Chapter 2 - Printing
Daniel
I pulled out the black leather chair and sat behind the desk, drawn for a moment by the large window that looked out over the forested peaks of Eagle Mountain. With the arrival of spring, the peaks were stripped of their snow cover, leaving space for the first eagles to abandon their nests in search of food.
Furthermore, although against my will, I had to entrust the pack with the task of keeping the borders of my territory monitored and protected. I trusted them, but the ranger, Sergeant Molloy, made agreements only with me and I could not have assigned any of my men to update and sign the agreements made in the past. This was also the reason why I had to go down to the valley.
Humans had not been allowed to hike that stretch of mountain for at least thirty years and scholars who entered those forests were always accompanied by specialized guides trained directly by Sergeant Malloy.
A long-time friend of my grandfather and then my father, he was the only human who knew of the existence of werewolves and thanks to his position as a ranger he allowed us to live our existence without humans mingling among us. The consequences would have been disastrous. For humans, that is.
"Brother". Dimitri entered my office, knocking lightly on the half-open door.
I jumped up and opened my arms, welcoming him into a hug of camaraderie. I hadn't seen him in a long time, but his features remained practically identical, a sign that he had shared a bed with a human.
“Who is he?” I asked the accomplice.
"A waitress," he dismissed with a shrug. “Nothing exceptional. But I was starting to get older and I couldn't be too picky. Which can't be said about you,” he laughed, pointing his finger at my forehead.
I looked up as if in doing so I could somehow see the two wrinkles that had appeared over the past six months.
“There are no humans up there in the forest,” I explained.
"If you continue to not have sex with a human, in five years you will look ninety years old."
Dimitri was right. What kept us werewolves strong was the arousal of human women. It penetrates our cells, renewing them and stopping the entire aging process. The problem is that most of the time the hugs don't end well.
A wolf's strength could not be channeled or subdued during mating, it roared until it became the absolute master of our actions, guiding us with an animalistic lust that made us seem like real beasts rather than sweet, dutiful lovers.
I sighed and looked back at the large window. I missed the outdoors, the wide spaces, and the wind on my face.
“It’s not aging that I worry about,” I confided.
Dimitri nodded and sank into the chair in front of the table. With a broad gesture of his arm, he invited me to sit.
"I know what worries you. By the full moon in October you will be thirty. Your expiration date. And I bet you haven't found your mate," he concluded with a sly smile.
I had never taken a human to a real bed, preferring the bathrooms of a nightclub or the back of a motel, and I rarely learned their first names. The name was the last thing I wanted to know about a human. I stole their hot liquid of excitement in the shortest possible time, trying not to leave any trace of my passage on their bodies so that they would forget about me and disappear without any problems.
"You seem certain that I haven't found my mate," I tried to get him out of the path. I didn't want to find myself in the situation of having to refuse his invitation to meet a human in those smelly places he loved to frequent.
“I am because for no other reason would you have abandoned the pack.”
“I wanted to check the situation in the city,” I lied.
“I’m in town,” he replied obviously. "I'm much better trained than you at blending in with humans and making sure no one becomes aware of our existence. So... you're here because the heat is about to start and you need to find a mate."
I looked at him. What it was?
"What makes you think I'm going to find her in the city? There are only humans here."
Dimitri's smirk turned into a grin. He closed his eyes and smelled the air. "You already found it."
I also smelled the air but didn't notice anything.
“You can’t smell yourself,” he instructed.
"What does my smell smell like?"
"It smells like gerberas."
"No," I started laughing. When I got up, I hit the table and some papers fell to the floor. "Don't talk nonsense. I've been here for half an hour and I haven't found any werewolves."
Dimitri sniffed again, craning his neck toward me. "Aromas of freshly spat gerberas".
I gritted my teeth and looked at him. “If I had been imprinted I would have noticed, don’t you think?”
"Your scent is unmistakable. I can smell it from two meters away. You taste like gerberas. The whole room is full. And the gerbera is the symbol of impression."
“Are there werewolves here? Eh?” I lost patience. “Tell me. There are some?
"Not that I know."
"Then hold your fucking nose because I feel like you're a failure." Holy shit, he stared!
The automatic elevator doors creaked, breaking the tension. Focused on each other, we sense someone's arrival with little margin of anticipation. With a shake of his head, Dimitri ordered me to cover my mouth and I quickly looked up at the end of the hallway.
We still couldn't see who it was, but we only had to sniff once to find out.
