The Change (Fated Series: book1)
Chapter 9 - Acceptance

Nessa

Writing always helped. It helped her think, analyze and plan. Her very own remedy worked just like it had in the early years after her rejection. Her fingers angrily tapped on the keyboard giving her the much needed distraction. There was a certain magic in seeing her emotions outlined on the white digital screen, justifying them and making them real.

Right about now, Nessa felt vindictive, allowing her murderous thoughts to take full control. The scenes she wrote were full of gore and revolved around plain old betrayal. Deception was everlasting and together with greed made the plot twist as realistic as life itself. As Nessa tried to work out the pent up anger at her own mistakes, her characters progressively diminished. Some lost their heads, hearts or other major organs. Others were decapitated in a much more literal way. Vampires were the ideal cunning enemy. They were Nessa’s secret weapon of mass destruction that tore through plots she spent months developing with one goal in mind. All had to end. As painful and treacherous as possible. Nessa unleashed her fury, frustration and pain to seep through her fingers into the words on the screen. It was only after all were dead Nessa finally decided to take a break.

She craved coffee. The sweet and bitter taste of the milky-brown liquid helped her stay alert. It prevented her from crawling in bed, and drowning her sorrow in his scent.

Nessa promised she would not cry. No matter what, she would not shed a tear. It hurt the most when you were angry at something you had done. Because if you couldn’t trust yourself then why bother staying alive?

Why did she have to replace an Alpha among all wolves? She could see herself falling in love with her Green eyed devil, and that was the problem. They would never be just them. There would always be the Alpha title and pack.

Choices and consequences. One reckless decision of ignoring what was left of her shifter senses, leading to the unfortunate misjudgment of cocky remarks as anything but what they really were – overinflated Alpha’s Ego.

Nessa wasn’t angry at the circumstances. No. Her pain was much deeper. She was disappointed in herself for not seeing things clearly. It was humiliating to think of the get-together at the clearing, where she had publicly questioned the Blackwood’s Alpha. She had teased him calling him Green Eyes, and could now understand the dead silence that had followed. It felt good to see Brandon’s agitation towards her at the sound of her nickname for Marcus. He was jealous, or so Nessa had naively assumed, blinded by the twisted pull she had with Brandon.

That pull had to end.

She cleared her throat only to then take a sip of her coffee. The most frustrating part was recognizing all the missed opportunities to inquire about Marcus’ status. Hell, she hadn’t even bothered asking his name until the supermarket. Nessa rubbed a hand over her face, as mortification was a hard pill to swallow. She had gone as far as to threaten Marcus with her bad-ass Alpha Ned. Nessa face palmed herself, wondering how he had kept a straight face.

She wanted to blame it on her rejection. She wanted to be able to accuse Brandon of destroying her happiness once again. But nothing he could do was meaningful anymore. Definitely not significant enough to call upon pain. She wanted to hate him, but she knew the mess was one of her own making.

One seemingly innocent decision to tone down her senses had unforeseen consequences. Nessa remembered the BBQ at Rover Grove. Marcus had the chance to set the record straight and to stop her from humiliating herself in front of both packs. Why would he allow her to speak like that? She thought back on all the times she had swatted, teased, patted, nudged the Blackwood Alpha. She had even went as far as pulling his ear. Yet, he had been nothing but sweet despite her rude way of kicking them out of her apartment. The answer was simple, she had overlooked it. He liked her, and now he had slept with her. She was out of his system for good. If only pack wolves’ gossip did not fly faster than the speed of light, then she would have a chance to wait for the fallout. Maybe she’d be able to go out of her apartment in a month or two. It wouldn’t be that bad staying in and writing.

A nagging voice kept on asking her if she really wanted to forget.

“Breathe,” she reminded herself, steadying her heart.

Marcus hadn’t dismissed her feelings, nor tried to point the insanity of her rage against him. He had accepted it all, still calling her Spitfire. He was a gem, and Nessa knew she had been a painful torn in his ass. He was right. Only two opinions mattered and what his pack thought of her was irrelevant. Marcus and Nessa would never happen again, so what good was crying over spilled milk.

Nessa sighed. A one night stand. That was what they were to each other. Another notch on their belts. If Cameron didn’t spill the beans, then their ‘what-ever’ would be kept from the pack’s ears. The less people knew the better. Nessa was scared of who else would put her lack of Alpha-recognition together with her withdrawn social life to reveal her mateless secret – Brandon.

