This was insufferable, and that idea was always on my mind: find another job that was better enough and had nothing to do with what I was doing. Although he probably would have found another job easily enough, he wasn't skilled enough to land something he wasn't already doing. And that was defending against punctures in the bars. Also, the waitressing job gave me a good schedule, the tips were awesome to help save for school, and at the end of the day, I had to think about my future and where I was headed.

So here she was, five, sometimes six days a week, waitressing from six at night to two in the morning. Yes, work like this was clearly tiring, but I had been doing it for a long time, probably habit made the shit that this work represented more bearable. And soon the daily work would begin. I could already see some ``characters'' who were on the premises.

"Hello darling".

I put on my tight-lipped, but still friendly, smirk to set the sixth beer down in front of Jake, a Foresta's regular. He was an older man with an angular face, a long, graying, not-too-manicured beard, and sported a long beer belly that hung over his pants because yes, it was almost unmistakable that he'd had excessively drunk too much in the past... and still he persisted with it in the present.

But I put up with it because even though he liked to throw sick and endearment words, he never tried to get over me or touch me, he didn't touch my butt or "adjust" my name tag, which was just above my left breast. He was just hanging around, like one of those creepy old perverts who had nothing to do with their time but gobble down beers as he watched the girls barely drinking age walk in.

"Let me know if you need anything else," I said, but I didn't wait for him to reply, I just turned and headed for my tables, not staying too long at them, especially since it was very clear the guys had too much to drink and he had little or no self-control.

I was at the bar when I heard the loud conversation of the new customers who had just arrived at the place. I didn't have to turn around to know they were young guys, teenagers, probably already drunk from partying, going from bar to bar. But when I looked over my shoulder, it was to confirm what I already knew, and then I groaned, because of course they had chosen a high ceiling at my station.

"Thank you, Alex," I murmured as the bartender placed my drink order on my tray. She had the look of riding hard and enduring the bullshit around her, as if he'd lived a hard life in the city, but still survived. He saw too much with his dark gray eyes, but he had a warm smile and a smart mouth when he disrespected any of us.

``Good luck with that cute group.´´

I gave him a pained, grateful smile, and placed my last order on the table of twenty-somethings celebrating a bachelorette party. I made my way to take the drink order from the obnoxiously rowdy group of guys. I would have to be on top of my game with this group, because I could already smell the liquor coming off of them before I even got to the table. Yeah, bar hopping for sure.

``Good night, boys. What can I start with tonight? Maybe a couple of baskets of breadsticks to soak up the alcohol churning in his bloodstream?'' I put on my trademark fake smile and looked each one of them in the eye, something I forced myself to do when I was feeling a little sluggish. little out of place with drunks. It was a silent way of showing them that he was stronger than he seemed.

They all had that glassy look in their red, bloodshot eyes, a sheen of sweat on their foreheads, and their polo shirts and button-down shirts were wrinkled and askew, as if they'd been pulling and adjusting them all night, they were enveloped in a haze of drunk.

"A round of Irish car bombs."

I looked at the one who ordered. His voice rang out and I forced myself not to wince strangely as it rang in my ears. I had a feeling he would be the one to give me the worst in this fucking order as the night wore on. I called it my drunken sixth sense. And I was usually pretty spot on when it came to these matters.

"Consider it done. Do you want anything else?"

The guy he ordered smiled in such a way that he told me he was thinking of something totally obscene and disgusting that obviously had to do with me. I curled my lip and tried not to roll my eyes. "I'll take your drinks." I turned on my heel but felt them looking at my behind, as if their eyes were fingers reaching out and stroking me. I suppressed a shudder and leaned against the counter after placing my order with Alex. I absently and unnoticed glanced at the clock on the wall, grateful that the night was winding down and passing faster than usual, with only a few more hours left to finish my shift.

"Here you go, doll."

I gave Alex a grateful smile and carried the tray to the table, set down his drinks and mumbled "Enjoy it" but just as I was turning to leave, I felt a thick palm slam into my behind with such force that it unnerved me. completely. That feeling moved up my back and wrapped around my throat. It didn't feel good at all.

I slowly turned around, the one who touched me was grinning from ear to ear as he looked at his friends, the other three were smiling and almost patting each other on the back, almost trying to say to each other "Excellent friend, good job".

“Hey, how about you hang out with us after your shift?” He leaned forward, his warm, yeasty breath wafting over me and making my stomach turn. He didn't wait for me to respond before he extended his hand. as if he was about to wrap a hand around my wrist and pull me closer.

