Klepto POV

When I wake up, there's an obvious shift in the air that sizzles through my veins like an unstoppable wildfire.

Hmmm. How strange.

I spring up into a sitting position, only to bang my head straight on the freaking ceiling, to which I react by yelping. I rub at my forehead very gently as it continues to ache.

An eruption of laughter splits the room, and I wrench my throbbing head to the side to find my sister, Penelope, sitting cross legged on her bed. She's got a blonde lock wrapped tightly around a curling iron. I can smell her hair burning from here.

She's at the tender age of 16, and yet she follows in Tressa's footsteps of primping and polishing every single morning.

Not that that's an inherently bad thing, but sometimes it just gets a bit excessive. Okay, maybe a lot excessive.

But hey, if that's what they how they want to spend literal hours of their precious time on, then that's their prerogative.

"What? Have a nightmare?" She asks, and I spot Tressa snorting softly as she comes strutting perfectly pristine out of the closet. My older sister whirls a pink scarf in the air while she cascades around likes she's a fairy.

"Probably dreaming that we ran out of cake." She quips, looking over herself in the mirror with a glint in her eye. They both laugh, sharing a knowing look of humor that I don't understand. They're as cruel as can be this morning.

I quickly climb down to get dressed for the day even though I would much rather lay in bed all day. My stomach rumbles to remind me I haven't eaten since my lunch yesterday, both of my sisters stare at me for a second with smiles on their faces before giggling profusely.

Penelope turns to Tressa. "Even the word cake makes her excited." She says, and I peer down at the wood floors while I out my clothes on, not trusting myself to open my mouth quite yet. The comebacks I had held inside would make them cry, too bad I can't risk the punishment I could earn.

They're not worth it.

I pull on a pair of shorts a t-shirt. The shirt is dark green and plain and I feel confident in it, mostly because I've never really been a fashionista so I like to keep things simple, basic. One less thing for them to make fun of me for I suppose. Which of course I know isn't true because they always seem to have something to say.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was a cross dressing walrus." Penelope says while I strap on my trusty converse, which are the only pair of shoes that I have to my name.

I ignore their words and turn to the both of them, who are too caught up in their laughter to notice my stare.

"Hope you guys have a great day." I try, smiling brightly, slinging my bag onto my shoulder.

They stop and stare at me like I've grown a third arm. I bow my head and walk out the door and down the stairs, trying to calm my racing heart. That took a lot of guts. I would've much rather grabbed their curling wand and attack them with it, but I kind of want to live to see another day.

My body is flipping out. My arms tremble, legs hardly holding me up as they labor to carry me. This can't be because of my snarky siblings, oh no, I'm too accustomed to them and their hatred. This is something new entirely.

I just can't shake the electricity that has taken home in my soul. It's as if someone's hooked me up to a live wire.

What the heck is going on?

After snatching a bran muffin from the pantry, I slip out the back door silently like some kind of spy on the move. I slept past the breakfast rush, thank the Goddess above. Feeling glad for it, I have a slight skip in my step despite the surge of adrenaline stinging my insides.

The little ones are gone to school, my older siblings off to their important jobs around the pack, and I had a counselling session in a few hours. Yay me.

My stomach rejoices excitedly as I start devouring my muffin, the absence of food has made me into a ravenous beast. I devour the sweet morsel while I walk, the damp grass tickling my exposed ankles.

I enjoy the sight of the large oak trees towering over me as I stride along, their orange leaf covered limbs drip with the rain water from last night's storm. The sun is out, but it's still a bit chilly. I'm starting to regret wearing a pair of shorts.

The long days of October hold a bit of cold in the morning, but weren't too bad. Maybe by afternoon it will be a comfortable 65. I can only hope.

My path takes me to the pack library. Being quaint, book filled building that's guaranteed to be empty, it's one of my favorite places to be. Unfortunately it's also right next to the pack house.

Good thing it's nestled among a thick group of enormous trees. My hideout is the perfect place to escape it all.

I swing the door open, breathing in the beautiful aroma of books and resisting the urge to do a twirl and sing at the top of my lungs.

Lucky me, I have a few hours before therapy so why not fill the void?

Making my way through the rows and rows and rows of the novels, I hold out my fingertips subconsciously to brush the spines of them. The connection soothes my soul. The dust swirls in the air as I go along through the aisles, reading the labels.

When a book finally peaks my stubborn interest, I pull it from the shelf and scour the first few pages. Intrigued, I continue reading as my legs wander through the library with a mind of their own. The words of the book tug at me with their eloquence, and I know I need it in my life.

I eventually see the check out desk. Ms. Philip, the librarian, sits tiredly behind the desk. She looks bored and distracted. Next to the desk is the door. When my heart beat starts to pick up, I know what dilemma is about to go down and I cringe deep inside.

Take it. Just take it.

My limbs shake as I stare down at the swirling cover of the book. I can just sneak away without checking the book out, they won't miss it. No one here really reads, so who cares about the stupid library stock anyway? I wouldn't have to bring it back. It can be mine. Mine.

Leave. Shove the thing in your bag and make a run for it. No one will be the wiser.

I am better than this. I have to be. Mind over matter.

Now! Just don't look back.

"Klepto, would you like to check something out?" It's Ms.Philip. She peers at me over her little reading glasses with a quizzical expression.

I sigh in relief, now that she's seen me with the book in hand the need to steal beccomes less and less pressing. More bearable. It withers away in my mind until it's gone, not a trace of it left behind.

Nodding my head, I make my way to the desk.