“That’s it” Becky,” Dimitri announced.
Without realizing it, I grabbed the letter opener and put it to his throat. Disconcerted by my gesture, I glanced between my brother's eyes and the improvised weapon about ten times. I pulled my hand away and dropped the paperweight. What the fuck was I doing?
“Forgive me,” I whispered apologetically. Seriously, what was wrong with me?
Dimitri adjusted himself better in the chair, opening his arms on the back and crossing his legs with a bold, almost ironic gesture. "Oh, oh! More than the smell of gerberas, I smell orange trees."
I shook my head, irritated. “Stop being an idiot.”
A knock on the door, still ajar, revealed the girl's presence. Her shadow stretched across the shiny tiles, toward mine, and it was so small that it was almost completely swallowed by it.
“Hi, Becky,” Dimitri greeted, spinning in his chair to look at her. “Come, come, sit down.”
"Good morning Mr Dimitri", she gave a shy smile that disappeared as soon as she looked at me. "Mr. Farrow, I hope I'm not late, but the Vanity Fair client has arrived and I took a moment to show him the latest graphics."
“Is this already here?”, Dimitri snorted, stretching his legs wrapped in a couture suit. “I better join him then. I'll have to have a meeting with you advertisers later."
“I'll let the others know,” Becky nodded.
“Sit down,” I pointed to the chair Dimitri had just vacated.
She waited for Dimitri to leave the room and procrastinated for a moment, looking at the chair as if it were a torture chair.
“Should I close the door, Mr. Farrow?” The shyness in her voice was almost unreal.
"It is not necessary."
“Oh.” She looked surprised and remained with her hand on the doorknob for a moment before deciding to take a few steps towards the table.
What did she think? Why was she so upset? I studied her every move, trying to figure out what was going on in her head, but I wasn't used to dealing with humans or even such shy women.
As soon as the tip of her shoe slipped a meter away from me, I was hit by an intense, sweet smell, completely unexpected for a woman her age. Only virgins used this type of perfume. I pinched the bridge of my nose and tried not to notice.
"An unlikely first date, don't you think?", I commented. No, seriously, why did Christ smell like a virgin?
The little girl nodded, looking at me for a moment. Then her eyes returned to the hands she had clasped on her thighs.
She wore a green dress, cinched at the waist with a yellow sash that matched her shiny shoes with modest heels. The classic dress you find at the flea market but with a cut that never goes out of style. It fit perfectly and didn't allow the fabric to completely cover the knees.
“I didn’t call you to scold you, so you could, Can you please start breathing again?” I tried to set my voice in a humorous tone.
Her shoulders rose with a deeper breath than before. “I owe you a full apology, Mr. Farrow. I didn't mean to be rude. I panicked when Connor reminded me of a piece of work I hadn't finished. It wasn't my place to do that, so it crossed my mind. I am generally very precise and punctual. Mr. Dimitri can confirm this for you.”
Inside my chest, I felt a feeling of oppression, as if my lungs were clogged. Suddenly I picked up the letter opener again and it was only thanks to a flash of clarity that I managed not to throw it against the doorframe. I grabbed the handle angrily and felt the metal bend and adjust to my knuckles. Why did it bother me so much to hear her talk about Dimitri?
“Do you and Dimitri collaborate often?” I asked. I had to use an angry tone because I saw her shudder in reaction to my words.
He seemed to have a strange connection with me. Everything I did or said, whether it was a stern look or a simple movement of the wrist to adjust the watch, triggered a series of reactions in her that she didn't even bother to hide.
It was an open book... written in Aramaic, unfortunately.
"That's my boss", she replied in her insecure little voice. She seemed afraid of being reprimanded at any moment and I absently wondered if Dimitri behaved rudely towards employees.
"Then?". What kind of response was that?
Becky bit her lip and looked at me for a split second. "Dimitri takes care of the administrative side, establishing campaign budgets while I am part of the advertising team. We need resources to set up and complete any project, so both the administrative and creative side collaborate hand in hand."
I rubbed my face and swallowed, overcome again by a sudden rush of his scent. She simply removed a strand of hair from her forehead and yet this movement released an irresistible vortex of perfume into the air that surrounded me.
Oh my God! How did Dimitri resist every day? All the time?
I closed my eyes and held my breath. I felt my irises burning, a s
ign that they were changing, turning red.
“Are you feeling okay?”, her little voice again, similar to that of a woman going through puberty.