I didn't see myself doing it, didn't even realize he'd done it until I had his wrist in my hand and squeezed as hard as I could. He wasn't strong by any means, but I felt a pang of pleasure from his grimace and the way he jerked free, but it was also clear that he didn't want to look like a fagot in front of his friends. This was going to turn into something bad for everyone, especially me.

"Hey, keep your fucking slimy hands to yourself before I go behind the bar, take the hammer that's kept there for such occasions and use it against your fingers." It was all barking and no biting, because he could never bear to do something that violent, but this little piece of jerk didn't need to know that. I also had no idea if there was a hammer back there, probably not even a knife, but the threat sounded good in my head, so I told him like that.

I looked into his eyes and made sure he could see all the pure poison and fire seeping from every single pore in my body, made sure he could feel how serious I was right now. I was at the end of my rope tonight, and him putting his hands on me had pushed me over the edge.

“Damn stupid crazy bitch,” he complained, his friends muttering similar “sweethearts,” but they left, angrily throwing cash on the table to pay for their drinks and nearly tripping out of the bar. What a damn stupid, after all they were young immature and drunk.

I felt the customers staring at me, but they'd had enough, so exhausted from this shit and feeling like I was on my last legs. I grabbed the money and headed for the bar, not looking at anyone or anything, my attention firmly planted on my feet.

"Enid, can I come to my office for a moment?"

I gritted my teeth as Rikard called out to me and I narrowed my eyes at him. He didn't bother to wait for her to answer before turning and walking to the back.

I placed my tray on top of the counter, and Alex gave me an understanding smile.

“Rita, can you watch my tables for a minute?” He asked the other waitress, and she nodded and waved before moving on to her new customer.

With a frustrated exhale and hoping to get this shit over with, I headed for Rikard's office. He was already sitting behind his cheap desk, acting like a king who was at court with me.

"He close the door please."

My fingers tightened in my palm before loosening and I did what I was sure to do, because God doesn't want me to.

For a second I stood there by the door, the little bit of space between him and me not far enough for my liking. He stared at me with his dark eyes that always seemed bloodshot, as if he'd been inhaling shots here just to deal with life.

"We need to talk about something; your attitude," he finally said, and I felt my mouth go slack. As if legitimate, my lips parted, and I felt my jaw drop at what he had just said.

I shook my head slowly, blinked a few times, and finally asked, "Ehh…excuse me?"

He leaned back in his chair, the fake leather making a sickening creak as his weight settled further.

“With clients, that's what I mean. You have an unpleasant attitude towards them. "

I opened and closed my mouth. Then I repeated the action, because I was really speechless.

"I saw how you spoke to that young man who just entered with his group of friends." She clasped her hands over her protruding belly and drummed her fingers.

Slowly my shock gave way to annoyance, then anger. I felt him bubble up, so sick and tired of this shit. My cup is running over the brim.

"Oh, you mean the stop with the four jerks who said disgusting things to me?" I crossed my arms over his chest and dared to take a step toward Rikard.

"You mean the idiot who sexually assaulted me and put his hands on my body without my consent?" I took another step forward and felt my anger contort my face. I saw Rikard's eyes light up slightly, and then he shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable with this side of me. "Those customers, Rikard?" She was a woman taking control and I was finally done with the fucking shit that men threw at her on a daily basis. Yes, that was me at the time.

Seriously, I was very upset. It seemed that my boss, as a whole macho person, was on the side of the idiots with whom I had a problem. I stared at him for a moment, he was a man with a horrible expression, and what accentuated his appearance in a bad way was the reddishness that made his eyes, he looked like a demon that had come from hell itself. But really the one who felt all the attitude of a devil was me at that moment, the vein in my temple almost exploded from all the rage I had, how is it possible that I am on the side of those stupids if I just saw everything ? Everything was clear, two options were being considered at the table: Either he was the most macho guy in the world or stupid that if he could have had the opportunity he would have done the same to me. I made a small face, making fun of how stupid my boss looked, trying to explain that the situation he saw outside was my fault or something. For a moment I turned around from how upset I was, he immediately replied.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" He said he in a contemptible tone of voice. I immediately realized that the door was poorly closed. A very perceptible excuse, but the fool he had as a boss was not going to notice, but what he did notice is some stupid men barely out of their teens, drunk and with less manners than a pig in a box. pigsty, of course, he saw that very well.

