Oliver's Forbidden Mate: MM Wolf

Shifter Romance (Ombra Pack

Chronicles Book 3) Blake R. Wolfe
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 Oliver's Forbidden Mate
Ombra Pack Chronicles Book #3

Blake R. Wolfe

UwU Publishing
 Copyright © 2023 Blake R. Wolfe

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not
intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

This book was produced without the use of AI Generated Content.

Cover design by: GetCovers

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America
 Introduction
Hello, reader, and welcome to book #3 of the Ombra Pack Chronicles! Now that you’ve read about
Parker’s journey and then Wyatt’s, I think it’s time we complete the trio by visiting Oliver.

Oliver is, by far, my favorite character in this series so far. He represents a few of the things that I
want to be and a more carefree attitude that I wish I had sometimes. That said, I have the most in
common with his mate, Charlie. We’ve been through many of the same experiences and know what
that side of the track is like. Needless to say, this book and its characters are very dear to me. I’ve
treated them with a lot of love, respect, and quite a bit of spice, so I know you’re going to love it!

Come join my newsletter for a free copy of Alpha’s Awakening and new release announcements by
clicking here!

Without further ado, let’s get on with the show!

 One: Oliver

There was only one thing better than walking through an autumn forest after a rainstorm. That was
running through it on four legs, the wind streaming through my fur.
And that’s exactly what I was doing.
I’d left my clothes and shoes back at the edge of the forest, tucked in a small, protected cubby Parker
had built for just such an occasion. Thanks to him and joining his Ombra Pack, I didn’t have to worry
about running into humans while I was shifted. Ludington wasn’t known for having a thriving wolf
population, and people tended to react poorly to the sight of me. However, I had an easier time than
most getting away with it, thanks to my coloration. Looking like a Timber Wolf had its perks.
I was glad to have a place to run without worry. Leaving the old pack and joining Parker’s was easily
the best decision I’d ever made. Not that the old pack was bad to me, per se, but they definitely
weren’t super supportive. Being gay left me on the outskirts of the pack to begin with. But then my
family was also nobody, so that practically made me invisible. So when I transferred to another pack,
nobody in leadership blinked an eye. They just stamped the papers and sent me on my way.
The only person who threw a fit was my mother.
Guilt. Trip. City.
Let me tell you, that woman could put a catholic to shame. She had this incredible habit of making me
feel bad for nearly everything. Or at least she used to. Nowadays, I was so numb to her constant
nagging that I barely even noticed. But she had made quite a stink when I left the pack.
But I didn’t let that stop me. Parker and Wyatt had been my chosen family since I was a pup. Then,
when I was ten, my father died, and my mom slipped into a deep depression that lasted years. Not that
I blamed her for it, but it had been pretty lonely growing up by myself. That’s why I spent so much
time with the other two, especially Parker. I practically lived at his house all through middle and high
school. We got into a lot of trouble together and grew closer than I thought possible.
And when we both came out as gay, all bets were off. Everyone, including Wyatt, thought we’d end up
together. Even I thought about that for a while. But as time passed, we slowly realized we weren’t
mates. We loved each other, but not in the way both of us were searching for. Still, those were some
of the best years of my life, and Parker would always have a special place in my heart.
However, life goes on. Parker moved away, and I had to make my own way in the world.
I just wished I had someone to share it with.
Bursting through the edge of the forest, my paws struck sand instead of leaves, kicking it up behind me
as I headed for the shore. My jaw hung open as I panted, the crisp air filling my lungs over and over
again. At the last moment, I skidded to a stop, the wet sand taking the impression of my large paws
perfectly.
Lifting my head, I stared out over the inland sea in front of me. Lake Michigan never ceased to amaze
me. The skies were gray, low dark clouds stretching to the horizon as it threatened to rain once more.
The wind picked up, rustling my fur and driving five-foot waves against the shore, where they
crashed and roared. I closed my eyes, letting my other senses take in the scene around me.
The scent of rain was thick on the wind, followed closely by warm water and fish. The lake had yet to
cool completely, and its warmth was what drove these storms so late in the season. Underneath it all,
I could just make out the scent of wet fallen leaves and the petrichor left by the recent rain.
Altogether, it created a scent that I could only describe as autumn. Candle stores would have you
believe the season smelled of cinnamon and sweets, but I knew better. Autumn smelled like compost
and rain, with a sharp chill that heralded the coming of winter.
It was my favorite smell in the entire world.
And, unfortunately, I didn’t have long to enjoy it. Even though I’d managed to get up extra early for a
morning run, the gym was still expecting me by nine. Today was my first day as their on-staff trainer, a
job I’d been trying to get for the past two years. Thanks to perseverance, some good interview advice
from Wyatt, and a dose of confidence from Parker, I’d landed it at last. Today was mostly orientation
and paperwork, but tomorrow, I’d take on my first clients, and I couldn’t wait to get started. Helping
people find their confidence and health through exercise was my passion, and working for the biggest
gym in town made it a lot easier to make a living off of it.
Taking one last look at the lake, I turned my tail to the wind and sprinted back toward the gold-draped
woods. The forest floor was a cacophony of color, and I slipped my way through it as I pushed myself
harder and harder, trying to break my own record to make it back to the other side. Of course, being a
wolf made it hard to keep accurate time, but I had a fair idea of how fast I was going.
I made it back quicker than I thought possible. At the last moment, I leaped into the air, shifting and
landing on my bare feet as I skidded through the mud and fallen leaves. As a wolf, I couldn’t sweat,
but the moment I turned back into a human, my entire body was drenched. I stood there at the edge of
the forest, buck naked, panting like I’d just sprinted an entire marathon. Endorphins rushed through my
system, and I couldn’t help but smile. The runner’s high wasn’t something the wolf part of me really
experienced, but the rush once I shifted back nearly knocked me off my feet.
Grabbing a nearby tree to steady myself, I let my chest heave, gulping in lungfuls of air so the oxygen
made its way to my muscles. I closed my eyes, feeling the rough bark under my fingers and the chill
seep into the sweat covering my body. Everything was right and good in the world.
After a few moments, I pulled my clothes out of the cubby along with a towel I kept for just such
occasions. Giving myself a quick wipe down, I pulled on my clothes and shoes before heading back
across the yard for the driveway. A glance told me that Parker and Aiden were still asleep, the
windows dark. However, as I looked the other way, I noticed a light coming from the barn. It was
Aiden’s studio window, which meant he was busy painting. Whether he’d been up all night or up
before dawn, I didn’t know. But I’d have to save socializing for another day.
As I approached my car, I wondered if Parker knew just how lucky he was. I wasn’t jealous of Aiden
or anything like that, but I couldn’t help a tiny pang of envy. Parker wasn’t my mate that I’d come to
terms with years ago.
However, I’d spent countless nights on my apartment balcony staring up at the stars, wondering when
my mate would finally come along. Sure, hookups were fun, and I’d had more than my fair share of
them in the gym showers in the past few years. But they just weren’t doing it for me anymore. I was
tired of the connection only lasting as long as it took to cum. After that, they just became strangers in a
crowd, the both of us walking away without even knowing one another’s names.
I longed for something special. Something that meant more. Maybe it was cliche, and maybe I’d
watched far too many Hallmark movies, but it was what I wanted. And it wasn’t silly to want it,
right? After all, both Parker and Wyatt had found their mates, and both of them were insanely happy.
When was it going to be my turn?
 Two: Charlie

If I never saw a man again in my life, I would die happy.

