tagNonHumanCaribbean Werewolf Romance

Caribbean Werewolf Romance

bySamuelx©

The life of a wolf-man's girlfriend isn't the easiest thing in the world, but I wouldn't give up mine for the world. In case you're wondering who this is, the name is Madeline Sutherland, and I'm a young woman living in the City of Toronto, province of Ontario. I was born on November 8, 1989, in Kingston City, Jamaica, to a Black mother and English father, which explains my unique looks, I guess. I stand five feet eleven inches tall, neither fat nor thin, but pleasantly curvy. I have short, curly black hair, light brown skin and light brown eyes. My mother, Beatrice Sutherland and I moved to the Greater Toronto Area in the summer of 1997. We've been living here ever since.

I study criminal justice at Ryerson University in Toronto, and for the most part, I lead a pretty normal life. I work as a cashier at the local Loblaws grocery store on weekends, just to make some extra cash because I hate being broke. I like to play the piano, and my favorite show is Criminal Minds, followed by CSI and Law & Order : Criminal Intent. I'm buying the whole series on DVD and watching it from the beginning. Yeah, I lead a pretty normal life, until one day my mother revealed something to me. Apparently, something runs in our family. Now, when your parents sit you down and have that talk with you, typically you worry that diabetes or baldness might run in your genes. For me, it was something much worse. You see, lycanthropy runs in my family. My mother has it, and she was hoping that I wouldn't have it since my late father, Anthony Lincolnshire, was totally human and not one of the Lupines, but she was wrong.

Lupine is what us werewolves call ourselves by the way. There are a few of us out there, spread all over the world. I found this hard to believe, until one night, I simply transformed. Now, when you watch a movie about my kind, we're typically shown to be ravenous monsters and all that shit. Don't believe what you see in the movies or read about in poorly written horror novels. Oh, and don't start with that Twilight shit either. Lupines are a species, just like any other species. We look like ordinary humans, but we aren't. Understand that we're not people transformed into wolf-like beings by the light of the moon. We're a different species altogether. For the most part, lupines and humans can't interbreed, except in the rarest of cases. I guess that explains how I came into the world. The half-breed daughter of a lupine mother and human father. I guess I'm a half-breed in every way, since my mother is Black and my father was White. Talk about unique. I'd find it funny if it weren't happening to me.

Anyhow, after my mom dropped this bomb on me, I found it hard to accept but eventually, I came to realize that being a lupine was something I had to live with. Once in a while, I've got to let out the beast, so to speak. Wolf out, that's what we call it. Every fifteen days, the wolf in me wants out and if I don't let it out, it's bad for me. It's like trying not to take a shit when you've really got to go. Eventually, it's going to come out of you whether you like it or not, if you know what I mean. It's best to let nature take its course, in the grand scheme of things. When I wolf out, I feel beautiful. In the movies, werewolves are these huge, hairy beasts. That is not who or what we are, trust me on that one. When I transform into my other self, I become a magnificent black she-wolf. I look like an ordinary female wolf with a black coat, that's all. Once transformed, I can move faster, I feel stronger and my senses are sharper. I don't feel ravenous, angry or destructive. I simply feel...free.

I like being a wolf-woman, and from what my mom tells me, being what we are does have its benefits. Growing up, I never got sick, except for getting my period at the right time each time just like all other women I know. I don't remember being particularly athletic, but I've always been pretty strong. I can lift five times my own weight without too much trouble even while in human form, and I think I could outrun the Olympian Usain Bolt if I wanted to. Like I said, being what we are has its advantages. The only drawback is that in wolf society, it's a bitch fest. I'm serious. For some reason, females outnumber males three to one in our species. That is a serious imbaJerome, and since most female werewolves prefer to be with men from our species, it makes life tough for them. Male werewolves know this, and they take advantage of that. The bozos run around and play, and that leaves a lot of wolf ladies frustrated and angry.

