Lust came over me. At least, that’s what I said to myself on the way back from the trip to the lake. It was partially hormones that had a part to play with my behaviour. That, and the fact that this baby was having me all over the place. An emotional rollercoaster.

One minute I wanted to run away from Samson. And the next, I was falling in-between his legs; sucking his Johnson for no money at all, and succumbing to playing with myself with a red face that no mother would think wasn’t up to anything naughty.

It happened so fast. And then he came into my mouth and I didn’t spit it out at first. His semen was socializing in there, and the disturbing thing is, I wanted him to express the love all over my face with my tongue waggling as long as a dog’s whilst slurping it all up like syrup.

That was my hormones! Ragingly mad, and far from what I would ever do with an Alpha. Samson had loved it. His face exhausted and devoid from any colour that had once been his complexion as he fell back onto the bed and laid there for ten minutes. Nothing from him. Just the sound of him rubbing his nose and scratching his head, before he got up and said, “That was amazing.”

Even on the way home he kept telling me, “That was amazing.” And when he carried me back into the house and placed me on the sofa to relax he announced, “You were amazing.”

His limited vocabulary was sweet. I felt shy whenever a cute little grin would be on the side of his cheeks and he would try to disguise it and think of anything that could distract him from that moment.

My hormones raged again, but with the family home, I knew that me and Samson would have to keep that under control. But I, too, was having a cheeky grin and it made his eyes widen.

“You should be proud of yourself. I’ve never cum that hard before.”

“What about the first time?”

“Apart from the first time.” We both shyly smile. “Did you enjoy yourself today?”

“A little too much, I think.”

“Well, I wanted to show you a good time. Get that open sea-air inside of you. You might not think it, but that puking-up you did was sort of a mini clearance of your system.”

“It did help.”

“Yeah.” His head buried low. “I enjoyed your company today.”

“Was that a hard thing to say?”

“No…just… I wanted you to know that…I felt it was the same for you.”

“Samson, today was absolutely lovely. I haven’t felt so spoilt in a long…long … time. It felt almost too good to be real. I kept thinking that any second I would wake up and find that this was all some sort of nightmare.”

“What kind of a nightmare would have a beautiful lake and pure water?”

“The kind that’s only a mirage.” At the last word, mirage, I’m reducing my whole tone to nothing more than a whimper and a deadly whim to say no more. But pushing Samson to the side when another crack and more super-glue is coming together would be wrong.

Ok, Samson is an Alpha, and that meant the separation of our strengths. He could overpower me, the Omega. And without having to guess, he could even kill me without having to barely try. I’d been tested to that limit before. Brought right to the edge and suffocated right down to having to beg for him to stop.

But they were not the same shifters. And to move on from that past timeline…however hard it may be, would require me to add new chapters. All this ran its course within. I gave Samson an inquisitive look from the inside – out. If he was going to hear my story, then I’d have to now for-sure, that he was ready and able to be the one that didn’t commit the same crime twice.

I got ready to tell him. Sat upright which caused him to mimic that action. Took in a deep breath…so did he. He mirrored everything I did. A sign of true attraction for me. I was going to finally unleash my coldness and why it was always winter with me and never a better change of the weather.

But before I could speak, I shouted, “Samson, get down!” I’d heard a tousle of footsteps outside and then a brick zoomed through the window replacing my words into a screech, as I rolled off the sofa and behind the dining table as a whole load of rogue wolves came flooding over the window-sill like they were on some operative mission.

Samson checked to see if I was ok, and then with an almighty ruffle and shake; shifted into his alter: goldenly grey wolf with a fluffy orange, black, and white mane, and then ruggedly roared – which had me cowering and crawling underneath the table. His growl was a signal for me to do that. Samson was a rare looking wolf.

He then jumped out to face the music. “Groooowwwwl!”

His opponents were wolves with a fading grey that looked washed away. They had strong jaws; canines ready to rip Arden to shred-a-reens; a thick coat of fur tussled as they shook their hinds and faces from the broken glass; and large paws with four toes. They were mean. Mean and ready to hurl the place into a museum of broken bits.

But Samson firstly gave them a warning to step back. “Go back!” he snarled.