And yet, I still caught myself ogling the hunky movers as they carried furniture up to my second-floor
apartment. Their muscles bulged with each lift and pivot, their husky voices grunting as they hefted
my heavy couch up the tight stairwell. It was enough to get the long-dead teenager in me all hot and
bothered before I even had a moment to form a coherent thought.
But then I looked down at the heavy banker’s box held in my hands. It was full of papers from my old
life. Bills, taxes, random bank statements, and, of course, my divorce papers.
“Good fucking riddance,” I muttered under my breath as I hiked up the stairs behind the movers.
“What’s that?” one of them said, glancing back at me. “What did you say?”
I shook my head. “Oh… I just said to drop that in the main room there,” I replied, covering up my
habit of talking to myself. “You can just push it up against a wall or something so it’s out of the way.”
“Right.”
“In fact,” I added, glancing back at the truck. “Just put everything in the main room except the bed.” I
felt my shoulders tense as I looked at the mostly empty truck. “Not like I got to keep much anyway…”
The mover gave me a somewhat pitiful look, which just made me feel worse. For the past few
months, I’d been having the grandest of all pity parties for myself. Not that I didn’t have a reason.
When your husband comes home one day and says, ‘Hey, I don’t love you anymore, and by the way,
I’m dating my barista now,’ it doesn’t leave you with an overwhelming sense of confidence.
At first, I tried to shoulder my trauma like a champ, pretending it didn’t bother me and that I was so
much happier than I’d ever been. But after a while, my false bravado faded away, and all I was left
with was a stack of papers, an ink pen, and a lawyer who didn’t give two shits about me. And now I
was moving into a one-bedroom apartment by myself in a nowhere city that I’d chosen by throwing
darts at a map.
No. That wasn’t a joke. I actually threw a dart at a map. I’d grown up in southern Tennessee, so
moving to Michigan definitely wasn’t on my to-do list. However, there was no way I could stay in
that town anymore. People knew who I was; they knew my husband, and he’d done his homework.
Long before he told me he wanted a divorce, he started planting little lies in people’s heads to get
them to feel bad for him and make me the bad guy. Even my own mother asked me what I’d done to
him to make him so upset.
And that was the last straw.
That day, I bought a map, hung it up on the wall, and threw darts at it until one stuck. To my surprise,
it landed on a little town called Ludington, MI. I didn’t even research the city before I called up six or
seven apartment complexes and took the first one that had an opening. Within a week, there were
moving men at my mom’s house packing up the remainder of my belongings. I barely even gave her a
warning I was going. She always liked my ex-husband better anyway.
Maybe it was childish. Maybe it was a stupid move to leave my job and everyone I knew behind. But
I didn’t care. I needed a hard reset in my life if I wanted to survive the crushing weight of failure on
my shoulders. I was only twenty-four, and I already had a failed marriage under my belt. Talk about
being an overachiever.
The moving men dumped my couch in the small living room, pushing it up against the far wall. I
stepped aside to let them back out and dropped my box on the ground. Taking one glance at the tiny
galley kitchen and the pathetically thin brown carpet, I flopped onto the couch and draped my arm
over my eyes.
“Home sweet home,” I murmured sarcastically.
The place smelled like carpet cleaner and fresh paint, but underneath, I could pick out the years of
cigarette smoke that had seeped into the walls. Downstairs the neighbor’s television played too
loudly, and in the parking lot, I could hear the constant thudding of some asshole’s subwoofers in the
back of his car.
Living here was going to take some getting used to. Up until that moment, I’d always lived in a house.
My ex had been gifted a house right out of high school by his parents, and I’d moved in with him only
a few months after we started dating. I’d somehow managed to completely skip the apartment section
of my life… or… well, I guess it just took me longer to get there than some.
A half hour slowly ticked by as I listened to the sounds of the movers going up and down the stairs.
They dropped my meager belongings into the living room and took my heavy mattress to the bedroom.
I wasn’t sure if I’d fallen asleep or just lost myself to my thoughts, but the clearing of a throat nearly
scared the life out of me.
“What?!” I gasped, bolting upright. “What’s wrong?!”
“Uh…” The two guys looked at one another. “We just wanted to let you know that we’re done.”
I sighed, running my hands through my ruffled dark hair. “Sorry,” I muttered, pushing myself up from
the couch. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately. Nightmares.”
“Sorry to hear that…” the guy replied, clearly uncomfortable with the amount of depression oozing
off me.
“Here,” I said, pushing myself up from the couch and taking out my wallet. I handed each of them a
fifty-dollar bill as a tip. “Thanks for all your help. I apologize for not helping you bring stuff in.”
“It’s no problem, sir,” he nodded, taking the cash. “That’s what we’re here for.” Both of them headed
for the door. “Enjoy your new home!” he added with a wave.
The door closed behind them, and I was left alone in the silence.
“Home…” I muttered. “Right…”
Time moved by slowly after that. For a while, I just sat on the couch staring at my phone,
doomscrolling through whatever stupid videos popped up on my feed. Even though several of them
were hilarious, I couldn’t force more than a half-assed smile. Eventually, my stomach’s grumblings
grew too loud for even me to ignore, so I ordered food from a Mexican restaurant down the street. I
figured the walk would do me some good.
Thanks to the divorce and comfort food, I’d put on more than a few pounds in the past few months.
Not that there was anything wrong with it. Dad bods were all the range according to everyone on
social media. But before, I had always been lean and strong, a product of several years of training
throughout high school and college to maintain my place on the swim team. I’d already come to the
conclusion that I needed to get back in the habit of taking care of myself, but I didn’t know if this new
town even had a gym. Sure, Lake Michigan was only a couple miles from my apartment, but there was
no fucking way I was going swimming in October. Besides… it probably had sharks in it or
something. A shark defying all odds in freshwater only to eat me would be just my luck.
Throwing on my favorite oversized hoodie, I marched out the door and down the street, heading to the
restaurant to pick up my order. I’d gone no more than two blocks when I found myself walking past
the front of a large, nice-looking gym.
It was like the universe had read my mind.
I stopped for a moment, peering through the windows at the rows and rows of treadmills and weight-
lifting equipment. There was a strange sense of longing in the pit of my stomach, harkening back to
simpler times. Spending evenings in the gym with my best friends in college was the peak of my
social life. To some, that sounded pathetic, but to me, it was no different than hanging out with friends
at a frat party or at homecoming. That’s just where we saw each other the most.
Not to mention, there were several excellent memories that took place in the showers after the
workout when endorphins were running high.
Fuck I missed having sex…
Before I even knew what I was doing, my hand was on the door, pulling it open. I stepped inside, and
before I could back out, one of the desk attendants called out to me.
“Hey there! Welcome!” he said, flashing me his most charming smile. “Thanks for coming back!”
I furrowed my brows. “I… I’ve never been here before.”
“Well then, welcome for the first time,” he replied, completely nonplussed. “Do you have a
membership with us, or are you just doing a drop-in today?”
“I’m not staying.”
The guy looked confused.
“I mean, I’m just checking the place out,” I corrected, shaking my head. “I just got done moving, and I
don’t know anything about the town.”
He nodded. “Well, you’ve chosen the right place. And I’m not just saying that because I work here.”
For some reason, I believed him. “This is probably the best gym in town. We’re not the cheapest, but
we’ve got a huge range of equipment, massage tables, a sauna, and we even have personal trainers on
staff if you’re looking for a more personalized touch.”
They really did have it all. “Uh… okay. Do you have like a flyer or something?”
“We do have pamphlets.” He handed one across the counter as I stepped up. “And we’re running a
special right now. For select new members, we’re offering four free sessions with our newest
personal trainer. He’s a local that’s been coming here for years.” The guy handed me a card to go with
my pamphlet. “But between you and me, he’s easily the best one we have on staff. The guy really
knows his stuff.”
I glanced down at the card with a bold name printed across the top.
Oliver Randall, CPT
“And he’s got one last opening tomorrow afternoon,” the clerk added. “You would be the final
member he takes on.”
“When did he start?”
“Today.”
Wow. The guy was popular. And so was the gym if they’d pulled in that many new members in a
single day. I glanced down at the card once more, the adrenaline building in my chest. Normal people
didn’t get excited about the prospect of working out all the time. But for me, it was a chance to
reclaim some normality in my otherwise tumultuous life.
“I’ll do it,” I heard myself say. “I’ll take the spot.”
 Three: Oliver

