A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn

Fearless | March 8, 2010

There are certain behaviours that are associated with werewolves and one of them is fearlessness.

The werewolf, does not fear.

The human that may contain it, might, from time to time, but the werewolf side of our nature, does not.

Why would it?

Werewolves are not taught to fear. Most things, fear us, werewolves. So it’s kind of like a conditioning, we’re instantly born with. Something that’s automatic as it is instinctual. Most animals fear us too. Sensing the predatory hunter who is not only going to better them, but again, doesn’t fear them enough not to go after them.

After going through life, balancing the two halves of who the werewolf is against the human side and seeing the fall out from humans finding out about werewolves, it’s no wonder, we don’t fear. The reactions for the most part, are predictably played out, one of a few ways.

The human side is not taught, so much as learns from experiences what fear is and the meaning of it. But werewolves have no need for fear, no use for fear.

So going to someone’s house for dinner, meeting people I’ve never met before, should be easy, when you think of all the things you could fear in this world if you gave into the feeling of fear. If I understood the relevance of fear or seriously felt it.

I was nervous, I mean, that’s the best way to describe what I was feeling prior to going to Paris’s parent’s place for dinner and meeting the entire family.

Because they’re parents. Because they’re my packmate’s parents. Because they’re all Alpha werewolves, including Paris and I was the only beta wolf there. Because they’re from the Manhattan Maen Pack and I’m from the Breukelen.

Packs that whilst sharing some common ground with ways of thinking and business dealings, don’t have the same classes of werewolves in them.

Well I think I was right to give in to my girlie nature and get nervous. Because the dinner conversation was all about me being roasted by the head D’arenberg woman. His mother.

She went after me the minute I walked through their front door.

Paris leant forward and kissed his mother on the cheek.

I can see where he gets his cheekbones and beautifully silky smooth hair from. I handed over a bottle of red wine to her, which she examined briefly before scrutinizing me for a good two minutes before speaking.

“Mother,” Paris prompted.

“So you’re the wolf who’s tamed my son into a submissive relationship are you? You don’t look much like the power hungry type.”

Unbelievable, she didn’t just insult me, she insulted her son too, probably because he was with me. I would not call Paris, submissive by nature. Besides, who is she to speak? She’s married with two sons. Hello, relationship-ville.

Paris actually growled at his mother.
She didn’t even flinch, shrug her shoulders of make any attempt at apology.

Why would she? The arrogance just rolled off her, from the way she carried herself, let alone spoke to me, us.

She’s an Alpha female who’s probably used to having those around her, all but worship her furry rump.

I raised my eyebrow and smiled through my teeth till it hurt my face muscles. When she turned to lead us further into the house, I turned to Paris.

“Can I go her?”

“After that rude introduction, she’s all yours.” He replied with a tight smile as we followed her into the house. “You know what I like most about you?” He asked in a hushed voice.

I shook my head.

“Your a fighter no one sees coming, they under estimate your resilience and strength. I’ve always had a thing for strong minded women.” He tilted his head towards his mother. “I might have been influenced through out my life.” He said with a wry smile.

“So I’m like your secret weapon?”
He chuckled. “She always like this?” I asked him in a low voice. Paris rolled his eyes and glanced down at his mother and back at me.

“Do you know how many times I’ve bought a woman home to meet my family?”

I shook my head from side to side. My black hair swaying across my back.

“Two times. You’re the second.” He whispered back to me.

“What happened to the first?” I asked in a whisper.

“She was told outright she was not worthy of me, by my mother. Who then proceeded to point out ever fault and issue with my date, including her family name, the way she dressed, the car she drove, neighbourhood, background – everything.”

I stopped him and looked him in those midnight blue eyes.

“So why would you put me through this then, if you know she’s not going to change her approach?”

“Because your different, your tough and I know you can handle her. I want my family to meet you because your important to me. You know that right?” He asked before leaning forward and kissing me.

It was the kiss of reassurance, of warmth as his lips pressed into mine. His arm slipped down around my hip, pulling me closer to him for even more contact. I felt strength in his hold, as he held me close.

We broke apart for air, our eyes glazed as we looked at each other. Only seeing one another and all we needed to know in those looks. Nothing can touch that kind of belief in one another.

His mother called out to us.

“Please tell me you have some social decency skills, even for a wolf from Brooklyn.”

She didn’t even have the decency to say my pack’s name. Bitch.

“More than you would think.” I said loud enough for her to hear, the aggravation in my voice.

I smiled back at Paris and we straightened up and proceeded into the living room to meet the rest of the pack.

I have no doubt that the only mistake I made at my dinner time date was appearing nervous before her.
A classic text book case of animal behaviour. If you appear weak or afraid before the predator, they will know they have you in their sights and they will go for the kill.

Nerves, construed as weakness, coming from a beta wolf, from another pack, who’s dating, her beloved son. An Alpha male. That’s the basic analysis of my screw up.

Her introduction to me, gave me all the heads up I needed. I mean, why wouldn’t a beta wolf bow down to a matriarch like Marion D’arenberg?

Maybe because I don’t play that way, those type of emotional games of intimidation. Because I don’t think so lowly of myself, as to be timid or unworthy. Because that kind of fear, is stupidly irrational and completely beatable. Because I’ve been around plenty of Alpha’s and I know the attitude well and how they operate.

I may be beta werewolf, but I’m not weak, and I won’t back down from being challenged. I wasn’t raised that way. I come from a family with plenty of Alpha attitude in them. I was raised in the spirit of that. A leading pack family, that instilled fortitude in all it’s pups and never suffers insolence, no matter who you think you are.

I may slip into my human habits every now and then, like letting nerves rule me at times, but I never forget that I’m a werewolf.

It’s a good thing too. Because I sure won’t back away from being challenged over my relationship with Paris.

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