They only whimpered mockingly at him. Five of them with eyes that already envisioned him as dead. Samson didn’t wait for them to make the first leap. He flung out a paw with his sharp nails and they each jumped back. He did this a second time and the wolves merely snapped back at him.

I held my belly as I laid upon it. Making sure to apply as little pressure as possible. I wanted to help. But what could I do in this state? I could see that Samson, so far, had it under control. They were trying to get past him, but he wouldn’t let them! He kept violently flinging his paw and eventually one slashed the face of a wolf who was whimpering in pain now.

This set the rest of his pack off who decided to just go for it…jumped upon him and bit-down: knash – knash on his back and fur. But Samson grappled one with his teeth; flung another against the fireplace; ripped deeply inside the flesh of a wolf who was going for the strangle from the left-side of his neck. Like when a tiger took down an antelope. And had one in his teeth who resembled a squealing baby piglet struggling to break free.

Samson got there in time, but they kept pouncing back and he would shimmy backwards and lash out against the jugular of a wolf. It worked. But two – came at him and almost pinned him down… I said almost, but he rolled over and this disorientated their plan. He then head-butted one in the side; and kicked back on the face of the other who yelped.

They were relentless with their attacks. But Samson made sure that they wouldn’t get past him. If one of them managed, he’d be yanking on a tail with his teeth and I witnessed the excruciating pain on many of their faces. He was covered in scratches, but Samson kept going.

He took both of his paws and crushed both sides of the enemy wolf’s head. The eyes started to pop out of the sockets in an animated style. I closed my eyes when he started to sink his canines into the eyes of the beast, and then chucked him aside to wrestle another to the floor and bite into his neck.

The rogues were injured; fleeing before death became the final chapter for them. I heard my family come down. But Samson insisted they stay back as he was winning.

He was clearing the rogues up until one slipped past him, by chance, because a persistent block-head had gripped him by the ears and wouldn’t let go. They were swirling around the living room; knocking over picture frames and jugs while Samson tried to break free. The blood starting to trickle.

The fading grey wolf was nearing to me. I quickly crawled backwards…as fast as I could. He brought out his teeth and I tried to snarl at him. I showed him I wasn’t a coward. But the baby. I needed to make sure that I protected the baby.

Samson was making a racket. Fiona was screaming. My father wanted to bust inside. But it would be useless. I was nearly out from under the table, but was dragged back through by the wolf who managed to clasp onto my collar manically and crazily pulled on me.

He went for a low-blow cut, he made some impact on the side of my brow. But instantly, Samson tugged him off me after a couple of yanks. He didn’t want to let me go! The final tug was him lashing at an invisible ball of yarn and Samson pulling him all the way to the broken window.

The wolf twisted around and went for Samson’s face…but Samson slashed both of his wrists and the wolf howled in agony. Then he started to plough down savagely upon the underbelly; hind; neck; and chest of that dark grey atrocity. The screams switched from human-to-beast…human-to-beast…until all that was left was the growls of a goldenly-grey wolf feasting.

The wolf he attacked had a little life left, so, Samson gripped him by the neck and slung him through the window; jumping through and unbridling his sharp paws until the final cries were human and no other.

I waited, until Samson had finished his massacre. The carnage, when I re-opened my eyes, was a disaster. There was blood everywhere! The smell filled me with dread: iron atoms, metallic and obviously from human cells of the beast. The wolf’s odour was more like the carcass of a dead dog with cancer. It was horrible. I ran into the kitchen and vomited into the sink.

Fiona’s tiny footsteps came scuttling down the staircase and before I knew it, she jumped into my arms and hugged the life out of my neck. I swung her around to assure her that me and the kid were ok. She didn’t let go. And neither did I. I held her for as long as she needed me to. And it was longer than I thought…

But it wasn’t over yet. Soon enough, I heard Samson, who screamed for me to run! I broke free from Fiona’s embrace and saw that one of the wolves who we predicted was dead in the living room was up – and tried to pull my little sister with his teeth. He was stretching her cardigan to the max! The wool coming apart and revealing her pink flowery top underneath.