I’d been working my ass off since nine, and I still had energy to spare. At the rate I was going, I
wouldn’t even need to do my own workout after the day was done. Already, I had a full roster of
clients thanks to the overwhelming support of the gym, and a lot of them were beginners. Not that
there was anything wrong with that, but it meant there needed to be quite a bit of demonstration to
make sure they knew how to use proper form and minimize injuries. So far, all of them had been
thoroughly impressed with me, and all had signed up for a yearly membership to stay on my rotation.
Things were looking up already.
“Have a great rest of your day, Cheryl,” I called to the middle-aged woman I’d just got done working
with. “See you next week!”
“You too, cutie,” she called back, giving me a wink.
“Watch out for that one,” the guy behind the desk muttered as the door swung shut behind her. Mark
knew all the clients by heart. “She’s a cougar. I’m tellin’ ya.”
“Oh, you’re absolutely right,” I replied. “She stared at my ass the entire time. I’m fairly certain she
wanted to peg me into oblivion.”
Mark sputtered and coughed, my well-timed comment causing him to choke on his Gatorade.
“Oh my god,” he laughed, tears streaming down his face as he continued to cough. “I did not expect
that.”
“Most guys don’t,” I nodded. “It would have been a drive-by pegging, I guarantee it. You’d think she
wanted to worship you, but the moment you were cuffed to the bed, BAM, giant dildo.”
“This sounds like something that’s happened to you before…”
“Not me,” I chuckled. “I prefer the real thing. But I’ve heard stories.”
“From who?!”
“Oh, online and stuff. Nobody around here.” I glanced through the windows out toward the sun-
drenched parking lot. “Everyone here is way too boring for that.”
“I resent that.”
“Have you been pegged?”
“No—”
“See? Boring.”
Mark gave me a sassy look I was already too used to. He reminded me a bit of Parker and the way we
carried on sometimes. It was like meeting an old friend for the first time, and we could jump into
being weird without the song and dance. I had a feeling we were going to be good friends.
“So, who’s next on the client list?” I asked.
“Just one more,” he replied, flipping through his book. “Oh yeah. This is the new guy that wandered
in here last night. He said he was new in town and looking for a gym.” He glanced down at the sheet.
“Charles Hammond.”
“Another newbie?”
“Nah, this guy looked like he’d been around a gym before. He didn’t stare at the machines like they
were aliens. I sold him pretty well on signing up with you.”
“At the rate you’re going, I’m gonna need to work fourteen-hour days to keep up with all these
people.”
“Job security, bro.”
“Yeah, but I need to sleep once in a while too.”
“You’ll be out of here before five, don’t you worry.” He glanced down at the sheet again. “This guy
should be here—”
The bell over the door rang as it swung open, and we both looked up.
“Speak of the devil,” Mark said.
But I didn’t hear him.
Instead, I was completely mesmerized by this absolute angel standing in front of me in a baggy tank
top. He had short dark hair that he either kept messy or didn’t comb, but it complimented his stunning
blue eyes perfectly. My eyes traced over his smooth, pale skin, stopping momentarily on the clusters
of freckles on his shoulders.
I could see the athlete in him almost immediately. He was tall and lithe, more of a swimmer's build
than anything. Although it looked like he’d been away from the gym for a while, I could still make out
the years of hard work he’d put into his body. He looked as if he’d put on maybe ten or fifteen pounds
since then, but I thought he was gorgeous.
And that wasn’t all. The moment he stepped inside, I was hit with a wave of his scent. I could tell the
midday heat made him sweat a little, and there was the smell of anxiety about him. But that was
completely washed away by the warmth of cinnamon and honey that practically dripped off his body.
Already, I could feel my mouth watering and my underwear growing tighter.
I shook myself out of it at last, realizing I’d been staring with my jaw practically hanging open.
Stepping up to him, I held out my hand.
“Hi,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. “I’m Oliver. You must be Charles.”
“It’s Charlie,” he replied, taking my hand. He didn’t seem to notice my gawking, thankfully. “Nice to
meet you.”
The moment our hands connected, the world around us fell away, and a pulse of electricity jolted
through my body.
Mate.
Oh fuck.
“Oliver?”
I shook my head again, looking up at Mark, who’d just spoken. “Sorry. What’s up?”
He gestured toward Charlie. “You wanna give the man his hand back?”
I glanced down, realizing I was still holding it. “So sorry,” I said, practically yanking it away. “I
apologize. It’s been a long first day here in the gym. I spaced out for a second.”
“Should we reschedule?”
“No!” I practically shouted. I paused for a moment to clear my throat. “No. I’m good. Why don’t you
grab a locker and put your stuff away? I’ll be out here waiting for you when you’re ready. Sound
good?”
“Sure.”
With that, he walked off toward the locker room, his shoulders hunched.
“There’s a story there,” muttered.
I gave him a sideways glance. “What do you mean?”
“Look at the way he carries himself. That guy oozes depression.” He clicked his tongue. “I feel bad
for him. Something awful must have happened.”
“Is this like some sixth sense you have or something?”
Mark lifted his gaze to mine, his eyes flashing violet for a brief second. “Don’t think you’re the only
one here with secrets, Oliver.”
I felt my heart rate quicken, the flash in his eyes unmistakable. For a brief moment, I caught the scent
of magic in the air. But no sooner had I taken a breath than it disappeared.
“You’re a witch…” I muttered.
“And you’re a wolf,” he said with a smile.
“Should I be worried?” I asked.
I’d never met a witch before, but I’d heard stories. Some of them were good, some bad, just like
everyone else. But they were the only species that could completely hide from everyone else. The
glamours they cast covered up not only their looks but their smell as well, making them almost
impossible to spot. Mark had revealed himself to me. Otherwise, I might never have known.
“No more worried than most people, I suppose.”
I studied him for a moment. “Are you the reason I got this job?”
He smiled. “What can I say? I was tired of being the only fun person at work. Having you around
makes things a lot more interesting.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Why the hell are you working at a gym? You could just sell miracles or
read tarot or something and make more money.”
“And you could have just joined the military or gotten good at sports, but here we are.”
“Touche.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Oliver,” he said with a dismissing wave. “Now go take care of
your client. That guy’s gonna need all the help he can get.” He gave me one last look. “And I don’t
mean with working out. He needs some healing.”
“I’m a personal trainer,” I replied. “Not a doctor.”
He gave me a sly smile. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. People like you because you make them feel
good. Now go work your magic on that boy.”
“We’re gonna talk more about this later?”
“Oh, most definitely. I want to hear how your new pack is shaping up.”
“I need to clear that with our Alpha first.”
“I’ll send Parker a letter today.”
I couldn’t help but sigh. “This is weird, Mark. You made it weird.”
“Will you please go take care of your client and stop being such a worry wolf?”
As I started to walk away, I heard him singing under his breath.
“I see a bad moon a-risin’…”
I rounded on him, pointing a finger in his direction. “I swear to god, Mark.”
He laughed. “Go on, pup!”
Rolling my eyes, I headed toward the locker rooms to collect my new client. This new job sure was
shaping up to be an adventure.
 Four: Charlie

