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Section 1
### Chapter 1: Mate of the Werewolf
Warnings: Yaoi, Boyslove, Parody of many other Werewolf stories out there. And a few swear words used every now and again. Claimer: All characters and events belong solely to me, and are not to be used without permission. Notes: This was my first attempt at writing an Original Fiction. At the beginning, I started to write this fic as a bit of a lark on Quizilla. Ya know, doing a parody of most Werewolf fics where the female werewolf is being chased by dozens of guys because she is so beautiful and/or powerful? Yeah, well, I kinda grew fond of this story and the characters I created so I decided to place this story on this site as well. In any case, if you read this, do let me know what you think of it so far. I have written fanfiction in the past, but this is my first original fiction so this is kinda like my baby. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 1: There was a slight irritant in the air, an unwelcomed presence drifting upon the wind like a heavy shadow; she could feel it. Though, it caused her no alarm. Camellia, or Cammie as she was known to a small and selective group of friends, felt a sense of pride wash over her as she prowled with a great sense of boredom through her territory. Although it had been relatively dull growing up in a small country town like Blue Bells, but this was her land nonetheless. Still, it was as dull as heck. With her long red hair, like the colour of a fiery setting sun and eyes as sharp as the coolest of ice, her skin a succulent brown, natural of course, she was the most beautiful and sought after woman in the entire town. Her figure was that of a busty super model and she didn’t have to do a thing to keep herself looking this gorgeous. It was natural, all the way. Men of all ages, young, old, married, divorced or single worshipped the ground she walked on. She had them all wrapped around her little finger and she could do whatever she wanted and could do whatever she wanted. She was feisty, flirty and naughty; absolutely ruthless when she wanted something. And she would always get what she wanted. The women of this town, however, hated her with a most ironic passion. They detested her, loathed her, and yet could not deny how utterly mesmerising and alluring she was in all aspects of her personality, image and life. She was the pinnacle of perfection. And the fact that she was a werewolf only added to her Goddess like supreme beauty. She could turn into a blood red wolf whenever she wanted. Of course, the only drawback was when she changed back into her human form, she was completely naked, her clothes literally ripped off of her slender and supple body whenever she transformed. It was only a minor hindrance, though. With her legs that went on for miles, her perfect skin, her flawless figure, her large and perky bust, she had nothing to be ashamed off. Because of her luscious red hair, hair that no one had ever seen before, she had been given the name the Crimson Wolf by the locals. She and her twin brother were the only werewolves in this town, she being the oldest twin and the strongest; she was the true owner of this land. Her brother, Ethan, was truly pathetic. It was completely and utterly embarrassing to even admit that they were even related. She did everything she could to avoid him, but as he was the weakest, she just had to protect him. She didn’t have to like it though. For as long as she could remember, she and her brother had always been at odds. He simply could not get over the fact that she was the strongest of the family and didn’t like to come second to a girl. While Camellia’s wolf form was a true essence of beauty, Ethan’s was something she considered to be incredibly dull. Honestly, his fur was as white as snow and his eyes a gentle chocolate brown. He wasn’t threatening at all. And to make him even less worthy of being called a werewolf and her brother, he preferred not to engage in battles, instead he decided to become a gentle and caring vet, off all things. If he could, Ethan would prefer to have their territory open to any wandering wolf, allowing them refuge. He was such a dreamer. Honestly, did he really think a werewolf worth his weight would even consider coming to him for help in healing their wounds? No wolf would get pass her, not with her keen senses that was matched by none. Which was why she was stalking her town darkened streets; there was a new wolf in town and he was following her. Camellia had been stalking her town darkened streets, the full moon above casting a subtle glow upon her territory, allowing her with a more than enough light to see. All day she had sensed the unwanted presence of another wolf, a male one and he seemed quite arrogant. She could tell by his scent alone. He obviously thought he could catch her unaware. Typical male. They think just because she was female in gender, they could get one over on her. “I know you’re following me, bastard,” Camellia growled out in a domineering manner, her posture tall and as strong as always. “Stop being such a coward and show yourself. Unless, of course, you’re frightened of me?” The sound of paws scrapping across the concrete soon alerted her senses to the shadows behind her. Then, from that shadowy place of darkness, a large wolf appeared, larger than any she had encountered to date, yet did little to intimidate her. His fur was a black as the night sky, shiny and