I tried to break her free from his grasp. But he was closing-in: taking the whole darn sleeve off. I quickly helped my sister to get out of the cardigan. She wiggled and screamed with tears rolling down her face.

“Keep looking at me.”

The wolf replied instead of Fiona with a horrendous snarl!

She was frightened. Poor thing. Samson was scurrying over the window-sill; finishing off a silverfish-wolf.

He took a chunk out of the top of his head with one nasty swoop. I watched Samson pop up behind the beast who nearly had my sister. And the last thing I saw was Samson’s paw and his razor-sharp nails take off a whole chunk of the opposing wolf’s face: the side. He had no cheek left.

And to finish him off, Samson raised both of his sharp paws into the air and pressed down into his stomach: pushing the flesh apart until he could see a couple of organs.

I dared to say, “Is that it? Are they all dead?”

Samson gave a full swoop of the living room and outside.

I embraced my trembling sister inside my arms. I held her close as she wept. I whispered, “It’s ok. It’s ok.”

She didn’t believe me and continued to cry. Samson still checked the dead bodies. Removed them from the inside, and piled them outdoors.

When Samson was satisfied that everything was ok. He came back to me and Fiona with a message. “All clear.” And metamorphosed back into his human body. Samson tussled Fiona’s hair gently. Then gave me a reassuring look that there was nothing more to worry about. I stood there amazed at his leap to defend me and my family.

That was beyond what I expected from him. My father came down the stairs thanking Samson continuously and shaking his hand as if he just became the vice president. He’d done my father a real favour. Saved me. And protected Fiona from being eaten. She’d be an easy meal for the rogue wolves. They wouldn’t have let a meal like that slip. Even if she was only bones and little flesh.

“Samson, my boy. You’ve done this family a huge favour. A really big deed today. That sort of thing doesn’t go amiss by me.” He patted Samson on the back. “I want you to know that I’m more than happy for you to be the official mate for my son. I couldn’t ask for a better Alpha to take that position next to him.”

Fiona suddenly sprung from me and jumped upon Samson from that announcement.

Flynn lightly cackled. “And no doubt, my daughter feels the exact same way.”

Samson bent down and squeezed my little sister who was wiping her tears with the side of her fists. Samson gave her a pat like a baby who needs burping. But Flynn held out his arms to her, and she ran to him, was lifted into the air and the tightness that he engulfed her in would mend the most broken of children.

I went over to them and slung my arms around them both. Family. We were the Wine family.

Samson watched and waited for us to recover from that ordeal. He cleaned himself up by washing his cuts and sores clean in the kitchen sink: the blood rushing and disappearing down the hole as he the water ran. He applied some alcohol to his wounds: whiskey, that my father kept in the cupboard above. Clenched his teeth down upon a rolling pin used for flattening dough; and allowed the pain to rush over him.

He licked his forearm like a cat with that long tongue of his. And then took a few cloths to wipe the mess he made around the sink. By the time Samson was done, my father was attending to Fiona to see if she had any marks.

Apart from the cardigan which my father threw into the waste bin, she was free from any cuts or bruises. But Flynn still took a damp cloth to her forehead and cooled her off. Then sat her down on the kitchen table whilst he went and surveyed the damage to the living room and window.

I was ready to approach Samson, to go upstairs into my room and recuperate from that episode. I saw him: covered in marks that must have surely stung. I slowly walked over to him…placed my hand gentler than I ever had on his shoulder, and saw his eyes come to meet mine in a way that no man had ever looked at me before.

He was in pain. I tried to dab at a few of his cuts, but he flinched and took his forearm politely away with a painful smirk. I apologized, and then took his hand to lead him upstairs. He followed me with no hesitation as I led him. He had a slight limp which I hadn’t noticed before. And it made it difficult for him to move.

The rouge wolves did a number on him. But Samson was tough. “I’ll be ok. Let’s just get up there, Arden.”

I nodded I agreed.

He slung his arm over me and step-by-step we made it all the way to the top of the heap. He took his arm off my shoulder and I opened the door for him to pass-through, but before he went in, I drew him back for a passionate kiss. He saved my life. And then I closed the door behind us. And when we got onto that bed I kissed him some more. I was more than bloody grateful to have him here.