Denial

In a world where there is one other person destined to your heart, a boy belonging to the Crescent Moon pack discovers the loser of the school might just be that person. But will he accept their fate or deny it?

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1. Oppression

Bright, white light came bursting through one of the rooms to a beautiful three story home in Naselle, Washington. The town was extremely small in population and rarely sunny. It was a very depressing place to visit and an even more depressing place to live. Sixteen year old Malachi Davila groaned at the sudden intrusion of light. He was confused until he realized it was Friday. The last day of the week. He was, of course, happy he had the entire weekend ahead of him. On the other hand, he didn't want to leave the safe haven he called his bed. Until his mother threatened to feed the cat all of his beef jerky. With a final groan of annoyance he tossed his comforter aside and rose from his mattress. His room was still as messy as he had left it. There were clothes strewn all about the floor and his dresser. A few pairs of shoes here and there were in the mix as well. His video games and CDs were tossed on every available surface and some weren't in their cases. That's what happens when your maid is on her honeymoon for a week. He tumbled over to his walk in closet while rubbing the sleep out of his dark brown eyes. They appeared almost black as night, which he thought would have been much cooler. He began to rummage through his clothes until he finally chose what he wanted to wear. It was a pair of khaki shorts and a navy blue T-shirt with 'Breathe If You Want Me' scrawled across the front in white calligraphy writing. He was very low on clothes since he'd been working out more often. He used to be a really scrawny dweeb. Now that he's been going to the gym every other day since last year he had gotten a nice six pack with some strong muscles. Nothing too huge, just the right size of sexy. He was excited for tomorrow. Not only would it mark one year since he had began working out, but it was also his eighteenth birthday. Hopefully tomorrow would be the day he finally found his other half; his mate. Yeah, you heard right. Malachi is a werewolf belonging to the Crescent Moon pack. Everyone in his pack was excitingly impatient for him to hit the legal age of adulthood and join forces with the one that was destined to belong to him. After all, his father was the alpha king of the pack. That meant that once he found his mate, he would become the new alpha king. He wasn't as excited as he thought he would be. More than anything he was really nervous. He was going to go from having little say in how things worked in the pack to having most of the say. It was nerve-wracking to say the least. He was worried he wasn't going to be able to fill his father's shoes. That he was going to make the wrong decisions and get a lot of people hurt. With a final deep breath, he shook the doubts from his mind. There was no use in creating scenarios in his head that would only worry him. Besides, he was the next in line for the alpha king. He didn't have the luxury to doubt himself and feel nervous. He was the one the pack was going to rely on to guide them. He'd be damned if he was going to cower in a corner and let his fellow werewolves down. "Malachi you're going to be late for school!" His mother shouted from the kitchen downstairs. He quickly slid his trainers on and raced down the staircase. His principal had said if he was late one more time he would be suspended. That would definitely affect his straight A grades. When he emerged into the kitchen, his mother was just setting the table. His father was dressed in a formal suit, reading the newspaper at the breakfast table. His younger sister was nowhere to be seen. "Good morning Malachi. Breakfast will be ready soon. Could you go retrieve your sister?" His mother asked. Without hesitation he climbed the stairs again. His sister's room and was right across the hall from his own. Even from this distance he could hear the screamo shit she listened to blaring from her radio. He liked rock music, but most of it was soft rock. She was into the hardcore stuff. She was the scariest goth girl he'd ever seen. With that in mind, he cautiously opened the door to her bedroom. She was lying on her bed, dressed in a black and white checkered skirt with fishnet leggings. Her shirt was a black V-neck with some band called 'Bring Me The Horizon' sprawled across her breasts in red, bloody-looking writing. Her shoes were heavy chained boots that went up to her mid calves. The craziest part was her makeup and hair. She wore heavy eyeliner with lines going down the corners of her eyes, appearing as if she was crying black tears. Her lipstick was a deep purple that was so vibrant it almost blinded Malachi. Her dark brown hair was teased so big he thought a bird would nest in there. She was a freak with a capital scary. "What have I told you about knocking asswipe?" She growled, reaching across the bed to her dresser. She grabbed a pocket knife and stuck it out towards his direction. He almost wet his pants. "Sorry Zee, but breakfast is ready," Malachi mumbled. She may only be fourteen, but she was dangerous. She once broke a boy's arm in the third grade because he stole her gummy bears. Her name was actually McKenzie, but she demanded people call her Zee when she was ten. She said that McKenzie was the name of a whinny little bitch. Zee was never one to beat around the bush. "I'm not eating," she replied, cranking up her music louder. That was his cue to leave her alone. His heart began to go back to it's normal beating pace once he closed her door back and Zee wasn't in his sight. He made his way back downstairs once again to have his mother's world famous breakfast. Okay, maybe it wasn't that popular. But to him his mother was the greatest cook in the whole world. His breakfast was in his usual spot at the corner of the table. He slid into his seat and began to devour his ham and cheese omelette. His father sat across from him, still reading his newspaper and sipping his plain black coffee. Malachi couldn't stand the taste of coffee as it was. He couldn't even begin to imagine how his father could drink it plain. 'Good morning Malachi," he muttered, not even glancing up from the page. Malachi rolled his eyes. His father had been short with him ever since he was fifteen. They used to have an amazing relationship. They would go on hiking trips and play football together all of the time. But when he came out as gay, he ignored his only son most of the time. He only spoke when it was needed. "Morning," Malachi muttered back, shoving a stray piece of ham quite forcefully into his mouth. "So are you excited for tomorrow?" his father asked, finally looking up at his son with a dark eyebrow raised. "Yeah." "I'm sure she'll be beautiful," his father smiled sickeningly sweet. Steam could've been shooting out of his ears Malachi was so outraged. He didn't want a female mate! He wanted a boy. He knew that no matter what you'd be attracted to your mate but it didn't matter. He wanted someone to hold, someone that didn't have round things on their chests and nothing between their legs. His father sure knew how to push his buttons. "Or he will be beautiful," Malachi shot back, smirking into his glass of apple juice. His father's eyes narrowed, not warming up to the idea of him having a male mate. Even in this world, where your mate was chosen by fate, homophobia existed. It was rare for a same sex mate but it wasn't impossible. It was a one in five chance. Malachi was very unhappy with those odds. "You can't have a male mate." "Says who?" "Me." "You can't change fate." His father jumped up out of his chair so violently it crashed to the floor. His eyes were ablaze with anger and he was breathing through his mouth. Before he had the chance to scream obscenities at his first born, his mother raced into the room. She was obviously coming back from trying to coax Zee into eating breakfast. "Marshall! Leave our son alone!" She scolded, waving a spatula towards him. The only weakness his father had was his mate. He stormed off towards the front door, snatching up his briefcase from the counter on the way. He was grumbling curse words under his breath before slamming the door shut behind him. The house rattled in protest. His mother's gaze shot to him instantly. "And you Malachi! You need to stop taunting your father!" She shouted. "He started it!" "I don't give a flying fuck! You both need to quit this quarreling! It's getting quite old young man!" She replied. With that she tossed the spatula into the kitchen sink and went back upstairs. Malachi rolled his eyes. He didn't do anything to provoke his old man. If anything, his dad was trying to provoke him. He knew how much Malachi worried he would end up with a female mate and he took advantage of that fact. All Malachi was trying to do was get back at him. Suddenly he had lost his appetite. He wrapped the half eaten omelette in Reynolds Wrap and shoved it into the refrigerator. With a final huff he swung his backpack over his shoulder, snatched up his car keys, and made his way towards his car. Maybe the rest of the day would make up for this shitty morning. Hopefully.
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