A Werewolf Fantasy

The Full Moon Feast of werewolves was one of Erin's least favorite events to attend, but unfortunately for her, she has never had the best excuse to avoid going since she became eligible to participate seven years ago.

She could not for the life of her understand why the clan Chief and his ancestors made the event mandatory for all adult werewolves; why didn't they just restrict attendance to married werewolves only?

Or to werewolves who enjoyed boring speeches about who was doing great in their human lives and which werewolf had finally found a mate in the slim pickings available in the clan? Why did she have to be involved in all of that, especially the "networking" sessions?

"Erin! What are you doing up there? You're going to be late!" her mother called out to her from downstairs.

"Ugh!" Erin groaned and quickly applied a dash of pale pink lipstick to her luscious lips before dropping it into her heavy handbag that contained her laptop, notepads, half a dozen pencils, a pen, and her mini toiletries bag.

When she finally made it downstairs, her parents were already at the dining table, eating breakfast. One look at her and her mother let out an involuntary gasp, while her father shook his head slowly, although Erin could see a small smile tugging at the side of his lips.

"Why on earth are you dressed like someone going to a rock music concert on a Monday morning?" Bernice Brown asked her daughter. "It's your first day at work, so why not look professional instead?"

"Good morning to you too, Mom," said Erin dryly before lowering herself on a vacant chair at the dining table. "Hey, Daddy. Running late too?"

"Nope," replied her dad. "Jonathan should be at the trading post already. That's what I hired him for. Now I can enjoy a leisurely breakfast with you and your mother before I go there." "Splendid," Erin grinned.

"Don't change the subject, Erin," her mother snapped. "Your dressing..."

"Mom, please. It's an art gallery, not a law firm. I don't have to show up at work in a designer pantsuit."

"Still - "

"Darling, please. Leave the girl alone," Andrew Brown suggested to his wife with a pleading look in his warm eyes.

Bernice pursed her lips and said nothing further. Her attempts to make her daughter more ladylike have been met with stiff resistance since Erin was a teenager. What Bernice had assumed to be teenage rebellion had morphed into a way of life for her daughter, who still dressed like a crossbreed of a hippie and an emo artist.

It was no surprise that at twenty-five, none of the eligible werewolves in their clan had ever shown even a slight interest in her. How was she ever going to find a mate if she continued like this?

Aware that her mother was shooting daggers at her with flaming eyes from across the table, Erin chose to ignore her and instead buttered a piece of toast generously before taking a big bite. She heard her mother's low growl of disapproval and she stifled a giggle. For some reason, Erin enjoyed annoying her mother, who by now has almost given up all hopes of ever making her the ideal daughter who would someday attract a worthy mate in the clan. "Big day, huh?" her dad said, trying to make conversation. "I bet you're excited about this new job."

Erin shrugged. "It's just an internship, but if I'm lucky and if the labor market gods smile on me, I might get a full-time position at the gallery. Although, I don't know if they'll need an additional art curator by then." "Well, let's hope they do." Her father smiled at her. "I wish you would get back to painting again. You never told us why you stopped."

Erin made a show of drinking her coffee to avoid responding to her father's last statement. She had never said it out loud before, but she had taken an extended break from painting six months ago after her four year relationship ended. It wasn't because she was in love with her ex, but it was mainly because she'd gotten so used to having Mike in her life and she had created a routine around her life with him, that when things finally ended, she hadn't known what to do with herself or how to continue with her life.

She'd met Mike during her sophomore year at the University of Chicago where she was studying to get a degree in Art History, while he majored in Creative Writing. They'd hit it off right away from the moment they bumped into each other at a mutual friend's birthday party.

They had been inseparable since then and had even moved in together after graduation. When Mike nailed his dream job at the New York Times, he'd asked her to move to the Big Apple with him but Erin had declined. It just hadn't felt right to her to pack up her things and follow him on his journey to live his dream, when all she really wanted to do was to return to Fairbanks to live with her family.

It still didn't make sense to her that she wanted to return home when all she had done since she was sixteen was to find an opportunity to get away from her hometown.

It was why she had chosen to go to college in Chicago instead of going to any of the universities in Alaska. It was as if some unseen force had been pulling her to return home. “Ooh, look at the time! I better get going," she said and quickly got to her feet. "See you guys later."

She kissed her parents on the cheek and hurried out of the house before her mother could issue another word of protest against her manners. Erin dumped her heavy handbag in the back seat of her Honda before getting behind the wheels. The art gallery was only about a mile away, but she was already running late mostly because that blasted alarm clock of hers had failed to go off at the right time. Never mind that she'd forgotten to replace the worn-out batteries, but yeah, her alarm clock was to blame for her tardiness on her first day to work.

Twenty minutes later, Erin parked her car in the only vacant spot in front of the gallery. Despite being late already, she couldn't help but take a moment to pause and admire the exquisite building that housed the art gallery.

The structure was two floors high and it was a mix of brick, glass, and wood, with giant pots of ferns and Monstera flanking it on all sides. Erin still couldn't believe her luck at getting the opportunity to work in the newest and swankiest place in Fairbanks, thanks to her big brother, Eric, who had mentioned the opening to her after his friend, Farida Burns, had told him about it.

Inside the gallery was even more divine than the exterior. The walls were painted in white and different shades of azure, making the place look like an underwater haven. There were paintings of different sizes on the walls downstairs, while the top floor was for sculptures and a variety of metal works.

"Hi Jade, I'm here to see Farida," said Erin to the friendly receptionist.

"Hi, Erin," Jade replied with a big smile. "Farida has been expecting you. She's at the back of the gallery."

"Thanks," Erin said with a grateful smile and began her journey to the back of the gallery. The short walk gave her some time to admire the paintings hanging on the wall and the ones set on columns around the room. 'I should bring some of my watercolors here too,' she thought to herself wistfully.

She finally reached her destination but there was no Farida to be found. Instead, she is greeted by a variety of tastefully done oil paintings that were probably waiting to be displayed in the front hall.

Erin knew she should call out to Farida, but she was so captivated by the sheer talent displayed here, that all she could do was just stand there and get an eyeful. One huge painting propped on an easel caught her attention, and Erin walked toward it to get a closer look.

Standing in front of the easel, her breath left her. The painting showed two giant werewolves standing on a hill at sunset, their eyes trained on a glowing white stone that appeared to float above their heads. What stunned her the most was that one of the werewolves in the painting was her in wolf form.

"You're here."

Erin turned around at the sound of the male voice behind her and she found herself face-to-face with a man she had never seen before. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and although he wasn't the most handsome man Erin had ever laid eyes on there was something powerfully alluring about his aura that made her want to run into his arms for safety. Right now, he was looking at her as if he'd just seen a ghost.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snoop. I was looking for Farida," Erin explained.

"You are truly here," said the man softly, his eyes running over her as if trying to make sure that she was who he thought she was.

Erin couldn't hide her confusion. "Do I know you? I'm not sure we've met before."

"Not in this lifetime, but you are mine," he replied confidently.

"Excuse me?" Erin asked in utter confusion. Who is this guy and why the heck was he saying weird stuff to her? And where on earth is Farida?

"I know you don't know me yet," the man continued. "But you will, Edvana. You will know me because you are my mate."