Or was she his dirty little secret?

Nessa preferred not to think. So she decided to do what any person would do – procrastinate. Marcus was her source of distraction. Her mind obliged, replaying memories of her Green Eyed Alpha – under, over, beside, inside her…. It was scary to think how easily his scent had mingled and permeated her apartment, making it feel like a secure oasis in the midst of a sandstorm. He had interpolated his presence in her life and gotten under her skin. Why did he have to be so… him? Memories of the night before flooded her mind and she welcomed them. His touch, his kiss, all those sweet nothings he told her had made her feel wanted, appreciated and treasured.

Damn him and his gorgeous body! She could still not suppress the grin which automatically spread on her face as she recalled his chiseled chest, mouth watering abs and manly appendage. Marcus was her high, her drug of choice, her little obsession…. Cross that… There wasn’t anything little about him. She shook her head. She had to purge that image of Marcus. He was a part of her past now. She grinned at the thought and then quickly scolded herself about letting her thoughts linger in that direction.

Her fingertips tapped on the counter as she was waiting for the machine to brew her some coffee.

Why was she mad at him again?

He lied.

Well, technically, omitted the truth.

But hadn’t she done it as well?

She tried playing the Devil’s Advocate, and to see things from his side. She had also avoided telling him significant parts of her life story. But you just didn’t blab about everything even remotely connected to you when you meet someone new. Especially, if you wanted that someone-new to stick around. After all, she wanted him to not only stay but to flirt with her some more. She liked that a lot. Then you certainly didn’t whine about your past in the morning after an amazing one-night stand.

“Because that’s what I wanted from him. Right?” Nessa asked herself.

It was strange how she read him so well at times, but remained clueless when it really counted. It wasn’t up until the point he flatly asked her for a next time, that she even considered they could be more than a one-time thing. She was certainly not as naive as she was once to deduce sex equaled a relationship. In her experience hot guys were a one-time shot. They came and they went. Pun intended.

But one night with Marcus was all it took for Nessa to feel like an addict for his attention, laughter and touch. She had never felt so much hunger, attraction and passion for someone. Anyone! Even what she had with Brandon, as short lived and messed up as it was, did not compare. True, she was young and inexperienced, but they had the bond and their friendship. He was her Mate and her first. Yet, he had not been able to sate her. Even her second, third and forth flings were severely outperformed by that green eyed devil.

Despite his lie and her anger, given the chance, Nessa knew she was more than ready and eager to devour Marcus on sight. The raw energy and sexual gratification were addictive. If Cam had not showed up, she most probably would have ended up spanking Marcus’ toned behind after his shower, then taken him back to bed. Yes, sex was that good. Who was she to miss the chance at ‘angry sex’ with her Devil? As she thought about it, he wouldn’t have minded it either. His sexual appetite was… ravishing… And she was craving to be his seconds... thirds and fourths….

She grabbed the cup and took a sip. The hot coffee scorched her tongue. Good, the pain took her mind away from Marcus. She calmly walked towards the living room and picked up her laptop. She needed to write. A couple of hours would certainly cure her mood. The cursor line kept blinking on the new page. A new page – a new chapter. She left her fingers roam the keyboard on their own free will, while her eyes closed as she didn’t need to see what she typed. Her fingers knew where each key stood, following the description of the scene in her head. It appeared on the screen in its true vivid and lustful details.

Lustful? Wait a moment. She quickly opened her eyes and reached out for her coffee. As soon as she touched the cup, she discovered it was cold. How long has it been? The laptop screen was glowing against her eyes. She squinted, letting her sensitive eyes adjust to their surroundings. It was already dark and judging by her sleepiness – late night or early morning, depending on your prospective. 4.10am did not exclusively belong to either.

Nessa curiously scrolled up and started reading.

“His calloused palms felt rough against her skin. He gently traced a path from her finger tip, which he kept on sucking, past her wrist to her shoulder. His fingers finally arrived at her shoulder blade, pushing her bra string down her arm. He was giving her the opportunity to stop him, to push him away. As if she was in any condition to do that. She was captivated and eager to discover what made her body putty in his hands.

