I have read lots of stories about werewolves in the last few weeks, and I found most of them to be lacking something. Don't get me wrong, I loved most of them and gave 5 stars, but I'm not a fan of instant romance, or instant soul-mating on that behalf.
So, as a form of protest I came up with my own story and tried to dodge the instant happiness in favor of drama and more realistic building of relationships. If you're into classic "Alpha-shifter stories", this one probably won't meet your tastes.
This is an edited version of my story. Any similarities to real locations, people or events are unintentional. You may not duplicate, copy or distribute any parts of this story without my explicit (written!) consent.
~* Jared *~
Jared was tired. His eyelids drooped every few seconds and he had to blink and roll his eyeballs to re-wet them and stay awake. The west wing of Statsby Hall lay before him, promising a bed, a bath, and most important of all: peace of mind.
Damn that twenty-two hour drive!
Maybe Jared should have stopped somewhere along the way, but he hadn't wanted to waste even a second in his quest to get as far away from his family as possible. Ever since his application to Banes Central University had been accepted and he had gotten a rugby scholarship, Jared hadn't been able to sit still. Every extra day he had spent at home he had literally loved his family into pieces, just by living with them and being what he was.
But now Jared, finally, was free. He felt so relieved that he nearly fell asleep with his hands on the steering wheel and the motor of his little Volkswagen Beetle still running.
The act of unfolding his six-foot-two-inch frame out of the tiny driver's seat made him grunt and grumble, and when his feet finally found their way to the concrete ground he stumbled about a bit and had to lean against the side of his car to get his bearings.
Jared was a guy with broad shoulders, sinewy, powerful arms and the sunny, tanned exterior of a California surfer boy. He was someone who should lean against a nice BMW sports car, or a muscle car, but not against THAT. When people saw Jared next to the tattered old car, their brain often refused to make the connection between the hunk and the nerd-chariot. In their minds, there was no way Jared could ever fit into that thing. But since it was the last thing Jared had left to remember his grandpa by, swapping it for a more modern car was out of the question.
With a sigh, Jared looked up to the baby blue sky above. Only a few more minutes, then he could collapse onto his new bed and sleep.
What a relief!
Jared patted the left back pocket of his shaggy jeans where he kept the folded documents for his application, shoved his dead-tired carcass away from the car, and scuffled toward the main entrance of Statsby Hall.
That's when it hit him. Literally. The boomerang came out of nowhere, but that didn't ease the force of its collision with Jared's head. He didn't hear the shocked scream of the girl that had thrown it; he simply went down like a log.
He woke when he felt someone shaking his shoulders and blinked away dozens of shiny stars. The daylight hurt his eyes, but his head hurt even worse. "Ow! Damn," he mumbled, but his own words sounded hollow and far away. Then the world came back, crashing into his senses.
"Oh gosh, are you okay? Hey, can you hear me?" a female voice asked. Jared opened his eyes again and looked up into the blanched face of a pretty, brown-haired girl. She looked ready to faint, but kept shaking him bravely. "Come on, pal! Say something!"
"What was that-- are you Australian?" Jared mumbled, touching the side of his face. He felt a welt and some crusts, and when he looked at his fingertips, he saw blood. Ah, gorgeous! Not even inside his new home and already he had gotten attacked. The only thing missing was another Alpha living on-campus and another round of fights for dominance over a piece of land he had no interest in whatsoever, and this place would be just like home.
"Pretty cliché, huh? Don't move, you have a concussion," she drawled, pushing his hand away from the wound. "You are lucky you're not dead. I'm lucky you're not dead," she mumbled, then she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and pressed it onto the head wound.
Jared felt his wolf raise to the unintended challenge on his dominance and took the handkerchief off her to hold it in place by himself. Luck had nothing to do with him not being dead, although he could hardly tell her that. The girl smelled like a human and obviously meant well, but a hurt werewolf was dangerous and unpredictable. And a hurt, dominant werewolf might just try to attack anyone who tried to help him. Killing a werewolf with a boomerang would have been an impressive feat; killing a human teen would just have been sad.
"I'm alive, I guess," he groaned and then slowly sat up. A small flock of students had gathered around to watch them, and that made Jared even more nervous. He got up even though his stomach tried to crawl up his gullet.
"Whoa, you are so not alright!" she scoffed, and tried to support him by grabbing his arm. He swallowed a growl in her direction but tensed under her fingers, thinking calm thoughts at his wolf-instincts. He managed to hold still and to keep the snarl from his lips, but he couldn't relax. Not yet.
"It's just a bit of blood," he assured her, then threw a hard glance at the crowd and barked, "Move on people, nothing to see here!"
"I'm Darla. My middle name is take-you-to-the-sick-room. Come on, big boy," the girl said resolutely, pulled his arm and started dragging him towards the entrance of the student residence.
It was either rip her apart or just submit to her insistence. Jared contemplated version one for a good ten seconds, then hung his head and shuffled after her. He was simply too tired to stay angry for long.
The sick room was on ground level, right next to the students' admissions bureau. Jared threw a longing gaze to the sign when they passed it, wishing he could just shake off that boomerang-throwing hell strumpet and go in there to get assigned to his room. But Darla was unshakable in her quest to get him patched up, and she tugged at his arm demandingly when he slowed down.
"Come on mate, just a few steps more," she insisted.
Jared could have easily broken free. Hell, he could have easily punched a hole into the wall, and without a scratch to show for it, but humans didn't do things like that. And heterosexual humans were into beautiful, exotic women like Darla. Jared was neither human, nor heterosexual, but this was supposed to be a new start, a new, better life. He didn't want to risk it all on the first day.