"I saw that the door is ajar, I'm just going to close it" I closed the door, and released it with a pose of total mockery towards the jerk who was there. He got angrier, but I don't think that even for that reason his anger surpassed the rage that ran through my veins. He suddenly began to look at me and I realized that he was not going to be lenient with me, his gaze was very penetrating, the direction of his eyes from time to time went up and down, and he believed that I didn't realize it. He was a total pig and jerk. My anger grew by every second that he was in that office.

His dark bushy brows were lowered, and she stood up, walking around his desk before leaning against him. He crossed his arms over his chest, a very rude position, perhaps to appear intimidating to me, but in reality he seemed like just a jerk, just like the jerks who wanted to go overboard with me just now. Yeah, he was a complete jerk.

"You can't talk to customers like that, this is a serious establishment, can you imagine someone finding out about these types of incidents? I wouldn't want any of those guys to go and tell someone about what happened," he said in a in such a despot manner and without consideration towards me, didn't he realize everything?

I mocked and shook my head, all the nonsense that this guy was spitting out of his mouth couldn't be possible "Wait a minute, Rikard, are you serious now? Are you going to side with those stupid people? Evaluate the situation for a moment, Is it okay to come here and work among these idiots, let them touch me, and I'm the one you're telling to follow the rules?" I shook my head, knowing that the professional relationship between me and Foresta, or rather, the relationship work between me and Rikard had come to an end. And the truth was that I didn't give a shit, it was a job where there was a lot of abuse from clients, I was good at the functions I had there, but the place sucked at what I did. regards clientele.

She was tired of this shit, and Rikard too. He acted like he was the nice guy, but in reality behind that clean-cut image was a slimy pervert who tried to manipulate anyone he came in contact with. And if he could take advantage of that he did it immediately.

"You are exaggerating and taking this out of context" He replied, as if what I said was something extreme and out of place, the only out of place was himself

I felt my eyes swell at his sleazy voice, as if I really believed the shit that had just come out of his stinking mouth and filthy pervert lips. I took off my apron and threw it at him aggressively, the heavy cotton fabric smacking into his chest before he could even catch it. It was very liberating to resign, to unload all that bad energy accumulated with your boss, the idiot felt great, rather, my ex-boss.

"Yes, well, the truth, everything that has happened and the reaction you've had doesn't surprise me. That you defended the imbeciles that annoy us day after day. A predator stays with his own, right?" He narrowed his eyes and pushed away from the desk. "Fuck this place, fuck these customers and above all" I took a deep breath to make what I was going to say sound louder "Fuck you, Rikard." I turned around and walked out of that stupid bar, I kinda hated leaving Rita alone for the rest of the night and having to put up with all the stupid clientele that came regularly, I was mad at myself for not being stronger in many ways, but I had to start thinking about myself from now on. I felt from that moment, as if a force was growing inside me, I didn't care about drunk idiots, or Rikard's idiot, it was just that force inside me waking me up, as a sign of a sudden, but necessary change in my life. life.

I had to start worrying about what I wanted and what made me happy. That was the decision he had made. And on that path that I was walking on, it was not the direction in which I should go if I wanted to find happiness for myself.

Ciran

Everything was like a mirage. An illusion. Something you can see on the dark night, but you can't see well. You could be alive but not survive in the same way. You could breathe, bring oxygen to your lungs, feel your heart beating and blood running through your veins, but all that was only mechanical instinct, muscle memory ... something that had to work, because that's how nature tried. It was like a dark impulse of what is no longer alive, but that must follow the path of the gloom as punishment. An illusion. A mirage of a vaguely hostile life.

Then you could survive, but even though being a hollow corpse that walks around the world, knowing that you lacked the most important part of you. But that does not matter. At all. Just follow and continue, without looking back. Since there is no look in retrospect. This is the curse that looms above all who is a lycan.

And that is what all the creatures of the other world felt when they did not have their partner destined. Something that they needed, to be able to continue in that gloom of darkness.

I distracted the slow circles around my sternum. The older it was, the more I felt that loneliness, that missing piece of myself that made me the living dead. Like the small hands of a clock, which helps to give time to the large hands. I was the big hands, very high with great force, so much that I could destroy someone just by hitting him. A dramatic comparison, but the truth was that it was a precise description.

And during the last two hundred and fifty years, he had not been living. I had taken one day at the same time, because I had responsibilities and obligations. Serve my king, train the guard and keep looking for her. Always for her. All I did was for my face without a face and without a name, totally unknown to me, the instinct of my inner animal told me to continue regardless of that.

