Chapter 9

He’s different from what I pictured.

But in a better way.

In a way to where- you let your mind think of something good. As good as it gets, I think is the saying.

Only for the thing before you to be better.

Black hair and dark blue eyes. Why did I not think of that combination beforehand?
It seemed to fit so much better than black hair and green eyes.

“What are you doing Francis?”

Francis.

A strange name.

A beautiful name.

His name.

He stares down at me. He’s tall. Very tall. And powerful. I can feel the power surging off of him. As if he has too much. It’s different from my Alpha’s power- or Hank’s. I’ve never felt power like this before.

This is a true Alpha.

A true leader.

Francis looks up at my brother and Larry, who are now flanking my side. His eyes search to my Luna. No doubt she has her canines extended, eyes glowing out with her wolf ready to defend a female of her pack.

“She’s mine. My mate.”

I feel a crushing sensation inside me.

That was what he was.

He had put a word to my feeling.

Mate. His.

I turn to Hank, eyes wide and unsure as he too looks at me, confusion and fear clear in his gaze.

“Excuse me,” the Luna pushes through, blocking me with her body and hiding me from view. I shiver from the growl that surfaces from Francis’s chest at the action.

“She is a member of my pack. We came here today on official pack business. You will either have to wait or come with us to have this sorted out.”

Francis looks past the Luna and at me.

He shrugs, “I don’t need to be here anyway.”

Larry steps up then, “Francis if you’re going into my pa-,”

“Not your pack,” Francis growls, “you haven’t earned that right yet.”

Larry’s eyes flash but he stands his ground against the dark figure, “If you are going into the Shaldon Pack, I need to have your word that you won’t bring any violence.”

Francis eyes him, before nodding slowly.

I become vaguely aware of the audience we have gathered around us.

But one glare from Francis have the males looking away.

This is my mate.

This dark stranger, who looks like he has the world upon his shoulders. Who looks like he is angry at everything that moves. Who is a mess of beauty and chaos.

My hands twitch.

I want to paint him.

I want to paint the correct version of him.

To erase the paintings that hold all the false green eyes and other features, and instead, create the new, glorious canvas of this living, real creature.

Francis sees me staring at him.

“Let me look at her.” The Luna doesn’t move.

Francis growls, baring his teeth.

I see the Luna shake.

Visibly shake.

“She is my mate, let me see her.”

“It’s okay.”

It’s the first time I speak.

I see Francis’s eyes widen from the sound. See him take a breath of air before composing himself.

“I want to see him too.”

The Luna hesitantly steps away.

I want to see him. To see the details of him. So I know what to paint, later on.

We stand before each other.

Dark hair. Black.

With dark blue eyes.

Tall. Black shirt that fits. He has a small scar on his face- above his right eyebrow.

He has beautiful hands. Long fingers. Fingers that, if he tried, could become artist hands. Hands that could create beauty instead of violence.

Thin lips.

High cheekbones.

He takes me in also.

No doubt noting my childish appearance.

His eyes pause on my hands also.

The paint that is permanently on them.

“What is your name?”

I feel Hank stiffen beside me. On edge.

“Layla.”

Francis thinks over the word before nodding.

“Layla, I’m Francis. Alpha of the Alba Rosa pack. Your mate.”

I love the way he rolls the ‘x’ sound in his mouth. The way it comes out softer than the rest of my name.

I don’t know what to say to him.

I’m just Layla. That’s it. No title. Nothing special. Just Layla.

“Why did you come here today?”

I look up into his dark blue eyes.

I would try to mix a light blue with black to create the color. Maybe some red to make purple- I could see a hint of purple within it. A light hue.

“My father is sick. I came to get my brother… Hank.”

I motion towards Hank who stands beside me.

“She’s your sister…”

Francis and Hank stare at each other a few seconds more before Francis averts his eyes back down to me.

“We need to leave Lay. Dad is getting worse by the minute.” Hank whispers his words in my ear, but I know Francis can still hear them.

I glance up at him- unsure- but Francis says nothing, confusion, and frustration written across his face.

“Let’s go back.” It’s the Luna who speaks this time. She sounds tired. Weary. As if she already knows and is preparing herself, for a long hard day.He’s different from what I pictured.