I regretted not canceling my session before I was even fully changed. Not only was I exhausted
thanks to another sleepless night, but I’d forgotten how incredibly embarrassing it was to use a locker
room around a bunch of strangers. To say I was self-conscious was the understatement of the year. At
home, I could just avoid mirrors, but the locker room was full of them. Not only that, but I had to
watch all the hunky dudes wander around with their paper-thin towels barely held up by their dicks as
they showed off the superfluous amount of muscle they had. I already knew I qualified as a twink, but
now I felt like a fat twink. A twinkie, if you will. And I didn’t like it.
“Another spiral…” I muttered as I pulled on my gym shorts as fast as possible.
Going to the gym was the last thing I actually wanted to do. But I knew I needed it. Not only because I
wanted to shed a few pounds but because the movement would be good for me and it might lift my
mood a bit. Working out always gave me that ‘runner’s high’ everyone liked to talk about. Thankfully,
you didn’t have to run to get it. You just had to work yourself to the point of exhaustion. Maybe if I did
that, I’d get a break from the constantly nagging voice inside my head.
That would be more than enough compensation for the effort.
I quickly tucked my things into my locker and snapped on the lock before heading back out into the
main part of the gym. The entire place smelled like sweat, cleaner, and rubber flooring. The moment it
hit my nostrils, I was taken back to college. But when I opened my eyes once more, I found myself
alone with a bunch of strangers.
And there was Oliver, heading in my direction.
Fuck he was hot.
“You ready to get started?” he asked, his silver eyes sparkling. He reached up and brushed his dark
hair to the side, his arm flexing to show off every single muscle he’d trained to perfection. “I can
show you around if you like. That way, you can get familiar with the equipment.”
I wanted to get familiar with his equipment.
“Uh… yeah,” I sputtered, shaking myself out of it. “Yeah, that would be good.”
Get a hold of yourself, you unbelievable whore.
He smiled. “Follow me then.”
For the next ten minutes, I followed Oliver around the gym, pretending to be paying attention. Most of
the time, I was stealing glances at his ass, his chest, his arms, or the bulge in his shorts. Everything
about him was perfect. And each time he spoke to me, I had to pretend I had been paying attention.
I wasn’t doing a good job.
“So what are your goals?” he asked at last, finishing up the tour.
“Goals?”
“Yeah. What do you want to accomplish while you’re here?” He led me back toward the center of the
gym. “Some people want to lose weight. Some want to build strength. Some want to work on their
mindset.” He stopped, turning back toward me. “What do you want out of this?”
“I want to not feel like shit anymore.”
The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop myself.
Oliver didn’t seem phased. “That’s understandable.” He gestured for me to follow him toward one of
the meeting rooms at the far wall. “Would you be willing to talk with me about it?”
“I shouldn’t have said that,” I replied, feeling pretty embarrassed with myself. “I’m sure you don’t
want to hear my sob story anyway.”
He didn’t even blink. “I want to hear anything you have to say.”
I stared at him for a long moment. I wasn’t really sure why, but I knew he was telling the truth.
Nobody could fake being that genuine.
“Are… Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” He gave me a soft smile. “I’m not a doctor, but there’s a lot of things that being active
can help with. But if you’re dealing with something more emotional or mental, I want to make sure
I’m taking that into account. This isn’t about how I do things. I’m here to train you the way you need to
be trained. My whole approach will be customized to your needs.”
If he hadn’t been turning me on before with his body, he sure as fuck was now with his words. I
caught myself standing there, my jaw hanging up as I stared at him. Nobody had ever put me first like
that before.
I snapped my mouth shut and shook my head. I was being stupid. This guy was getting paid to be nice
to me. He didn’t really mean it. People weren’t nice for no reason. They always had ulterior motives.
I’d learned that one the hard way, and I wasn’t about to let anyone else in so they could stomp all over
me again.
“Look,” I sighed. “I’m not trying to be rude, but I don’t really want to spill my guts right now. Or ever,
really.”
Oliver nodded.
“I just want to work out and forget for a while, okay?”
The glimmer in those gray eyes told me he understood my meaning exactly.
“All right,” he replied. “I’ll work you until you drop then.”
“Great.”
“Twenty minutes on that treadmill,” he said, pointing off toward the bank of machines. “And I don’t
want to see you doing less than a jog. I can tell you’ve been athletic in the past, so if you’re not
sweating in the next two minutes, I will personally turn up your machine and run behind you if
necessary.”
I couldn’t help but smile at his sudden seriousness. It was cute.
“Get fucking moving,” he growled. “I’m not being funny.”
“Yes, sir,” I heard myself say, turning on my heel.
Shit. He was kinda scary. I hopped up on the machine and cranked it to five miles per hour, the belt
whirring into life below my feet. Running was my least favorite thing to do in the entire world, but I
didn’t want to share my darkest secrets with a stranger, so this was my punishment.
“And no bitching,” Oliver added, stepping up beside me. “I can already see it on your face that I
picked the last thing you wanted to do.” He walked around behind me, watching my body as I picked
up the pace. “After this, we’ll do a small circuit so I can get an idea of your breaking point. Then
we’ll finish with some yoga.”
“Yoga?!”
“Want to make it thirty minutes on that treadmill?”
“No,” I sighed, my muscles already burning. “Yoga’s fine.”
“Good.”
For the next twenty minutes, Oliver critiqued my jogging form. He noticed everything from the size of
my gait to the shape of my hands. Running had never been my strongest suit, so he quickly found a
laundry list of faults. However, with every correction, I found the act a little bit easier. Still, that
didn’t stop me from looking like a drowned rat by the time my twenty minutes were finally at an end.
“Go get some water and get back here. You’ve got five minutes,” Oliver commanded. “And next time,
make sure you bring a water bottle. We’re wasting time having you run back and forth.”
Fuck. This guy was a goddamn drill sergeant. He was nice and good to look at, but when he was
training, he took on a no-nonsense persona that was kind of intimidating. Not that I didn’t like being
bossed around a bit, but it definitely wasn’t something I had a lot of experience with. My ex was so
vanilla he didn’t even fuck me. He just lay there while I did all the work. It definitely left me itching
for something a little different.
I did as I was told, only taking enough time to catch my breath and get a drink. A couple of minutes
later, I was standing back in front of Oliver again like an obedient puppy. This time, he had a
clipboard and a pen, and he was impatiently tapping on the page.
“Good hustle,” he said with a smirk. “Today’s gonna be a little rough. We’re only going to do one set
on each machine, but I’m going to push you to failure to see what your limits are. We’re not skipping
any of the muscle groups.”
“Okay,” I nodded, ready for a little more torture. It was amazing how much I felt I needed to impress
this guy. “I’m ready.”
“I like the initiative. Come on.”
For the next thirty minutes, I followed Oliver around the gym as he subjected me to every kind of
weightlifting the gym had to offer. Each time, he started me much higher than I thought possible. And
more than a few times, it was all I could do just to finish one rep. He made no comment, only
scratched away on his clipboard and directed me to another machine. It was impossible to gauge if he
was impressed or not. He looked like he could probably pull twice as much as me on literally
everything. I was starting to feel really self-conscious when he finally called for me to stop.
“Alright,” he said, stepping up next to me as I heaved in great lungfuls of air. “When was the last time
you were at a gym?”
“I… don’t know…” I wheezed. “Maybe… like… three years ago… probably… just after….
college.”
“Well, for someone who has been out of the gym for that long, your results are really impressive.”
I don’t know why, but my heart swelled at his compliment. I was hanging on his every word like a
lovesick idiot.
God, I was pathetic.
“And for your build, you’re pretty strong. Your weights aren’t as high as regular lifters, but you have a
lot of stamina. That’s definitely something working in your favor. Depending on what you want to
accomplish, I’d say it won’t take us more than a couple of months to get you back where you used to
be.”
“I don’t want to be fat,” I heard myself say.
Oliver turned on me, his smile fading away. “First off, I don’t tolerate that kind of talk around here,”
he said, his tone firm and commanding. “You are in excellent condition, and you are most definitely
not fat. Secondly, if you want to trim up, that’s something we can work on, but I want you to rephrase
how you talk and think about it. If you tell yourself you’re fat, all you create is a negative thought
spiral. We’re here to make you feel better, not enforce bad habits.”
“S-Sorry,” I muttered, turning my gaze toward the floor.
He put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m not chastising you, and you're not in trouble. But I want you to
understand that getting fit or accomplishing any fitness goal is ninety percent mindset. If you just beat
yourself up all the time, it won’t matter how much weight you lose or muscle you put on. You’ll never
be happy. So we need to talk about things in a way that doesn’t make you a victim or create any self-
loathing.”
“That… makes sense, I guess.” I glanced up at him. “It doesn’t sound easy though.”
“It’s the hardest part.”
“Balls.”
Oliver laughed. “Balls indeed.” He took a deep breath, placing his hands on his hips. “Well, are you
ready for yoga now?”
I felt my shoulders drop. “Do we have to?”
“You just did every muscle group to failure and twenty minutes on a treadmill for the first time in
three years.” He raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t stretch after that, you’re going to hurt like hell
tomorrow.”
“I’m used to it.”
The moment the words left my lips, I felt embarrassed and slightly ashamed.
“Sorry,” I said, trying to save myself. “That was uncalled for.”
Oliver didn’t react. “You’re allowed to feel how you feel,” was all he said. “No judgment here. But
we’re doing yoga.”
I sighed, giving in only because I appreciated him not grilling me about the constant pity party I was
throwing for myself.
“Fine. Let’s go do your hippie workout.”
Oliver laughed at that. “Yoga is by far the hardest thing you’ll do here.”
I sighed again. “Great. I’m thrilled about that.”
 Five: Oliver

I left the gym that night with a spring in my step and a brain full of mush. Not only had I spent all day
working with half a dozen brand-new clients and getting to know a brand-new gym, but I’d somehow
met the guy of my dreams at the same time. Then there was that whole mate thing that I heard in my
head the moment I touched him, and that, by far, was more concerning than anything else.
My heart was still pounding, and he’d left over an hour ago.
“What have I gotten myself into this time?” I said aloud as I hopped into my SUV. “I can never do
anything in pieces. No, no. I’ve gotta jump in with both feet and try not to drown.”
It was typical of me to bite off more than I could chew. I had a bad habit of taking on more than I
could handle just so I could prove how capable I was. When I was young, it was to prove to people I
was an adult. When I became an adult, it was to silence all the people who said I couldn’t make a
living being a personal trainer. But these days, it was mostly me pushing myself to greater heights. I’d
reached that age where all my high school friends were too busy making babies to care about their
careers or think for themselves anymore. Most of them had turned into bible thumpers anyway, and I
wanted nothing to do with that.
Weirdly enough, Christianity and werewolves didn’t exactly go hand in hand.
Imagine that.
Right now, I was not only in my prime, but I was setting myself up for success for the rest of my life.
Both Parker and Wyatt had found their mates and their calling, each of them with their own unique
specialties. Meanwhile, I felt like I was falling behind. But that’s how I always felt with them, if I
was being honest. I grew up on the poor side of town with a mother too depressed to take care of me.
Wyatt and Parker were rich from the start, and while their lives had their own unique issues, they
didn’t have to worry about things like affording groceries or rent.
It made me feel less than them in some ways.
I tried to shake the thoughts from my head. “Remember your own advice, Oliver,” I muttered.
“Positive thoughts. You aren’t less. You’re just different.”
Shifting my focus away from my thought spiral of inadequacy, I thought about Charlie instead. I could
still picture him perfectly in my mind: his dark hair and those blue eyes. While he was working out,
his pale skin flushed pink, taking on a radiant glow that made me want to melt. It took everything I had
not to gawk at him the entire time. On the treadmill, I could watch him from behind, that tight ass of
his bouncing with each step, not to mention the bulge in his shorts while he was doing bench presses.
But more than anything, I couldn’t forget his scent. That warm honey and cinnamon smell made me
want to cream my shorts right then and there. It took a lot of readjusting, really baggy shorts, and some
very tight underwear to stop my hard-on from showing, but it had been there the entire time.
It took every fiber of my being not to reach out and touch him again. My body ached once more for
that feeling of electricity when our hands touched. I wanted to touch him, hold him, kiss him… fuck
him. It was overwhelming.
There was no doubt in my mind I was feeling the mate bond Parker and Wyatt had told me about. It
was so much stronger than anything I’d ever experienced in my life.
The only question was, did Charlie feel it, too?
Sure, I noticed that he couldn’t take his eyes off me. But I also noticed that every time I caught him
staring, he mentally reprimanded himself, and then, in the blink of an eye, his expression shifted to
one of melancholy. I’d done my best not to the things he blurted out here and there, but it was all too
easy to see how much he was hurting. Someone had torn his fucking heart out. And recently. The
wounds were so fresh that even he couldn’t hold back the emotions roiling within him.
And that, more than anything, gave me pause.
Yes, I knew he was my mate. There was no doubt about that. But he was hurt and in a fragile place.
The last thing he needed was some horned-up werewolf busting into his life and forcing his walls
down. His heart was already in tatters, and the last thing I wanted was to rush him into something he
wasn’t ready for.
I could show him kindness, but I couldn’t fix him.
Nobody could fix a broken heart or undo the damage done to it. I’d taken on enough project
boyfriends in my past to have learned that the hard way. Charlie needed time to fix himself. But, if I
could get him to stick with me, maybe I could give him the tools to rebuild his life and his confidence.
After all, wasn’t it the first job of a wolf to take care of his mate? I’d have to do it somewhat
covertly, but I had no doubt I could help at least a little bit. I just had to make sure I didn’t make it too
blatant. And whatever I did, I couldn’t make the first move.
Charlie would have to set the pace and ask for help if he really wanted it. There would be no strong-
arming my way into this one. After all, this wasn’t just some gym hook-up. We were talking about
mates and lifetimes if things went right. The last thing I wanted to do was screw that up before it even
got started.
My stomach growled loudly in the quiet interior of the car. I glanced down, patting it with my left
hand.
“I hear ya,” I said, pressing the ignition button. “Let’s go get some food.”
I reached down for my phone, swiping the screen open so I could stare at the same seven restaurants
in town and try to figure out if I wanted to get the same food I always got or go nuts and try something
I had every other night. However, the moment it came to life, I saw the pack chat had some recent
messages.

