52. Only For You

*It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do*
*I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you*
*And I never dreamed that I’d lose somebody like you*
*No, I don’t wanna fall in love*
*What a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way*
*What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you*
*What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way*
*What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you*

- *Wicked Game*, Chris Isaak

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Selene was twenty-five when she came across a small werewolf town that was the seedlings of the Magnolia pack. It wasn’t a cleanly or distinguished area. There were more bars and fighting rings than anything else.
Selene didn’t need distinguished when there was drinking and brawling.
She drank in the stares she received from onlookers. The locals weren’t used to near-sheer slips, she assumed. It brought a savage smile to her face as she basked in attention good and bad. She liked being beautiful. Beauty was terror. She liked being a terror.
She drank until her only urge was to fight. Then she fought until her naked body was smeared with the blood of her opponents. She drank until it was hard to taste the difference between blood and alcohol. 
Until she splattered both on the bouquets of a flower stall.
“Hey!” a female voice barked at her.
Selene’s wolf form clamped her jaws over the leg of an Alpha male who fondled her ass and then spilled mead over her lap. She’d sent him flying through the bar’s front window and they’d taken up the entire street to tumble and bite and bleed. 
He rolled onto his back, belly up, whimpering as Selene reared above him, ready to rake her paw across his face. “Apologize,” she snarled. But she didn’t feel like waiting. 
She swung her paw.
The only thing she hit was the tuft of fur at the end of a tail.
Selene jerked her head up with a snarl, spit and blood flying, but came face-to-face with a female werewolf. Her fur was startlingly white and her eyes, mere inches from Selene’s, were as green as a field in spring. They were unafraid and unyielding as well as an odd mix of ferocity and kindness. Her features were smooth—no wrinkled chops, not bared teeth, her ears perked instead of flat against her head. Her scent gave her away as a young Omega; she was almost half the size of Selene. 
She was the opposite of everything Selene was.
“Leave him alone,” she commanded.
Selene’s anger fizzled but she barked a laugh. “He owes me an apology, little wolf. Don’t interfere—your coat should stay as white as those moonflowers.”
She turned, but the female blocked her view again. Selene reared her head back, a growl in her throat. “My coat will stay white if you just leave him alone. You aren’t from the Magnolia. If you’re just going to be a terror, go somewhere else.”
Selene flicked her tongue over her nose. “Being a terror is fun and I like it here. Care to join me?”
“No. I don’t like violence.”
“Shame.” It doesn’t seem worth the fight now anyway, Selene mumbled to herself as she shoved past the Omega. “If you need a little break from tending cut flowers, it will be easy to find me—”
Their shoulders bumped together. A shock went through Selene’s battered body and mind, clarifying her senses into sobriety with a jolt. The Omega made a surprised whimper. 
Fearful that she’d hurt her, Selene spun. “Are you—”
She had already Shifted into her human form and covering her sensitive areas, crouching down to hide herself. She looked as terrified as Selene felt. “What was—Who are you?” she gasped.
Selene Shifted on impulse, exposing her glorious body. She didn’t miss the Omega’s quick scan—and blush. For once that was at the back of her mind. She knelt. “Did I hurt you? My name is Selene.”
Those spring-green eyes widened and she swallowed hard. “Selene Hilal?” 
If in any other situation, Selene would have given her most hellish grin, but the worry filling her veins was stronger. “I won’t hurt you.”
Someone dropped a pink silk drape for the Omega to hastily take and wrap around herself. Another was thrown at Selene, but she ignored it. “Calla, cover yourself in front of this stranger!” a male snapped.
“*Calla*,” Selene breathed as if it were her first intake of air. They stood in tandem without breaking eye contact. 
Wary, she nodded. “Calla Amaranth,” she said. 
The world seemed to narrow down to only them. Selene could only hear the thrum of their hearts, the inhale-exhale of their lungs, the blood flowing through their veins. An exquisitely alive body made for listening to. 
Calla shook her head, blinking out of a daze. “I’m—I know you won’t,” she whispered.
Selene breathed in sharply, but a different body shoved her aside to curve protectively around Calla’s. Her heart jumped—*I can’t see her, where is sh*e?!
“I’m okay,” came her voice. Selene was tall, but the crowd was thick, and they seemed united in sheltering Calla from view. “The river! By the moon!”
*River by the moon*. A midnight meeting, then.

Every shop refused to offer her goods—no clothes, no room, no food or bath. So she took the silk scrape and bathed in the freezing water of the river she didn’t know the name of. Her body peaked and all she could do was count how many seconds passed.
The moon for which she was named was full and surrounded by a sea of stars. Together they watched the hill where the other white body would crest over. It was hours before she did. And when she did, she was a dark silhouette lit by the halo of moonlight.
When Calla—*Calla Amaranth*—saw her, she broke into a run. She was wearing a loose white dress and her white hair was unbound. Selene escaped the embrace of the water to meet Calla on the sandy shore. She envisioned sweeping the female off her feet to spin her around, but that was reserved for lovers. Lovers were not lovers after knowing each other for mere minutes.
Instead Calla laughed—what a beautiful sound—and covered her eyes. “Selene Hilal, how indecent.”
She retrieved her cover and tied it around herself. “A werewolf, indecent?” she questioned, fighting a smile. “We are creatures of nature, and nature is bare. What is indecent about our life-given bodies?”
“*Life-given bodies*?” repeated Calla in amusement. 
Selene nodded. “Outdated language, yes, but our mothers sacrificed theirs to bare us, whether created by love or not.”
Calla’s smile faded and they simply searched each other’s gazes, taking in the slopes of the other’s nose, the shape of their mouths—exposed collarbones and curiosity of what waited underneath the cloth. Calla’s brows knit and her liveliness became subdued. “What is this?” she whispered. “These…feelings. Why do I feel so connected to you?”
It was an easy answer. Selene knew. But she knew the rest of the world, and Calla’s was only the boundaries of this town, so how could she know? “Guess,” she told her.
She bit her lower lip. Gods, Selene wanted to kiss them. She wanted to kiss a lot of places on Calla’s slender body. “Can we get to know each other before I say it out loud?”
Selene held out her hands palm-up. Calla did not hesitate to take them, letting her be drawn in closer. This was a moment that would nestle into Selene’s heart and make its home and would never dream of leaving. 
“Travel with me. I can show you oceans and mountains. I can buy you clothes and jewelry and—”
Calla silenced her gently with a forefinger. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “Selene…I have family here. My life is *here*. I…I want to know you. But knowing takes time sometimes. So…” She cupped Selene’s cheek, and she leaned into it, torn between closing her eyes and never wanting them to leave Calla’s. “Stay with me. I’ll buy *you* clothes and you can *tell* me about these oceans and mountains.”
“Yes,” Selene agreed, brushing her lips to the heel of Calla’s palm. The Omega blushed and Selene held fast when she tried to retreat. “I’ll follow or stay or leave…just for you. Only for you.”