And although I was loyal to Bartet, I would die for each of the Guardian soldiers, I would kill and mutilate to protect the royal family, my priority would always be to look for my wife. She was out there, maybe she was not yet alive, maybe she was born at a different moment, too far for me to find her, it hasn't even been too long.

Or maybe she was there, fragile and old already, after having lived a full and happy life, in love with someone else, with many children and grandchildren who surround her. It can be one of the possibilities

And although I get the idea of thinking about my wife with any other person, it was a reality, especially if she was human.

Wherever he was, whoever was, sustained my heart and soul in his hands and did not even realize. That was what my inner beast told me, howled inside for the need to find her, and I know that echo of that howl resonates in the distance.

I closed the door to the small minimalist cabin that I had called home for more than two centuries. Located in the highlands, still within the territory of the Lycan, close enough to get to Bartet or the royal family, could change and be there to protect and defend. But I stayed far enough, with a fair proximity, so that they could still revoline with my own loneliness, as a crust in which it was constantly collecting so that it would never heal. My wife's call was getting closer, my internal animal knew it.

My life could be much worse, I thought. I could have had a shit hand treated like my brother in arms, Odreant. I could have found my partner just to take it away from me. Thinking about seeing her, being close enough to touch her, but that brutally started it from me before I could do mine would be the most cruel punishment, a destination worse than death. Although he was already dead, but continuing to hover this world without her, knowing her already, it would be indescribable torture.

Yes, I could have had much worse. Destiny may not be on the side, but I didn't complain about what I had to happen.

I stayed there with the main door behind my back, the cabin spread in front of me, and once again I was surprised how naked and empty it was. I had enough comforts to keep me as good as someone could be, although with a partner I know it would be much better. I turned around and left, back from where I had come, heading for the side of the house, taking off my clothes while I was going and letting them fall where it was going through.

I didn't want to be locked between those four walls. I want to leave, let me run out of my inner beast, listen to the howls of other Lycan, and let that adrenaline be channeled throughout my body to drain that usequivable loneliness of the torture that meant being there without anyone to see. I didn't want to look at the fireplace and see the flames eat the trunks little by little while finishing a bottle of half empty whiskey. And that was becoming my typical night. It was increasingly monotonous. I thought very often about all the things I had to do, this burning sensation in my instinct that said I needed to find, to find it. It was the only need I had for a long time.

I was naked next to the tree line, closed my eyes and leaned back back, inhaling the crunchy autumn air. It was colder at this time of the year, the air was so icy that it clung to the skin and almost fulfilled the same function of the fire, almost burned by the cold, penetrated my flesh through my frozen fingers. He felt well in my overheated body, taking the sweat of the day but doing nothing to get rid of the restless energy inside me. That unstoppable power had to free him.

And although I knew that a race in my Lycan form would not help much either, it was better than the previous alternative.

I let my beast be seized from my body, to break my bones and tear my skin, realize everything until I dropped on all four legs, shaking the fur that covered my heavy shape. My inner animal was huge and incredibly powerful, as large as a damn Clydesdale horse, large enough to tear down anything that got in my way.

In my wolf body, things with more force and listened to everything, the perception increased supernaturally, my senses was at his stop. My vision was marked and precise, crystalline while taking the sound of insects in the distance, the aroma of another wolf running through the forest. I left, letting my front and rear legs cross the distance, my legs sank into the soft earth. I saw everywhere, I didn't care about absolutely nothing that I crossed on my path. I had become a beast.

I ran faster, jumping on fallen logs, throwing me around low -cost branches. I could see the brightness of the green moss that covered the rocks along the stream.

I could smell the aroma of the land that surrounds me. The highlands were full of life, and brought energy to my Lycan, rooted it in its inheritance and culture, made it one with Mother Nature.

We were a kind of earth, gaining strength from the moon, power of our environment. And so I comforted myself as I did during the last two and a half centuries and ran free. This feeling was only second to which I knew I would feel when I found my partner and experienced that linked connection.

I thought things could be worse, but turning those words in my head like a mantra did nothing to relieve pain in my soul.

I let myself run for so long that I will join. My bones hurt; My muscles protested. But I didn't care. I ran until I could run anymore, until I limited and dragged my body spent back to my cabin before collapsed and sleep. Because only then my dream would be without dreams, my mind and my body too exhausted to think, much less feel.

I caught his aroma before seeing it. I made a subtle change in my trajectory to go to the other Lycan. The more I was approaching, the more his aroma was clarified, as a firm recorded on his skin, a tattoo that would always let a world knows who it was.