Parker: I just wanted to let you guys know that Aiden and I are planning a Halloween potluck
down on the beach. Nothing crazy. We’ve got all the meat and stuff covered with some extras.
Bring whatever you want. BYOB

Wyatt: Hell yes, bro! I love a good potluck! Tanner says he knows how to make cheesy potatoes.
Sounds like a casserole or something…

Parker: How midwestern…

Wyatt: When in Rome… or Michigan, I guess

I couldn’t help but smile. Joining the Ombra Pack was probably the best decision I’d made in my
adult life. It gave me an excuse to be with my best friends all the time, and I loved that.

Me: Sign me up! I’m definitely in. As long as there’s food, I’m there. :P
Parker: I figured as much. You and Wyatt… so food motivated

Wyatt: We’re part dog. It was bound to happen

Me: YOU may be part dog, but I’ll have you know I’m a majestic as fuck wolf

Wyatt: Yeah yeah yeah. BTW Parker, is it okay if my cousin Eoin comes? He said something about
being interested in the pack.

Parker: Sure! The more the merrier! As long as he promises not to tag the barn on his way back.

Wyatt: I don’t think he’s into graffiti anymore. Probably just a high school thing.

It had been years since I saw Eoin. He worked at the real estate agency Wyatt had spent most of his
adult life at. Recently, his father fired him for taking a human mate, but Wyatt seemed a lot happier
about it. Plus, he got Tanner out of the deal, and I couldn’t blame him for that. It wasn’t every day a
tall, dark, and handsome Italian man walked into your life.

Parker: Also, official pack business. My cousin Chance is coming down in early November to make
an official “ally pack visit.” I’m pretty sure he’s just taking a small vacation from his duties up
north.

Me: Chance Tellurian? He’s the Alpha of his pack, right?

Parker: Yep. This will solidify our allyship permanently.

Wyatt: Much official

Parker: We need it. The Ombra Pack is recognized, but that doesn’t protect us from everyone.
Having a relationship with the Tellurian Pack makes us damn near untouchable, though.
Especially if people like my parents want to stir up trouble again.

Me: Wyatt, make sure you’re on your best behavior

Wyatt: Why the fuck are you going after me?!

Parker: Because you’re always the problem BRO

Me: Yeah BROCHACHO

Parker: Brosef

Me: BROkeback Mountain

Wyatt: I hate both of you

I must have looked like an insane person cackling in my far by myself. But I didn’t care. Having
Parker back in town and the old group back together was incredible. I started to type, wanting to let
them know about meeting Charlie and realizing he was my mate.
But then I stopped.
Telling them would lead to questions, and then they might want to meet Charlie. If they knew he
existed, they wouldn’t stop hounding me until I made a move. That wasn’t going to be good for me or
for Charlie, especially if I had to take things extra slow.
Instead, I pushed the delete key until the whole message was gone. I’d tell them eventually, maybe
when things were looking more possible. For now, I needed to focus on my new job and be as
supportive as possible for my clients.
Especially Charlie.
 Six: Charlie

I sat bolt upright in bed, my chest heaving and heart pounding. The images of my nightmare were still
vibrant in my head, and my brain, still half asleep, was having a hard time figuring out what was real.
The first thing I did was reach up and flip the switch; the room suddenly bathed in harsh light. I
squinted and put my hand up to shield my eyes, but I didn’t close them. Instead, I stared at the far wall
as I tried to catch my breath. Slowly, my brain began to realize that I was safe and in my own bed
with nothing but an empty apartment surrounding me. I glanced at my phone, hoping against hope that
I’d gotten some sleep.
It was three in the morning.
I sighed, wedging pillows behind me as I leaned back against the wall. This nightmare had been one
of the worst I’d had so far, and I’d gotten barely any sleep. It was hard enough to actually fall asleep
nowadays, much less stay that way for more than two or three hours. I hadn’t found a new job yet, but
with how much I napped during the day to stay sane, it seemed impossible to squeeze in a full-time
job as well. Not that I felt ready to go back to work either, but my bank account wasn’t going to last
forever. I’d had to put down six months of rent just to move in without one, so there wasn’t much left.
If I could just stop dreaming about being eaten by a monster every single night, things would be fine.
Or at least, that’s what I thought.
Almost every night, I had a similar dream. It always started with me and my ex together for some
reason. Usually, we were fucking, something we rarely did in real life, but the dream made me
believe he loved me again and that this time, things would be different. However, the moment he
came, he abandoned me. He’d give me that same smirk, tell me how he didn’t want to see me again or
how he found someone else, and then disappear.
For a brief moment, I’d lay there confused as my heart slowly tore itself in two once more. As my
heart rate ramped up and the emotions threatened to overwhelm me, I’d suddenly find myself
somewhere else. Sometimes, it was an abandoned building and other times, it was a dark forest, but
the thing that was perfectly clear to me was that I was alone, naked, and defenseless.
Then the growls started.
With my mind still reeling from the moments before, I stood there without any idea of what to do. The
only thing that could finally convince me to run was the creaking of a door or the snap of a twig close
by. But when I looked up to find the source, all I saw were a pair of glowing red eyes surrounded by
shadow.
Each night, the monster was the same, and each night, I failed to outrun it. Sometimes, it was because
I fell into a pit. Other times, it was because he caught my foot and tore my muscles to ribbons.
Whatever the case, I always found myself on my back staring up at this massive beast as he came
closer, his fangs glimmering in the moonlight as his hulking form bore down on me. Sobbing and
mumbling, I begged for my life. And each night, he ignored my pleas, his jaws opening wide before
snapping down on my neck.
My eyes opened once more, my mind begging for the harsh light once more to remind me I was safe.
Even remembering the dream made my heart race. I reached up, rubbing my fingers across my neck.
The skin was intact, but I could still feel the tender places where his fangs had punctured through.
And now, same as always, I wouldn’t be able to sleep until the sun came up. Considering it was
early October, that meant I had nearly five hours to burn before I could leave the dark of night behind.
Gabbing my phone from the nightstand, I flipped open all my social media apps, beginning my
ritualistic doom scrolling until the sun came up. I started with one, got bored, and moved on to the
next. Eventually, I found myself lost in a sea of short videos that ate up my time but didn’t really hold
my attention. Not to mention, I was fairly certain ninety-nine percent of them were complete bullshit.
Can a flower pot and a candle heat an entire room? No, of fucking course it can’t. It’s a candle. That’s
not how thermodynamics works.
Eventually, I got tired of that and switched over to YouTube. There were lots of videos I wanted to
catch up on but never really felt like watching. However, now that I had hours to burn and no chance
of falling back asleep, I propped my phone up and hit play. Snuggling into my pillow with the light
still on, I watched whatever came across my feed. It didn’t matter if it was nerd shit, gardening, the
outdoors, or books. I watched it all.
By the time six rolled around, I was not only tired of watching videos, but my eyes were so dry from
staring at my phone that I couldn’t do it any longer. Blinking a few times, I pushed myself up in bed,
staring out the window toward the southern sky. On the eastern side, I could make out the first hints of
early morning gray, the sun’s warning that day was coming. I walked over to the window, throwing it
open.
A rush of cold, crisp air flowed through, causing gooseflesh to break out across my naked body. It
was cold and a bit intense, but at least it was something other than anxiety. My nightmares always left
me ridiculously on edge, and not getting sleep only made it worse.
I needed to get out of the apartment.
Without showering or even looking at my hair, I pulled on a pair of jeans, my hiking boots, and a
baggy hoodie. A pocket knife, my wallet, and my keys went into my pocket, but I stopped before I
slipped the phone in, too.
I really didn’t want to go to the gym today. Sure, I had a session with Oliver, and he was great to look
at, but I just didn’t want to be there with all those people. I felt bad enough without having to process
through all the noise and chaos around me, too. There was no way he was awake yet, but I figured I
should give him as much advance notice as I could.
Swiping open my messaging app, I pulled up Oliver’s name and started to type.

