Prologue..
#1 of Lunar
© All characters and storylines surrounding these characters belong to me, Eben Black..
November. It was a month of mourning for me. It was the month that I had been abandoned. It was the month that the estranged brother I'd looked up to had declared me a monster and threatened to kill me. It was the month in which our mother had been buried, and in turn our father had committed suicide. Yeah. November was not a pleasant month. And to top it all off this November seem to have been accompanied by an ominous snow storm. News channels were announcing it as the London Blizzard, but the weather was far from my mind this time of year. For the last three years since that dreadful month, I had been alone, I had had friends and acquaintances, but no one to hold and be held by in return, no one to wipe the tears from me when they appeared, no one to remind me that I was not alone. But that had changed.
I had someone now. A beautiful white tiger named Snow. The man was strong, good natured and kind hearted. He and I were lovers and had been for almost seven months now. I hoped and prayed Snow would never leave.
I watched as the blizzard reigned on, blustering the quiet, darkened streets of London below. From what I had heard even the Thames had been frozen over and had even been used as a skating rink for the children. I sat on a low window sill, the cool white wooden surface hard and secure, while I eased back against the arch of the window and gazed out at the cold winds and beautiful white blankets that smothered the town. I was nineteen, a slender, but toned wolf, charcoal grey in colour, blue-eyed and sat in a pair of black pyjama bottoms, a paw-print emblem upon the one thigh. The bottoms had been a present from the white tiger asleep in the bed across the bedroom. I had pulled back my knees to my chest and crossed my arms so I could use them like a pillow. I sat there, huddled, gazing at the place I now called home. It was November. An eerie, ominous time for me, and still I had a sensation. I'd realised this sensation was down to the humble feline asleep. No matter how cold it seemed beyond this apartment, the man in that bed would always keep me warm and safe no matter what happened.
But still my mind wandered and picked at the things that truly bothered me. Tomorrow we would be going to where my mother's burial had been performed. There was a tombstone there, a white, marble memorial stone. Three years ago I had returned home from school and had sat my parents down and explained that I was interested in men. Two things had happened, Father had denounced me as his son, while Mother had embraced me as her son. In time the two argued and soon began to loathe one another. Father blamed me for my mother's death, she'd died from a car crash but had been fleeing from Father at the time. Father had said that he would not have argued with her had I not revealed I was a monster. Two weeks passed on, Father drank and drank and denounced work, and soon died in our old house.
It sounds strange, but there was some small shadow of me that had been pleased when he'd passed on. He was tormented by what I was, and hopefully he'd moved on to a place of peace now.
But there was one person who had developed a whole new kind of hatred toward me. Ethan. He was two years older than me and had taken the deaths of his parents bad. He'd looked for someone to blame.
He'd found me.
We both went our seperate ways following their funerals. Ethan swore he'd never forgive me for ruining our home, and I promised never to burden him again.
Three years on and here I was, huddled on the window sill in my bedroom, a whole new life stretched out before me, a wonderful man asleep in our bed, and still, still I looked back on the past and hated what I saw. Was I a beast like Father had said? Was I indeed responsible for breaking down our family bonds? I turned and sat on the edge of the window sill, paws touching the carpeted floors underneath. The whole apartment was warm. Good heating or just the sign of a good home? I stood up, the flourish of a charcoal coloured tail behind me, as I stretched and yawned. I brushed the two small silver loops that graced my right ear. Both were the first thing I bought when I moved to London and started a new life for myself. Both had remained there since then, a reminder that a new life meant moving forward. I did move forward, but that does not mean one cannot glance over his shoulder at the past.
I walked around the queen-sized bed to where Snow was asleep.
Standing this broad-shouldered, muscular powerhouse stood at a massive six foot six. He was a true-blue athlete. I swam and ran for excercise, while he boxed and used weights. Don't get me wrong, Snow was not an overmuscle meat head who could not move quick enough. He was limber and agile, most of which I believe he had to thank from his feline genes. But he was a professional athlete, a boxer who worked down at a local school where he was a PE teacher. He had a brilliant can-do personality and had always enjoyed being active, he'd even talked me into some outdoor vacations once or twice. Camping. Long weekends in a cabin down South near the coastal line.
He frowned in his sleep for a heartbeat and then settled again. Bad dream perhaps? No. Snow had no bad dreams.
I kneeled beside the bed, leaning my arms upon the sheets while I gazed at the beautiful white tiger that slept before me. What would I do without him? I knew without looking that this powerhouse was gentle, calm and loving. I knew that behind those closed, white eyelids resided two of the most beautiful cerulean eyes I'd ever seen. His slender tail curled over his hip and draped down over the edge of the bed. I adored him. I stood up and brushed by as I rounded the bed again and crawled onto the mattress on my side. The bed moved from the additional weight I'd added and stirred the tiger a little. I lay down on my side, back facing the muscular form of my lover. I felt that bed move a second time and then felt the warm, gentle line of the tiger's body spooning against mine. His arm snaked across my hip and touched me. There was a shudder from me, and nothing else. There was no sex involved I had noticed, because Snow was one of few men who was more comfortable sleeping with someone to hold than sleeping alone. His other hand snaked under the arch of my neck and his forearm gently cradled me. I snuggled as far back as I could before I felt his head rest against my shoulder.
Snow was indeed a brilliant choice for cuddling. The man was warm, safe and loving enough to let you use him as a blanket sometimes instead of the sheets. He even worked better sometimes at keeping me warm.
Snow took a deep breath and exhaled, he settled and slept on without a word. I remained there, residing beside the man I loved knowing sleep would soon swallow me up. I trailed fingertips along the man's arms and closed my eyes. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to sleep and then wake up with this person still wrapped around me. As I began drifting off again, I hoped and prayed for a second time that Snow would never leave me. Did I adore this tiger? No I did not adore him. I loved him. I loved him and hoped that this month would be like all the others that had passed us by previously.
I will not lie. There is some part of me that had a feeling that this month something would happen. November was never a good month for me.
I eased back against the warm hold of the feline behind me and gazed at the falling white mist outside. As beautiful as snow is, it can also sometimes be an eerie omen for those who believe in that kind of thing. Did I believe the snow storm was some form of omen? Yeah. Yeah I did. Tears burned at the back of my eyes as I huddled against the warm curve of this feline's arm and let the tears fall in a silent shudder.
Please. Please, please, please, please don't take him from me like you took everyone else!