Adrian by V. Vaughn

bear happy by remaining physically active, but with warrior blood in my veins, I’ll never be content living in a city. I need to shift and run more than most werebear, and unless I want to start a Werebear of Boston phenomenon, I need to live in a country setting. In other words, two major things I planned for my life can no longer happen.
    This kind of thinking should have my bear prickling to escape, but she’s content. It makes me realize I haven’t faced reality because I’ve been too busy dealing with my altered state. Now that I give my bear what she needs, I can focus on what comes next. White lines on the asphalt tick by, and when I grip the wheel a bit higher, I gaze at my hands and imagine how they look as huge meaty paws. I watch the muscles in my forearm ripple as I flex and recall how powerful they are. My body is a fierce fighting machine that has only begun to realize its potential, and I wonder if I’m trying to make something work instead of letting my destiny be. Perhaps instead of struggling to contain my warrior tendencies, I should grab them and hold tight.
    A blue billboard announces the rest stop ahead, and the blinker ticks as I prepare to exit. As my car slows down, I make my decision. I’m going to become a De Rozier warrior and accept my fate. When I step out of the car, a cool breeze blows around me and through my hair. My feet tap with purpose on the asphalt as I make my way to the building, and my heart feels light. It’s as if the chains of self-doubt and the regret of becoming a werebear have been removed. I know what I’m supposed to do.
    I yank on the heavy door to get inside, and a guy with earbuds walks by me. The rock music is loud enough for me to hear it. Sven likes silence when we work out, and the sound of the pop tune is like a distant memory. Suddenly my longing for Adrian paralyzes me, and I crumble to the ground with my anguish.
    A man asks, “Are you okay?” and I glance up to a stranger’s face framed by blond hair. I nod before I let him help me up.
    I get in line for coffee, and the strong odor wafts toward me as I realize I’m forgetting a very important piece of my life -- Adrian. How am I going to be a warrior in the De Rozier clan if he’s off touring with the band? A tear drips from my chin, and my hand is cold on my face when I wipe it off. I decide I don’t want coffee and step out of the line. Cool air wraps around me as I walk out of the building. How long could I really last? I shake my head. We have to find a way to make this work . But how?

12
    I get to Brunswick before seven and let myself into our apartment as quietly as I can. I had hoped to climb in bed with Adrian, but he’s sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and is practically naked. I gaze at the expanse of skin I want to feel. “Hey.”
    His mug thumps as he stands, and the only article of clothing he’s wearing doesn’t hide his desire. He lets out a low growl and picks me up to throw me over his shoulder. I yelp and let him, because I’m happy to ignore my warrior for the greater good.
    Adrian deposits me on the bed, and the scent of my mate rises from the sheets as I scramble to strip off my clothes. He growls at what I reveal and hovers over me as he says, “I need to taste you.” His voice gets deep as he commands, “Now.”
    I tremble beneath him as I spread my legs, and he groans as he lowers his mouth to my sex. I mewl as he worships me with his tongue and brings me to the crest of an orgasm. Before I can come, he stops and takes over with his hand. My juices glisten on his chin as he moves up to kiss me. I taste my tangy flavor mixed with the essence of Adrian as he works me with his fingers.
    I gyrate beneath his touch, aching for release, but he stops again. “You’re torturing me, Adrian.”
    “I want to be inside you when you come.” He sighs as he gazes down at me. “I don’t like being apart.”
    My heart aches, but now is not the time to talk, so