Me: Hey Oliver. I’m not gonna be able to make it today. Just wanted to give you a heads-up.

To my surprise, I watched the three dots on his side begin to bounce.

Oliver: That’s no problem. Anything wrong?

Me: I didn’t sleep well… just not sure I can handle the gym today. I’m gonna go get some fresh air
instead. There’s gotta be good hiking trails around here, right?

A full minute went by before my phone pinged again. This time, it was a link to a state park up in the
sand dunes north of town.

Oliver: Meet me there in a half hour. We can hike together.

Me: You don’t have to do that… really

Oliver: I want to. Plus, I gotta make sure you’re hiking with proper form :)

My heart pounded in my chest as I stared at his messages. The man, whom I’d only been to one
session with, was going to drive out at six in the morning to go hiking at a park with me. I wasn’t sure
if he was overly dedicated to his profession or if it was some kind of sign. Sure, he’d been a little
weird during our first meeting, but that didn’t mean anything. Besides, why would a great guy like him
be interested in me? I definitely didn’t deserve that kind of attention.
Still… being in the woods alone with him was a dizzying thought. Nobody would be around, and
maybe, for the first time in months, someone could finally give me what I’d been craving for so long.
My cock reacted the moment the image entered my head. I saw myself standing off the beaten
path, leaning up against a tree in the dark woods with my shorts around my ankles. Meanwhile, Oliver
had both his hands gripped around my hips as he filled my ass with his thick cock. He grabbed a
handful of my hair and pulled my head back as he pounded me out like a piece of meat. Of course, I
was moaning like a bitch, loving every minute of his exquisite torture. His balls slapped against my
ass as his pace increased, his rhythm growing more erratic. At last, after begging for it, he’d finally
slam his cock to the hilt, flooding my guts with his cum.
I shook my head, trying to get the thought out of it. However, my jeans were already extraordinarily
tight, and I was all too aware of the bead of precum already forming at the head of my cock. I needed
to stop fantasizing about my personal trainer. That was only going to make things more difficult,
especially since I’d taken out a larger bundle of sessions with him already. There were no refunds,
and I still wanted to get back in shape.
“That’s not going to happen,” I said aloud, taking a deep breath. “He doesn’t want some broken piece
of shit like you.”
Feeling the effect of my words wash over my body, I let out a sigh. My boner was already fading, but
the damage had been done. I could see the small wet spot on the front of my jeans from my excitement.
I pre-came so easily. It was almost embarrassing.
With another sigh, I kicked off my shoes and tossed my jeans into the clothes hamper. I
reached for another pair and stopped. If Oliver was going hiking with me, it would be more intense
than if I was on my own. That meant I was going to sweat, and I didn’t want jeans on for that. Instead,
I grabbed a pair of my hiking shorts. I realized after I had them on that they were a bit short, coming
down to only my mid-thigh. It seemed a little suggestive.
But I shrugged it off. Oliver and I were just going hiking, nothing more. He wasn’t going to judge me
for being comfortable. Besides, I was probably going to be too fucking tired to care ten minutes in.
Picking up my phone, I typed one last message before heading out.

Me: On my way.

Oliver: See you soon. Also, what kind of coffee do you like?
 Seven: Oliver

By the time I arrived at the park with coffee in hand, Charlie was already there. I parked near him,
giving a little wave through the front windshield. He was still just as gorgeous as I remembered, but
I’d be lying if I said he didn’t look a little worse for wear. When he said he didn’t sleep well, he
meant it. The poor guy looked like he’d never even gone to bed.
“Glad you could make it,” I said, getting out of the car. I nudged the door closed with my hip and held
out my hand. “I don’t know how you can drink iced coffee in this kind of weather, but I got what you
wanted.”
“Thanks,” Charlie replied, his voice gravelly with exhaustion. “How much do I owe you?’
I waved him off. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I don’t feel right having you buy my coffee…”
“They were… having a… BOGO deal.”
He stared at me, his face unmoving. “You’re a bad liar.”
“Who? Me?” I asked, feigning innocence. “I would never.”
He lifted an eyebrow, but the hints of a smirk followed right behind it. I gave myself an internal high
five. He thought I was funny.
“So, I know you’ve never been here before,” I continued, pretending not to notice that he still
expected an answer from me. “This is Ludington State Park. There’s lots of hiking trails here with
quite a bit of elevation if you’re looking for a challenge.” I pointed to the east. “That way is Hamlin
Lake. It’s one of the biggest ones for probably fifty miles or more.” I pointed in the opposite
direction. “And on the other side of the trees and the dunes is Lake Michigan. If we follow the trail,
we’ll come up on the little creek that connects the two together, and we can follow it all the way to
the lake. It’s pointed the wrong way for sunrise, but it’s pretty nonetheless.”
“I take it you’ve been here before.”
“Only a few hundred times,” I laughed, taking a sip of my coffee. “It’s a great place for a run through
the sand or up the dunes. Believe me, you’ve never had such a good calf workout in your life.”
“I can’t tell you how thrilled I am…”
“But,” I added, giving him a flash of my crooked smile. “I think we’ll just stick to marked paths and
boardwalks today. You said you didn’t get a lot of sleep, so I figured we can take it easy.”
“I really look that bad, huh?”
“I think you’re gorgeous,” I replied without batting an eye. “But you don’t strike me as the type to tell
a lie to get out of a session.”
He paused for a moment, giving me a good once over. It wasn’t hard to tell that he didn’t believe what
I’d said. There was a look of shock on his face that was quickly replaced by doubt. It only served to
confirm my suspicions that someone had indeed hurt him recently. The man was practically oozing
depression. However, when he could find no hint of jest on my features, I saw the faintest hint of a
smile at the corners of his lips, followed by a tinge of pink in his cheeks.
So he liked to be complimented. That was something I’d make sure to keep in my arsenal.
“Come on,” I said, gesturing for him to follow. “Let’s go down to Hamlin Lake and watch the
sunrise. After that, we can hike back to the big lake.”
“A-Alright,” he stammered, getting a hold of himself and jogging after me.
I led the way, keeping a pace ahead until we found the trail. After that, I slowed down a bit,
matching his stride, so we walked side by side. The path below our feet was a combination of packed
sand and pine needles, making out footsteps so silent even my wolf ears couldn’t pick them up. If I’d
been tapping into my wolven senses, I could have smelled the dew on the ground, the cold in the air,
the rotting leaves in the woods, or even the multitude of tiny critters frantically skittering about to
collect enough food for winter. But I noticed none of it.
All I could focus on was Charlie. I watched the muscles in his thighs and calves flex with
each step, his shorts riding a little higher to display his deliciously pale skin. There were freckles
there, too, splashed across the front of his thighs where the sunlight had kissed them during the
summer. He had a very clear tan line on his legs, and I remembered the hints of one at his shoulders
from our day in the gym. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to trace my tongue over his freckles,
kissing each one to show him how beautiful he was.
And his scent… my god, I could barely stand it. The cold, crisp air dulled all the scents of the
forest, but it merely intensified his through contrast. Cold fell away, and I felt myself nearly bowled
over by the rich, warm scent of honey and cinnamon. He… well, he almost smelled like a graham
cracker, but like a freshly baked one. It was deliciously sweet, with a hint of spice that seeped into
my pores. That, more than anything, got my body going. Already, I could feel the blood pooling in my
groin as my shorts got tighter. Thankfully, I’d worn the tightest underwear I had to stop it from getting
too far.
However, as I glanced down, I realized they weren’t doing as good of a job as I had hoped.
“So… what kept you up last night,” I asked, trying desperately to focus on something else. “Unless
that’s too personal.”
Charlie shook his head. “It’s fine. It wasn’t anything fun.”
I nodded. “Well, that’s… no fun, I guess.”
“Nope.”
Silence.
“Care to elaborate?” I took a sip of my coffee. “Only if you want to.”
“Do you really want to know?”
It was less a question and more him asking permission to share with me.
“Hey, personal trainers are more than just drill sergeants, you know. Some of us try to help our clients
in a holistic way. It’s hard enough to change your body without support, and those changes can bring
up a lot of repressed things. Plus, you can’t expect to achieve results and retain them if you don’t
prepare your mind and soul for the transformation.”
“Jeez. I didn’t realize this was a religious cult.”
“I have some Kool-Aid and a pair of Nike’s for you in my car.”
Charlie nearly spit out his drink as he suddenly turned away, sputtering as he tried to laugh. It was a
beautiful sound.
“Holy sh-shit,” he cackled, leaning against a tree. “I did not expect that.”
“Stick around, buddy,” I smiled, trying not to show how much I adored seeing a smile on his face.
“I’ve got a million of ‘em.”
We continued walking, the path tilting downward the further we went. Charlie was still smiling and
glancing in my direction every few seconds.
“So what kept you up?”
The smile faded, and he took a deep breath. “Nightmares.”
I nodded. “Pretty bad ones, I guess?”
“Yeah. The kind where monsters kill you at the end.”
“Care to tell me about them?”
He stopped in the middle of the path. I turned back, wondering what was wrong.
“Do… Do you really want to hear this?” he asked. “There’s a whole sob story to go along with it.”
I stepped up to him, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Yes,” I replied firmly. “I want to hear your
story. I know we don’t know each other that well, but I want you to know that you can trust me. I’m
not here to hurt good people.” I paused for a moment. “When you grow up gay in a small town, you
learn to tell the good people from the bad. And you, Charlie, are not a bad person. That is obvious.”
He stood in silence, his intense blue eyes staring into mine. For a moment, I thought he might cry, but
he shook it off and started down the path once more.
“Alright,” he sighed. “Buckle up. It’s a long story.”
I smiled, glad he was giving me a chance. “I love long stories.”
 Eight: Charlie