Maybe it's because I'm a half-breed, but I've never really felt attracted to men of my erstwhile species. I've dated human men ever since I started dating, and I didn't stop once my unique genetic heritage was revealed to me. At school, I met this cute Haitian guy named Jerome Henderson Pierre. He was tall and very sexy, with light brown skin, dreadlocked hair and pale brown eyes. He was a really cool guy and I enjoyed being with him. The only thing is that he's totally human and would freak out if he knew what I was, so I've had to keep certain secrets from him. I was so worried about my secrets being revealed to Jerome, that I never stopped to think about HIS secrets. One night, while I was hanging out with my girlfriend Stacey at this club in downtown T.O. I saw my boyfriend Jerome making out with a short Chinese broad whom I recognized, Eileen Chang, from my psych class. How about that? My man was two-timing me with one of my classmates. Jerome looked up and saw me, and immediately he shrank from Eileen, saying that this wasn't what it looked like. I walked up to Jerome, smacked the living daylights out of him, and left the club, with my laughing girlfriend Stacey in tow. That was the end of my relationship with Jerome. I can't stand cheating bastards.

Even though he hurt me with his cheating and I had no desire to go back to him, I missed Jerome terribly. It's weird, I know. I decided to focus on school and work because I didn't want to think about him. That's why I loved wolfing out. Whenever I wolfed out, I felt wild and free, and all my worries went away. One night, I went to wooded Trenton in rural Ontario to let my wolf out, and heard a howl that set my teeth on edge. There was another wolf out there. I could smell its scent, and it was no ordinary wolf. Werewolves are identical to ordinary wolves when we wolf out but we smell different. Ordinary wolves can smell the difference and they stay away from us. Our two species don't like each other. I could smell another werewolf nearby, and everything in me advised extreme caution.

As I went prowling after some deer, I caught another scent. Human, and there were several of them. Men with guns. Great. I decided to turn back, since men with guns can be hazardous to a werewolf's health. As I turned to leave, a shot rang out and the tree next to me nearly exploded. Someone was shooting at me! I ran, and I could hear men shouting and chasing after me. Normally, guys with guns are no match for a werewolf in speed, especially at night. These guys had hunting dogs with them, I counted three Doberman and five German shepherds, with two pit bulls for good measure. Hot damn. How in hell was I going to get out of this? They chased me to a clearing, and I made the dumb mistake of going into their little trap. I found myself surrounded by angry dogs whose gun-toting masters weren't far behind.

I was trapped, and I knew it. Only a miracle would get me out of there. As the dogs closed in, I bared my fangs. I wouldn't go down easily, I swore to myself. As the biggest Doberman got ready to spring for my throat, something leapt and placed itself between it and me. A massive shaggy black wolf, one that was more than twice my size, leapt at the Doberman. In an instant the Doberman lay on the ground, its throat cut. The big black wolf glared at the remaining dogs, howling a challenge. The dogs backed down into submissive postures. The big black wolf looked at me and wordlessly sent me a command. Flee, he said, directly into my mind, the way us werewolves communicate whenever we're in our transformed state. I looked at him, reluctant to leave him to face so many foes. Flee, he said, and this time I obeyed.

I took off, and this time, I ran for good. Moments later, I heard a single shot ring out. A shudder passed through me. Whoever my savior was, he was dead. I ran and ran until first light, and returned to human form. I caught a bus back to Toronto, weeping the entire time. One of us was dead, and that's always a sad event. Worldwide, maybe there are a hundred thousand of us spread over all the different countries on the planet. That's not a lot, considering there are seven billion people on Earth. When I went home, I found out that I had a lot of messages on my home phone. Seven of them were from Jerome. What did his cheating ass want now? I listened to them one at a time, and broke down when I heard the last one. Jerome stated that he would never cheat on me, that the Asian chick at the club came onto him and if I'd let him explain, he'd have made sure I understood that, among other things. Why is this guy still on my case? We're over! Besides, he was different from me and could never understand what made me what I am.