Jessica let go of her frustration and relaxed in his arms. His skillful fingers unclasped her bra and intertwined with the strings of her thong. Soon all of her clothing was piled up between their feet. His grey eyes sparkled with delight as he took her in. There was no need for her to attempt to shelter her naked body from him. It wasn’t necessary. The uninhibited appreciation and pure adoration was etched on his face.

He reached towards her full breasts and cupped them then seductively twisted her already hard and pointy nipples. He was more than well-aware of what his actions were doing to her insides. She bit her lip to suppress a moan. His grin widened and he quickly lifted her up in his arms. Her legs immediately intertwined around his torso in a desperate attempt to bring her core closer to his body. His hands found their way and gently supported her bottom. She did not have any time to register the new found position, before his lips found their way back to her breasts. As soon as the moan escaped her lips, his sole attention focused on her nipples. She couldn’t help it but reach out and bury her fingers in his luscious hair. As his tongue swept over her nipple, a wave of warmth started spread across her body. She pulled his hair in an attempt to bring him closer to her chest, to give him easier access for his play. If he kept at it any longer, she would not have any other choice but to surrender to her own desire.”

Yes, that was too lustful, even for Nessa. A small smile pulled at her lips. The sixty pages of violence, betrayal and passion might be her inspiration for the long waited new sequel. Of course, that would be a possibility only after proper editing. Nessa felt excited as at least one good thing came out of this miscommunication. She felt surprisingly calm and relaxed. What an eventful day!

Nessa took a deep breath, and immediately wrinkled her nose. The smell coming from her was definitely not pleasant. She went back to the kitchen, dropping the mug in the sink and headed to the shower. As soon as the cold water stream hit her shoulder blades, she breathed in the refreshing cool air. It suddenly dawned on her this whole situation was not as Earth-shattering and as embarrassing as she initially thought. Nobody got hurt. Oh, well, despite some of her favorite characters but she could easily revive them with a hit of a button.

Marcus was not entirely at fault either. She sighed, silently admitting to herself she was just as much responsible for the confusion about his title as he was. Nessa never tried mind-linking him or asked around about him. Not that she could ask anyone about him. She wasn’t the social type. Maybe she could have grilled Cameron about the Alpha and attended more of Blackwood’s events.

She could not even complain he took advantage of her. She was equally eager to remove any and all articles of clothing from his tall, lean frame. Exploring his body was something she would never regret. All the witty remarks, goofy conversations and the pleasure they shared together made everything worth it. What more could she have hoped from a one-night stand? It was fun. Time well spent.

She convinced herself there was no harm, no foul. That way she cool look at the situation from a different angle - he was the Alpha and she had managed to make him squirm in her hands. She giggled. So much for not being worth someone’s time. Brandon’s words still rang in her ears even after so many years. Whoever said words cut deep, was right. Nessa wanted nothing more but to shove her conquest in Brandon’s face, yet knew it was immature. He was a ghost from her past, and did not matter in this new happiness she had found. It was time to finally let go of the anger and to do what she should have done years ago.

“Brandon Horton, I, Vanessa Heinsfeld, accept your rejection.”

She looked around and waited for something to happen. As it the world did not come to an end, she repeated it louder.

“I accept your rejection, Brandon.”

Nessa smiled as she finally made peace with her past. While she could never forget her bitter disappointment of love and mates, she could finally stop blaming herself and actually forgive herself. His reasons for behaving the way he did ceased to matter. Her past might have belonged with him, but her present was entirely hers. She had the right to search for her own happiness. The Goddess and the Fates had majorly screwed up, and it was up to Nessa to carve her little piece of happiness.

“I will be free to do as I please. Brandon, you have no control over me!”

Smiling, she reached out to pick her towel off the stand only to discover it was gone. An image of a certain werewolf, sporting her pink towel deliciously wrapped around his strong hips, came to mind. He had most likely discarded it in her room. With a new found confidence, Nessa stepped out of the shower and quickly dashed towards her bedroom. Nessa decided to use her new found self-esteem and try a seductive walk. She was free. She carried her baggage from their relationship. But she was a free, butt naked she-wolf, who didn’t give a damn what was proper. This was her place, her life, and her path. She could do whatever she wanted. If her courage did not waiver, Nessa promised herself next time she saw her green eyed friend to let him know pink was his color. She secretly hoped there would be a next time.

Things finally looked brighter.