So I told him the entire story. I started with how me and my ex met, how I’d fallen madly in love with
him, and how he fell out of love with me before I knew what hit me. I told him about the divorce,
about the months of living with a mother who seemed to love my ex more than she did her own son.
Then I told him about how I just up and left, leaving my entire world behind. It wasn’t until I finally
got that entire story done that I could start on the nightmares. But he stopped me before I got into it.
“I thought you sounded just the slightest bit southern,” Oliver said with a smile. “Not like the people
around here that do this fake hick accent. But like a tried and true gentleman of the south.”
I couldn’t help a small scoff. “I’ve kinda forced most of it away,” I replied. “No matter where you go,
people think you’re stupid when you sound like that. So I tried to sound more like the people on the
news.”
“I think you would sound wonderful either way.”
My cheeks burned as I felt them blush. Quickly, I pulled my drink up for another sip, trying to hide my
embarrassment. There was something about the way he complimented me that pierced through all of
my defenses. For a moment, I wondered how he was so dexterous, but then I decided I needed to
work on making my walls thicker.
“And all of that,” I continued, trying to ignore his niceties. “Is why I have nightmares.”
“What are they about?”
I let out a deep sigh. “It always starts with my ex. Usually, we’re in some kind of intimate moment
where I’m convinced he actually cares about me. Sometimes, he even tells me he wants me back. But
then, not long after, he leaves with someone else on his arm without even looking back. I’m left
alone… usually naked… standing in the middle of a pitch-black forest.”
“That sounds a bit unsettling,” he added, not making any snide comments about the details of my
dream. His tone was more genuine than I expected. “I take it that’s not the scary part, though?”
I shook my head. “No. Although I usually start to panic at that point because I’m lost with seemingly
no way out.”
“Understandable.”
“And then the eyes show up.”
“The eyes?”
“Yeah…” I muttered, shuddering in the cold morning air. “A large pair of glowing red eyes watches
me. At first, they are far away, but every time they disappear behind a tree or bush, they appear a
moment later but closer. Eventually, I can hear it stepping through the leaves. Then I can hear its
rattling excited breath, like a wolf on the hunt.”
Oliver was silent.
“It tortures me for a while, growling and stomping through the leaves until I’m in such a state of panic
that I can’t stand still anymore. That’s the point where I bolt, running through the woods in some
unknown direction.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself; the images in my head were almost
too real to ignore. “And he always catches me. I trip, or he grabs my ankle… sometimes he even
latches his jaws around my arm and drags me to the ground. Whatever way I go down, it always ends
the same. I see those bright red eyes staring down at me and his fang-filled maw opening wide before
he bites down on my neck. Blood pours across my body as I try to scream. Then I wake up.”
Oliver glanced over at me. “How often do you have this dream?”
“Four or five times a week.”
“Fuck…” he muttered. “That’s terrifying.”
“I can never get back to sleep after it. I have to turn the lights on and watch something. I tried
messaging friends too so we could talk, but nobody’s awake that late at night.”
“You could call me,” Oliver said. “I’ll talk to you.”
I couldn’t help but scoff. “Jesus! Aren’t you tired of listening to me already?! Everyone else is.”
His expression didn’t change. “No.”
At that point, we’d come up to the edge of Hamlin Lake, both of us coming to a stop on the
boardwalk. I leaned on the railing, staring out across the mirror-like surface of the lake. On the
eastern horizon, I could see the first hints of pink and red as the sun threatened to rise. It wouldn’t be
long now.
“You probably think I’m being stupid or pitying myself,” I sighed. “But I’m fairly certain nobody likes
to listen to me. Even my friends took his side during the divorce. He fed them so many lies…” I could
feel the emotions threatening to consume me. “And the worst part is… I wish I could have him back. I
miss my life…”
“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Oliver replied softly, stepping up beside me. “You’re grieving. It’s only
natural to feel this way.”
“He was one of my first boyfriends. And the only man I think I’ve ever truly loved.” I shook my head,
irritated by how shitty I felt. “Isn’t that pathetic?” I chuckled. “But I realized far too late that he never
gave a shit about me. I was blind to it.” I stared up at the lightening sky, trying desperately not to cry.
“Twenty-five years old, and I don’t think I’ve ever even been kissed by someone that gives a damn
about me.”
“Do you want to change that?”
I turned to face Oliver, expecting to find a jester’s grin on his face. It had to be a joke, right? Why
would a perfect guy like that want anything to do with me?
But, much to my surprise, I found his expression serious.
Did he really want to kiss me?
“I… I just…” I was at a loss for words.
He reached up slowly, watching my every move as he traced his fingers over my cheek. His hand was
warm against my chilled skin, and I couldn’t help leaning into it. He came closer, his breath dancing
across my lips. Those gray eyes were still locked on mine, watching my every reaction for any hint to
stop. It wasn’t until our lips barely grazed one another that I snapped out of it and pulled away.
“I… I can’t…” I muttered, taking a few steps back.
“Charlie…” Oliver replied, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have–”
“I gotta go.”
With that, I turned on my heel and practically sprinted back to the parking lot, my heart pounding a
mile a minute.
 Nine: Charlie

It had been nearly a week since I’d been on the hike with Oliver, and I still wasn’t sure how to
process what had happened. Of course, he’d sent me an apology text later that day, but I didn’t
respond. How do you turn down a man who seems so perfect when you know that you’re damaged
goods? It’s not you; it’s me? That seemed like a stupid answer and one I knew he’d have some
stupidly supportive thing to respond with.
The truth was, I couldn’t get that moment out of my head. I wanted him to kiss me again and again until
my damn lips fell off. But Oliver was too good and too sweet to have to deal with someone like me. I
was a fucking mess and still recovering from the second biggest upset of my life thus far. I didn’t want
to drag him down with me. He seemed so happy and well-adjusted. I, on the other hand, could barely
function.
However, all those problems were before I went to bed. After that, all bets were off. I’d spent the
better part of a week obsessing about what to do about Oliver, and because of that, I’d enjoyed more
sleep than I’d gotten in a long time. I was starting to develop a false sense of confidence that my
nightmares were finally behind me. But, as always, the universe proved me wrong.
Only two hours after my head hit the pillow, I sat bolt upright, drenched in a cold sweat. My limbs
were shaking, I could barely breathe, and I was convinced that the fangs were still clamped around
my throat. I reached up, running my shaking hands across my body to make sure I wasn’t hurt. There
was no blood, only sweat.
This dream had been the worst one thus far, and no matter how many lights I turned on or what I tried
to look at on my phone, I couldn’t convince my body that I hadn’t been mortally wounded. The
monster had caught me this time, and instead of going straight for my neck, he decided to cut me open
and feast on my innards before he finally killed me. I had to lay there, paralyzed in my sleep and
trying to scream as he ate me alive. I’d never been through so much pain in my entire life.
I tried social media, videos, email, and anything I could find to get my mind off it. But nothing was
helping. Messages were sent out to friends, hoping they’d respond and give me something to do.
However, there was nobody online, and more than a couple of them had unfriended me since the last
time I checked.
That was when I saw his name in my messages. Oliver did say I could talk to him when I had a bad
dream. If I’d been in a marginally better state, I might have talked myself out of it. But considering I
was in the middle of a full-blown panic attack, there was no reasoning in my mind.
With quivering fingers, I typed out a simple message to him.