I found my mother sitting on the couch, watching TV. At her age, she could wolf out whenever she wanted, and could quiet down the urge for an entire cycle if she wanted to. I lacked her experience and strength, so I couldn't do that...yet. That's why I had to wolf out whenever the urge took me. I sat down next to mama, and thought about how best to tell her what happened last night in the woods of Trenton, Ontario. Before I could open my mouth, mom smiled at me and told me that my boyfriend had come by last night. I rolled my eyes at mom. I'd only told her about Jerome, I never let the two of them meet. I'll only introduce "the one" to my family and Jerome sure as hell wasn't the one. Mom grabbed my hand and looked at me with more excitement than I've ever seen in her eyes. Smiling still, she told me that Jerome had come by to apologize for his behavior. I rolled my eyes again and asked her why she bothered to let him in. mom grinned and told me that Jerome was one of us, and she always welcomed our kind. If lightning had struck me right then and there, I wouldn't have been more shocked.

I grabbed my mom's shoulders, and she stared at me blankly. Jerome was one of us? My lying, cheating ex-boyfriend was a werewolf? Mom smiled and told me that a lot of male werewolves were late bloomers so their scent was very faint while in human form, but an experienced wolf-woman like her could definitely smell them when she met them. Mom gently removed my hands from her shoulders, and told me that Jerome seemed like a nice young man. Maybe I should hear what he had to say, those were mom's words. As the truth of all that sank in, I told my mom about last night's events. When I finished telling her my story, mom went pale. I stared at her. What's going on? I thought mom was concerned for me but surely she could see that I was okay, right?

My mom's eyes darkened, and she sighed. I grabbed her hand and asked her what was wrong. Mom sighed, and told me that last night, as she spoke to Jerome, she might have mentioned to him that rural Trenton, Ontario, was one of my choice hangouts as far as wolfing out went. My eyes widened in shock. That's when it hit me. Jerome went out to Trenton last night looking for me. He was the big black wolf who defended me from the hunters and their dogs. I began to tremble, and a cold shiver went through me. Jerome went out looking for me and he saved my life, AFTER I told him to go to hell. I stood by and let someone I love die. I would never forgive myself for such a grievous mistake.

The doorbell rang, and it startled both my mother and myself. We let it ring, since neither of us was in the mood to entertain visitors. Finally, as the interloper kept hitting the buzzer, I went to see who it was...and nearly fainted when I saw Jerome standing there, looking very much alive, though his right arm was in a sling. Jerome! I exclaimed as I embraced him tightly. I looked at this ruggedly handsome bozo whom I loved so much with tears in my eyes. He was alive! Jerome's alive, mom! I shouted. Mom came, and found the two of us kissing passionately. Later, Jerome would tell us how he got injured while fighting off the hunting dogs. He was tearing them apart like only an enraged male werewolf could, that's when a gunshot rang out and he got hit in the shoulder. He took off, and was able to get away. A trucker gave him a lift back to Toronto, and he went to get himself patched up. Once that was taken care of, he came to see me.

As I looked at the handsome wolf-man who saved my life, I felt nothing but love for him. Generally speaking, us werewolves are an atheist bunch since most human religions view the so-called supernatural as evil. However, I thanked whatever power out there saved Jerome from danger and brought him to my arms. I asked him why he didn't just tell me he was one of us when he met me. Jerome smiled sheepishly and told me that for the most part, he didn't date his own kind because apparently wolf-women were too loud, bossy and intense. I playfully tapped his shoulder when he said that and he winced in pain. Jerome stroked my chin and told me that he felt drawn to me, in spite of himself. I grinned. Of course he couldn't stay away from me. I'm a hot bitch and I got it like that. Jerome grinned and I leaned to kiss him. I heard my mom chuckle in the background as she left for work, telling the two of us to get a room. I smiled mischievously at Jerome. Let's go have some fun upstairs, I said. Jerome smiled wolfishly. Yes ma'am, he said.

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