She gives me a confused glance before scanning the inside of the book, then my pack ID card. The librarian hands me the almost stolen item, and looks me over carefully. I smile before scurrying off.

Man, that was a close one.

When I'm outside, I lean against the front of the building.I could've gotten in so much trouble if I had been caught. Alpha Greens ugly face pops into my head and I bite the inside of my cheek.

To quote Troy Bolton, I have to get my head in the game.

After catching my breath, I push myself off the wall. My head turns downward, I walk aimlessly through the trees. I need to cool down, and some time to think. I deserve that much after conquering my nearly psychotic nature.

I truly am a freak. After all, I have to fight back the urge to literally steal things. Who does that? Not normal people.

It's about time for my daily jaunt through the woods. What a great idea! I'll do that.

A cool autumn scented breeze ruffles my hair, and with it an overwhelming spicy smell. I stop in my tracks among the orange foliage, my brows furrowing as I inhale deeply. I let the fragrance smooth on my tongue as if that will help me to identify what it is.

What on earth can that smell be? My instincts are flipping out as if a predator is nearby, my fight or flight kicking in as my heart starts to race. The organ thunders in my chest, echoing in my ribcage like a galloping horse.

I look left and then right, scouring the grounds for the thing that has my inner animal screaming when I finally see them exiting the pack house.

Hulking figures with distinctive danger leaking from them. They can only be one thing. There is a simple explanation for this.

Lycans.

There are three of them. All muscles and ridiculous power, and, might I add, stunning good looks. It's as if I'm terrified to be near them but also drawn to them by their scent and appearance. The contradiction is maddening.

They look inquisitive as they stand a few short yards away on the porch of the pack house.

The tallest is a black man with lengthy, beautiful dreadlocks that flow down his back. Despite his obvious handsomeness, he seems so stern and powerful. My knees wobble against each other.

I want to know more about them. Everything about them.

Wow, I sound like a freaking creep.

The other two are similar looking. The first is stalky, shorter and more serious. The second of the two blondes seems the opposite, his frame taller and thicker. His wavy hair is the same shade of sunshine, and covers his forehead. He appears to be lit from within, brimming with amusement.

How strange.

The door to the pack house swings open, revealing my gorgeous sister. Tressa is in full blown flirt mode, and I can tell even from here. Her hair is down, her eyes bright and seductive, thin lips pouted out dramatically. I roll my eyes.

That's when my attention lands on him.

He strode powerfully on his long legs, his greek god like face set in a thoughtful expression as he observes my sister. His hair is bronzy brown, with hints of red, casually styled on his head. Then there's his jaw, oh his magnificent jaw.

I focus on his arms next, the bulging muscles under his tan skin flexed with even the slightest of movements.

Suddenly, his head snaps up, yellow eyes ablaze like fire. They search through the trees until they land on me, and they widen in wonder. My eyes get bigger too as o stare back at him. My body begins to tremble.

The ground under my feet feels like it shifts as all I could focus on is him. My heart rate slows down significantly, my chest burns with a powerful heat, and the hairs on my arms and neck stand at attention.

It's like every atom in my body is yelling at me, demanding that he's important. This lycan is the most important person in my life. That can only mean one thing. I stand there completely shocked to the core.

It's him.

My mate.

My mate is a lycan.

He's just as shaken as I am, his nostrils flaring and his fists clenching. Eventually his gaze travels over my body, up and down, then back to my face again. My mate's expression gives nothing away.

I find myself wanting to adjust my shirt, fix my hair. What does he think of me? Does he think I'm beautiful?

I think he's beautiful, that's for sure.

Shaking off my shallow thoughts, I remind myself that looks aren't everything, my sisters and mother prove that every single day they spend on this earth. I'm sure my mate's personality is just as great as his appearance.

My legs suddenly drag me across the short distance to him. It feels like miles, like I'm walking through water.

I have to know his name. I need to be close to him. Hear his voice. Touch his skin. Kiss him.

When I finally reach the porch, I stop and stare, unaware of anything and everything around me except him. He's all that matters. Until, that is, a voice snaps me out of my dreamy like daze.

"Klepto, head inside and clean the kitchen. George made quite the mess with breakfast."

Alpha Green stands next to my mate. In spotting my future companion, I've completely overlooked my Alpha. I use to think our leader was tall and stoic, and yet compared to my mate he resembles a scrawny pup. I want to laugh, but I'm too awestruck.

While I contemplate this, I forget to answer his demand. This make Alpha Green turn very angry very fast. He's practically red.

"Do you remember when we spoke about disrespect?" He snaps, crossing his arms, though the act comes off as anything but intimidating when he's surrounded by a band of muscled lycans.

I look to my mate, his jaw is clenched as he stares down at me. He looks mad too. Why isn't he acknowledging that I'm his mate? Shouldn't he, I don't know, be hugging me or something? Kissing me? Maybe even smiling at me? My stomach drops to my toes.

He will accept me.... right?

"But... Alpha I.." I start, but I'm quickly interrupted. Alpha Green shouts me down right then and there.

"Enough! Get in there now." He growls. I continue to glance at my mate, praying he'll pull me to him in an embrace. Carry me away. Punch Alpha Green in his fat mouth.

After realizing he isn't going to do anything, I nod my head mutely, before hanging it in defeat. What more could I expect? Of course my mate won't want me.

I walk up the steps and into the pack house, not wanting to look up at him through the tears that now fill my eyes at his lack of interest. He didn't even talk to me. He looked... disappointed.

Don't show weakness, don't let them see what they do to you. It will get better.

I just wish I believe my own words.

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If you're reading this, I love you:)