thick, while his eyes were as blue as the sky on a bright, cloudless summer’s day. Camellia tisked in annoyance. She was hardly impressed. “You are the resident werewolf, correct?” the mysterious wolf before her asked, his voice low and deep, husky and purposely seductive. Camellia flicked a strand of her mesmerising red hair over her shoulder with a sassy flick of her wrist. “You’re looking at the Alpha wolf here, dumbass. Now I suggest you give me a good reason for being here and I might let you leave unharmed.” The wolf said nothing in regard to her threat, causing Camellia’s annoyance to grow as he was obviously one of those arrogant, mule-head Alpha males who think they can do whatever they want, especially in regards to the females of their species. Well, he was going to be in for a shock, wasn’t he? “I am in search for my mate,” he finally admitted. That, however, only earned Camellia’s ire. Yet another male who had heard of her striking beauty and power and wanted to calm her, her sexy body and wild lands as their own. He wasn’t the first and he most certainly wasn’t going to be the last. It was so tiresome being this beautiful and powerful. “Well, blue-eyes, that’s rather unfortunate for you, isn’t it?” Camellia said as she studied her nails in a dramatic display of boredom and disinterest. “If you came all this way to woo me, you’re wasting your time. I’m Queen here and I submit to no one. If you want to be my mate, you will submit to me, you understand? Of course, you can try to take me, but it will be your grave.” Astonishingly, the wolf before her simply quirked his head to the side, seemingly unfazed by her warning and threat. He almost looked haughtily amused as he daringly paddled closer, moving purposely and mockingly slowly. He was simply trying to get under her skin. Suddenly, he moved with a speed she had never seen and appeared threateningly in front of her. So sudden was his appearance that Camellia unwillingly, and surprisingly foolishly, took a step back. Still, he stood hunched before, looking ready to pounce. He, unexpectedly, sniffed her for her scent with a twitch of his nose but then, much to Camellia’s surprise, he snorted in what could only be described as mocking amusement. He then gave this half-chuckle noise, his canine features almost shifting into a smirk as he pulled away from her, slinking around her almost as a vulture would. He seemed conceited and smug about something. Camellia growled threateningly in her throat. It was obviously that he just sensed her great strength and was probably in the process of thinking up a seductive plan to win her over. He was certain to use that rugged, mysterious manly charm he thought he possessed to make her swoon at his words. What a fool. She was the great Crimson Wolf. She would submit to no one. The mysterious werewolf snorted with a sense of mirth at her as he slowly began to slink back into the shadows, his blue eyes watching her carefully. “Just as I had anticipated,” he murmured with a growl, one that would have sent shivers down the spines of those other weak women in this town and flush foolishly. “Hardly a threat.” “I’ll show you a threat,” Camellia snarled viciously, dangerously, her ice coloured eyes narrowing in a frightening manner. “Do not underestimate me for my gender, fool.” Another chuckled rung out like an owl’s call in the night before he disappeared into the shadows, his heady, manly scent floating away on the wind like an earthy aftershave. And he left Camellia feeling absolutely pissed off!
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### Chapter 2: Mate of the Werewolf: Into the Wolf's Den
Chapter 2: Camellia was more than pissed off when she trailed her way back home, a grand house on the outskirts of town. This mansion once belonged to her parents, both of which are dead. Her mother killed her father in a jealous rage when she found out he was cheating on her with a pathetic little half-vampire, half-werecat. She then killed herself afterwards, in front of Camellia and her brother. Not that it phased Camellia very much. Oh, how she loathed her parents; she was glad when they were gone and left the mansion to her. Her brother also owns it, much to her annoyance, but he wouldn’t know what to do without her. “Oh, you’re back,” came the voice of her brother, Ethan. He was a lanky male, scrawny and weak; his dull blond hair from her mother’s side of the family was messy and lingering around his face, his brown eyes looking at her cautiously. He wasn’t at all that muscular and his skin was sorta pale, nothing like her beautiful bronze skin. Camellia snarled and lashed out at him, striking him across the face with the back of her hand. She was in no mood to deal with her weak and pathetic little brother. Although, she did feel a sense of domineering pride when Ethan hit the floor with a painful crash, knocking over a kitchen chair as he did so. He then unleashed a howl of pain when Camellia decided to kick him in the ribs as he lay on the floor, relinquishing some of her frustrations of the pervious encounter. Not that she would ever, ever admit that that mangy wolf got under her skin. “Don’t talk to me, fool,” she literally spat at him. “Don’t pretend that you worry about me. I know you’re hoping this new Werewolf would control me, don’t you?” “New werewolf?” he wheezed from the floor as he clutched his cheek. “Yeah,” Camellia said airily as she threw herself down onto a kitchen chair, lifting her long