Background
Celeste and Gregor realize they are Fated Mates, but just because a mate is chosen by the Fates, does not mean the road will be an easy one. This is Celeste's reality...
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My mind is still reeling and my body is still buzzing with desire as I enter the compound. As usual, most folks ignore me as they flit here and there, high and low, in their evening duties. Except for the looks of distaste presumably about my clothing – always about the clothing. Or my employment . My dance is another point of contention. Sigh. But that’s okay. I’ve gotten pretty good at ignoring them as well.
‘They’ are mostly the older ones – the ones who prefer not to interact with the human world. It is they who keep our ‘before times’ traditions alive… because they are the ones trying to maintain our separation from the world in which we now live.
Honestly, I love many of those traditions and do not want to lose them. But there is no going back – we all know that. And I, and many other young fairies like me, refuse to be caged. This is our reality now, and we are determined to live in it, not apart from it. We know dangers exists – obstinate Freiya has been gone for nearly a season now and a piece of each of us mourns him daily. But we also know the joys of freedom. Of discovery. Of finding work outside of herd expectations – outside of the compound – and being rewarded and even admired for its fruits.
Okay, so yeah, we do come home every evening. There is nothing to be done of the bone-deep and innate fear of being alone and without one’s kind after sunset. It is a terrifying thought, and it is part of who we are, part of being a member of the herd.
Gregor’s face flashes before my vision again, and I’m reminded of the peace his presence gave me. It was a feeling I’d never experienced outside of these walls, and I had enjoyed it! Mmmmmm, oh yes, I did enjoy it! I stifle a smile and bite my lip as a flash of heat between my legs reminds me just how much more of him I had wanted to enjoy.
I pause and close my eyes, trying to center myself. Of all creatures: Gregor Charbonneau!! But I feel my smile become incandescent at the simple thought of his over-powering presence. When was the last time I felt truly happy deep inside? I pause and look more closely at the busy-ness around me. I realize I can’t think of an answer to that question, at least none since this reality became ours…
The evening bonfire is well on its way to fruition as I near the compound’s center and Gregor’s words echo through my mind.
Tomorrow morning at sunrise, mon petit cadeau.
A chill runs through my body, as if it’s setting its own internal timer. I take a deep breath, realizing I could no more say ‘no’ to meeting Gregor than I could to attending the evening reverie. But somewhere deep inside comes a haunting question, one I will have to answer if and when two such activities conflict. What happens when I have to choose?
Stopping to calm my runaway thoughts, I watch the horizon eat the remaining sheen of the blessed sun. Even here and now, faced with an answer I do wish to reflect upon tonight, another smile engulfs my being with the thought of whose company I will be in when that same sun is once again expelled from below. When I can feel that inexplicable warmth he ignites in me…
I glance off to the side, to the large shadow the ancient oak provides opposite the firelight. Perhaps I can just hang there tonight. My presence at reverie would still be felt, but I wouldn’t have to …
“Hey Cee!”
“Welcome home, Ceebee, how’s life?!”
And there goes my whole ‘hiding in the shadows’ idea.
Chuckling, I shake my head as Joachim and Justine land on either side of me, immediately falling into step with me.
Looking at my lifelong friends, I realize just how accustomed to the outside world I’ve become. I’m still comfortably clothed in ‘outer-wear’ while the twins are in full-fairy garb: a few strategically placed leaves or flowers and mischievous smiles. When did that happen, that I don’t disrobe immediately upon entering the compound?
I know the answer. This ease with which I have adapted to clothing came shortly after I auditioned for my first ballet. And although I would lie if asked and say it was the dance, I know in my soul that it had nothing to do with dancing. No, it had everything to do with whom I first saw on my way home just days after I started in the ballet troupe.
My job at the library where I’d worked for nearly a decade did nothing to affect my need to conform when I passed back inside the compound for the evening. In fact, many had been the days that I looked forward to being free of the confining outer wear beginning as early as lunchtime in my little secluded corner of the archaic books section. I would sometimes count the minutes until I knew I could feel full communion with the river of air in which we live. But, after only my second dance practice, the clothing became simply a noise in the background of him.
At first, the dancer’s leotard, tights, and loose-fitting over-suit had felt more binding to my skin than my skirts and blouses at the library. But all thoughts of its uncomfortability had been forever lost when Gregor’s laugh had caught my attention that first time.