But in a better way.

In a way to where- you let your mind think of something good. As good as it gets, I think is the saying.

Only for the thing before you to be better.

Black hair and dark blue eyes. Why did I not think of that combination beforehand?
It seemed to fit so much better than black hair and green eyes.

“What are you doing Francis?”

Francis.

A strange name.

A beautiful name.

His name.

He stares down at me. He’s tall. Very tall. And powerful. I can feel the power surging off of him. As if he has too much. It’s different from my Alpha’s power- or Hank’s. I’ve never felt power like this before.

This is a true Alpha.

A true leader.

Francis looks up at my brother and Larry, who are now flanking my side. His eyes search to my Luna. No doubt she has her canines extended, eyes glowing out with her wolf ready to defend a female of her pack.

“She’s mine. My mate.”

I feel a crushing sensation inside me.

That was what he was.

He had put a word to my feeling.

Mate. His.

I turn to Hank, eyes wide and unsure as he too looks at me, confusion and fear clear in his gaze.

“Excuse me,” the Luna pushes through, blocking me with her body and hiding me from view. I shiver from the growl that surfaces from Francis’s chest at the action.

“She is a member of my pack. We came here today on official pack business. You will either have to wait or come with us to have this sorted out.”

Francis looks past the Luna and at me.

He shrugs, “I don’t need to be here anyway.”

Larry steps up then, “Francis if you’re going into my pa-,”

“Not your pack,” Francis growls, “you haven’t earned that right yet.”

Larry’s eyes flash but he stands his ground against the dark figure, “If you are going into the Shaldon Pack, I need to have your word that you won’t bring any violence.”

Francis eyes him, before nodding slowly.

I become vaguely aware of the audience we have gathered around us.

But one glare from Francis have the males looking away.

This is my mate.

This dark stranger, who looks like he has the world upon his shoulders. Who looks like he is angry at everything that moves. Who is a mess of beauty and chaos.

My hands twitch.

I want to paint him.

I want to paint the correct version of him.

To erase the paintings that hold all the false green eyes and other features, and instead, create the new, glorious canvas of this living, real creature.

Francis sees me staring at him.

“Let me look at her.” The Luna doesn’t move.

Francis growls, baring his teeth.

I see the Luna shake.

Visibly shake.

“She is my mate, let me see her.”

“It’s okay.”

It’s the first time I speak.

I see Francis’s eyes widen from the sound. See him take a breath of air before composing himself.

“I want to see him too.”

The Luna hesitantly steps away.

I want to see him. To see the details of him. So I know what to paint, later on.

We stand before each other.

Dark hair. Black.

With dark blue eyes.

Tall. Black shirt that fits. He has a small scar on his face- above his right eyebrow.

He has beautiful hands. Long fingers. Fingers that, if he tried, could become artist hands. Hands that could create beauty instead of violence.

Thin lips.

High cheekbones.

He takes me in also.

No doubt noting my childish appearance.

His eyes pause on my hands also.

The paint that is permanently on them.

“What is your name?”

I feel Hank stiffen beside me. On edge.

“Layla.”

Francis thinks over the word before nodding.

“Layla, I’m Francis. Alpha of the Alba Rosa pack. Your mate.”

I love the way he rolls the ‘x’ sound in his mouth. The way it comes out softer than the rest of my name.

I don’t know what to say to him.

I’m just Layla. That’s it. No title. Nothing special. Just Layla.

“Why did you come here today?”

I look up into his dark blue eyes.

I would try to mix a light blue with black to create the color. Maybe some red to make purple- I could see a hint of purple within it. A light hue.

“My father is sick. I came to get my brother… Hank.”

I motion towards Hank who stands beside me.

“She’s your sister…”

Francis and Hank stare at each other a few seconds more before Francis averts his eyes back down to me.

“We need to leave Lay. Dad is getting worse by the minute.” Hank whispers his words in my ear, but I know Francis can still hear them.

I glance up at him- unsure- but Francis says nothing, confusion, and frustration written across his face.

“Let’s go back.” It’s the Luna who speaks this time. She sounds tired. Weary. As if she already knows and is preparing herself, for a long hard day.