legs up to rest on the kitchen table, uncaring if dirt and grot from the bottom of her biker boots littered the table. “He’s looking for his mate. Which happens to be me, apparently.” “Are you sure?” Ethan whimpered at her. Camellia slowly turned to face him, her brow furrowed in an exasperated look. Had he really just asked her that question? “Well, who else could he be after?” she asked her brother with a swift flick of her tongue. “You?” She then laughed hysterically at the thought. Pathetic little Ethan, a mate to a werewolf? Not a chance in the lowest pits in hell! It was just too utterly ridiculous to even consider. “Now that’s fucking hilarious!” “I didn’t mean it that way,” Ethan tried to back pedal. “I mean, what if he has been going from town to town looking for his mate?” Camellia stopped laughing and rolled her eyes at her sibling’s stupidity. “I’m known as the Crimson Wolf, jackass. It’s obvious that he’s heard of me and has come to make me his mate. Now stop being a dickwad and get me my dinner! Sheesh, what else are you good for?” Ethan simply nodded his head as he set about picking up the kitchen chair he knocked over, wincing as he placed his hand on his ribs. He then moved further into the kitchen to get Camellia her dinner like she had ordered. “You’re not as legendary as you like to think,” Ethan muttered, but fortunately for him, Camellia didn’t seem to hear him. Her attention was adverted to the window overlooking the grand valleys that were glistering under the light of the full moon. Then, a howl broke through the still of the night. That stupid shadowy colour wolf was back and he had actually had the gall to encroach on her homely domain! How arrogant and conceited could he possibly be? Camellia snarled, her hackles rising up as she dashed outside into the night, ready to show the newcomer in town how much of a threat she was. ... ... ... ... ... ... Ethan watched as his sister ran out into the darkness, forsaking the open front door, instead using the thankfully open window as her leverage to leap off in an overly dramatic way. Her eyes set into a fearsome glare of hatred, her lips pulled back into a snarl. She truly loved to make things overly theatrical. He sighed as he set about cleaning up the mess she made by storming into their house, sweeping off the dirt on the table and placing it in the bin. He then winced when he leaned a little too far to the side, his ribs aching in protest and he drew in a sharp breath to help ease the pain away. His sister had changed so much over the years. She was never this cruel or ruthless in their younger years, nor was she ever this violent toward him. Sure, she had been a bit of a brat growing up, always demanding things and throwing tantrums when she didn’t get them, but she was never this conceited and...bitchy. Ethan really couldn’t point out the moment in time where she changed, but if he hazard a guess, it was a few weeks after their parents died. Their parents were both respected people in the community; father was a bank manager while their mother was a teacher at the local primary school. They had both died when he and Camellia were about to turn 15 years old, a whole three years ago now. After that, Camellia turned rebel and did everything she could to get into trouble and cause trouble for those in the community. Some thought it to be nothing more than a cry for help, but she only grew more reckless. Especially after realizing their Werewolf gifts that their father had placed upon them. She thought of herself as really unstoppable then. But she was going to get herself killed one of these days, she wasn’t as highly sought after or as powerful as she liked to think of herself to be. And she most certainly wasn’t gaining the respect of anyone in their home town or of any wandering wolf in these parts. She was rude, brash and really quite irresponsible. She held no fear. Why Ethan continued to stay here, endearing her abuse, he did not know. Maybe he felt it was his duty to try to keep her out of trouble. But that wasn’t possible; her self-centredness and rage fuelled her werewolf tendencies and she could be quite powerful in her abuse toward him. He was a werewolf too, but he would never, ever strike out at her. Bitch or not, she was still his sister. While Camellia tried to dominate and make enemies of the wandering wolves who happen across their town in secret, Ethan much preferred offering them a sense of sanctuary. Certainly, most of these wandering wolves were dangerous and could potentially be a threat to him, but he wanted to prove to them, to show them that violence wasn’t always the answer. And most of the time, the rogue wolves he had encountered had never experience kindness before, so simply followed, idly wondering why he was doing this and what he wanted in return. He wanted nothing in return from them; the satisfaction of being of some use to someone was more than enough, really. Wolves, after all, were also renowned for their intelligence, companionship and loyalty. They weren’t vicious, brainless beasts. A chill suddenly raced up Ethan’s spine and a new scent touched his overly-sensitive nose. A scent he had never smelt before overwhelmed him, actually, and quite surprisingly, made him feel dizzy with a sense of something he had never felt before. Whipping around, he found his gaze colliding with that of an unknown wolf’s as he stood, unmarred and alone, in his house.
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