Joachim reaches over and grips my hood between his thumb and forefinger. With his usual dramatically-feigned revulsion – you know, as if the material might bite him – he pulls my hood down. I snort in amusement at his usual antics, which, by the way, he doesn’t see as antics at all.
“This… this thing,” Joachim begins, releasing my hood and rubbing his thumb and fingers together as if to remove some invisible dirt, “should probably be burned, Ceebee.”
“Ignore him, Cee,” Justine sneers in jest, “he’s feeling claustrophobic since he had stay in today and work.”
Joachim snarls in response as he brings his fingertips toward him, and blows a rough breath across them. I’m sure it’s to ‘blow away’ where he touched my hoodie because that’s just him. But before he drops his hand to his side, he pauses, bringing it back up to his nose and sniffing.
Warning bells go off inside of me as I track his actions out the corner of my eye.
“Not Joachim,” I blurt out in an effort to distract him, “surely you’re mistaken. The Joachim I know loves gardening.”
Justine’s aquamarine hair gleams with her amusement, the chartreuse and golden highlights rippling around her updo and through the errant strands hanging about her face and to her shoulders. She playfully shoves me so that I bump into Joaquim.
“My brother loves a lot of things,” she says mockingly, “but work is not one of them!”
I join her in laughter and turn to address Joaquim.
“I do believe tha–”
But Joaquim is no longer beside me.
My abrupt stop has Justine stopping almost simultaneously. We both turn to find him frozen some steps behind us. He’s in his favorite accusatory stance: one knee bent with foot turned out, one hand on hip, and a look that would surely kill you if the lasers in those ice-green eyes were active.
And though I feel those lasers cut right through me, I hold his stare. I’m not ready to give in to the drama I know is coming. You see, once Joaquim’s hair is affected by his emotions as it is right now – like it has a life of its own, moving without a breeze in the air – there is no telling what will roll off that sharp tongue of his.
Oblivious to our staring contest, Justine speaks first.
“Oh, don’t get all butt-hurt, Keem.” Justine smiles at her brother in challenge. “Just get ov– ”
But Joaquim begins stalking directly toward us – his gaze never leaving mine, an almost scary intensity in every step. Dramatic, as expected, but we both know there’s more to it this time.
“I, dear sister, am not the issue here.” His speech was abrupt, his shoulder bumping mine as he passed us. “To our spot. Now!”
“Really, Keem?” Justine was annoyed with what she considered his over-the-top antics. “Really?!!”
Joaquim froze in his tracks, standing for a few silent moments. Then, slowly, he turned only his head to angle his mouth back in our direction.
“Unless you’d like to talk right here” – theatrical pause, please, because he’s Joaquim – “Celeste.”
I sigh.
“Come on, Justine.” I grab her arm, trying to sound light-hearted. “You know how he gets.”
“Uuuuugh! Why must you indulge him?” she asks disgustedly as we reluctantly follow.
Because he smells a werewolf on me.
But I didn’t say that out loud. Not yet.
To be continued…
‘Obsessive Tendencies’ is an adult fantasy novel about a reality in which the fantasy realm has somehow been merged with our human one. Celeste is a woodland fairy and Gregor is a werewolf alpha-heir. This is the fourth chapter in their story.
CAST OF CHARACTERS:
Celeste (woodland fairy) – her herd lives in a magical encampment in Gregor’s were-clan domain. They are not associated with werewolves at all.
Joaquim (woodland fairy) – twin brother to Justine, lifelong friend of Celeste.
Justine (woodland fairy) – twin sister to Joaquim, lifelong friend of Celeste.
Gregor (werewolf) – Alpha-heir to the Charbonneau Werewolf Clan, the largest clan in the Southeast United States.
Andre (werewolf) – best friend and trusted lieutenant to Gregor.
Author Notes
mon petit cadeau --> (French) my small/tiny gift
Once again, folks, I'm determined to stay on a monthly schedule this year! ;-) After a delay through November/December, mid-term exams, and the holidays, Celeste and Gregor are back! With luck we shall make sure to keep you up to date on things...
Thank you, as always, for reading me! ;-)
Image of 'Fairy, wolf and moon' from Pinterest [www.pinterest.com]
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