Me: You awake? Bad dream again… sorry…

I watched the message go through and waited for a few seconds. The three little dots didn’t bounce,
and I kicked myself internally. Of course, he wasn’t awake. It was the middle of the night! Plus, I’d
fucking ignored him and canceled my session for the week. Why would he even give me the time of
day now? I was acting like a fucking weirdo, and he knew it. The last thing he needed was some guy
composed entirely of red flags.
Before I could move further into berating myself, my phone began to vibrate in my hand, nearly
scaring the life out of me. I dropped it to the bed in shock, the screen alighting.
Oliver.
Was he calling me?
I reached down and swiped the green button before I could stop myself.
“H-Hello?”
“Hey,” a groggy but concerned voice said from the other side. “I got your message. Are you okay?”
“I… I’m sorry…” I muttered, trying to sound more calm than I was. “I shouldn’t have–”
“No, no,” he replied, cutting me off. “I told you to call me if you needed to talk when this happens.”
“You shouldn’t have to lose sleep because of me…”
“Charlie,” he said, his tone firm. “I want to help you with this.”
I was too afraid to respond, tears silently falling down my cheeks. It was such a relief to hear another
person’s voice after that dream. It made me feel more rooted in the real world, the torture of the
nightmare behind me.
“So, what do you want to talk about?” Oliver asked. “Let’s not talk about the dream. What did you do
earlier today?”
I sniffled, trying to keep it as quiet as possible. “I… I went on another hike today.”
“Oh? Where did you go?”
“To that same park again,” I continued, trying to stop my voice from cracking. “I took the same path,
but I went out to Lake Michigan, too.”
“What did it smell like?”
I paused. “W-What?”
“I said, what did it smell like?” he repeated. “Trust me.”
I had to close my eyes for a moment, trying to recall the memory. “I… I went later in the afternoon,
and the sun was warm today. It smelled like… I don’t know… wet leaves and warm earth. I always
thought that combination sort of smelled like Halloween.”
Oliver chuckled. “I know exactly what you mean. It’s one of my favorites.” He paused again. “Tell me
three different things that caught your attention while you were there. Little moments that made you
stop and take pause.”
“Okay… I uh… I think I saw a fish when I went down to Hamlin Lake.”
“What kind?”
“I don’t know. It was kinda long and skinny with a pointy face. Could have been a Muskie or a Pike, I
guess.”
“Probably one of those,” Oliver agreed. “The lake is full of them.”
“Oh… and there was a pair of loons out on the lake, too. Their voices were echoing over the lake.”
“I always thought they sounded kinda sad.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. It feels kind of haunting and ethereal like you’re hearing something
most people don’t get to experience.”
“I like your perspective better.” He paused. “What was the third thing you saw?”
“Hmm… I guess I was pretty surprised by Lake Michigan.”
“It’s big, right?”
“I had no idea. You see it on a map, and you think it’s big, but seeing it in person is another thing
entirely.” I paused for a moment, picturing the crystalline water stretching to the horizon. “I’ve never
seen the ocean before, but it probably feels the same, right?”
“Probably,” Oliver replied, the smile audible in his voice. “But no sharks, and it probably smells
better.”
“Are there any big fish in the lake?”
“I mean… I’ve heard sturgeon can get really big, but they don’t go after people. Everything in the lake
is fairly docile. Worst thing I’ve ever heard of is one of the sturgeon getting spooked and snapping a
kayak in half. Apparently, they jump.”
“Wow… I mean, that’s gotta be scary, but that’s also kind of cool.”
“Yeah, apparently, people mistake them for big logs floating down the river when they swim
upstream. I think the record for that lake is seven feet long or something. They’re big puppies, though,
so nothing to worry about.”
“How do you know so much about fish?”
“I used to go a lot as a kid with my dad before he passed away.”
My heart sank. Apparently, we had more in common than I thought. “I’m sorry to hear that. Mine
passed away when I was young, too.”
“I was twelve,” he replied. “You?”
“Fourteen.”
“It happens, I guess,” he sighed. “It sucks, but you learn to live with it, right?”
“Yeah. Not much else to do.”
There was a long pause.
“Feel better now?”
I’d completely forgotten I was having a panic attack. I stared down at my free hand, which was no
longer shaking as I placed it on my chest. My heart rate had calmed down considerably, and already, I
was starting to dry off. The sheets around me were still damp, but I wasn’t sweating through them
anymore.
“I… I do…” I stopped for a moment, completely consumed by my disbelief. “H-How did you do
that?”
“It’s a trick I picked up. When someone is having a hard time, you have them focus on sensory
information. Basically, I just got you to think about something else so your body had a chance to
realize it was fine.” He clicked his tongue. “Kind of a classic misdirection, I guess, but for your
brain.”
“Th-Thank you,” I managed to get out. For a long moment, I sat there, trying to figure out what to say
next. But before I could form a thought, I heard words spilling out of my mouth. “I’m sorry, Oliver. I
should have responded to you.”
“It’s okay. Really. I shouldn’t have come onto you like that. It was unfair.”
“No! I liked it–” I snapped my mouth shut, terrified by what I’d just said. “I mean… it was nice and
I… Well, it was… I don’t know…”
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he offered. “I promise I’ll keep my hands to
myself from now on.”
My heart fell. That’s definitely not what I wanted him to do, but I didn’t have the balls to say
otherwise.
“Oliver?”
“Yeah?”
“Will… Will you talk to me until I fall asleep?”
I could hear the smile in his voice. “Of course. Why don’t you get comfy, and we’ll both try to get
some sleep, okay?”
“Okay.”
I shifted to the other side of the bed, snuggling into my pillow with the phone pressed up against my
ear. Dimming the lights in my room, I pulled the second pillow close to my torso, pretending he was
there beside me.
“Oliver?”
“Hmm?”
I paused as I heard him yawn on the other end of the line. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Charlie.” He yawned again. “I’ll always be here when you need me.”
 Ten: Oliver

When I awoke in the morning, the first thing I noticed was the dull throb on the side of my face. I
pushed myself up from the pillow, realizing there was a rectangular dent in my face from my phone.
I’d fallen asleep on it talking to Charlie.
Charlie…
I couldn’t help the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. He’d called me. Me. When he needed someone
to lean on. The feeling was a combination of excitement, nerves, and a deep sense of pity for his
situation. Of course, I wanted to rush to him and hold him, to prove to him he was worth something.
But that wasn’t what he needed. Instead, I needed to reign myself in. He needed support, not the
pressure of my constant pining.
That was going to be difficult.
But it’s what I had to do. I let out a deep sigh and threw the covers off of me. My cock sprang free,
already rock hard and ready to go. Even just thinking about Charlie got me going. Every time I’d been
around him, I had to try to hide it or force my feelings down. But as I glanced around the room, I
realized I was alone. And I needed the release.
Tracing my fingers along the underside of my cock, I shuddered as the shivers ran down my spine. It
had been a few days. I’d been so busy worrying that I’d driven Charlie away that I’d neglected
myself.
Wriggling down to get comfortable, I wrapped my fingers around my thick cock, pumping it slowly.
Already a bead of precum had formed at the head of my cock, and I reached down with a finger to
collect it, bringing it to my lips. The sweetness burst across my tongue; my wolf senses picking up the
intense pheromones from my groin. Charlie had me so worked up I could barely stand it. But it wasn’t
enough to just jerk off. No… I wanted him inside me.
Sticking two fingers in my mouth, I swirled my tongue around them until they were nice and lubed.
Opening my legs, I dipped them down below my balls, finding that sweet, sensitive spot that I longed
to have touched. I wondered what it would feel like to have Charlie’s cock buried between my
cheeks, his rod stretching me as he pushed himself inside. Mimicking the movements with my fingers,
I slowly pushed past my ring, a gasp of pleasure spilling from my lips.
“F-Fuck…”
My mind was full of images of Charlie. I imagined him splayed out on the bed underneath me as I
rode his cock. My body rocked back and forth, aching for more friction as my cock bounced against
his belly. He moaned and grasped my hips, begging for more. Of course, I wasn’t one to say no to
such a request.
I slipped my fingers further inside, working them in and out as I pumped my cock. Already, I could
feel the orgasm building, my body trying to tense. I willed it to relax, pushing even further. My
fingertips found my prostate, and I pushed, knowing it would drive me over the edge. All the while, I
imagined Charlie beneath me, my tight hole milking his cock.
Suddenly, my abs tensed, and my balls drew up, the warm sensation shooting through my body. With a
moan of pleasure, I came, sticky cum splashing across my torso. Wave after wave of pleasure filled
my body, and I rode each one, my fingers still making small circles against my sweet spot.
It felt incredible. However, I was all too aware that the real thing would be at least a hundred times
better. I wasn’t sure if I’d survive such an encounter, but I was all too willing to risk it. Charlie was
worth it.
For a long moment, I lay there, the last waves of my orgasm fading away.
“Well,” I sighed at last. “I guess it’s time for work…”
Jogging to the bathroom before the cum could drip off me onto the floor, I started getting ready for my
day. It didn’t take long to get around. Working at a gym came with the perk of never having to dress
up. It also meant that I could just dump my stuff into a backpack and call it good for the day. I only
took a moment to stop in the mirror to make sure my hair was somewhat presentable and headed out
the door.
The other great part about working at the gym was that it was only a few blocks away. Most days, I
wouldn’t even consider driving, but the chill in the air that morning was a bit strong for my liking, and
my shorts were a bit whore-ish, which was perfectly fine with me.
Fifteen short minutes later, I walked into the gym with a coffee in hand, feeling pretty damn good
about myself.
“Something’s different about you,” Mark said the moment I walked in the door.
“Good morning, Mark,” I replied sarcastically.
He gave me a good once over, his eyes flashing violet once more. “Oh… I see.” He leaned across the
counter, his intense gaze resting on me. “It’s that guy from the other day, isn’t it?”
“Mark…” I sighed. “You’ve still not explained how you do this.”
“I told you, I’m a witch.”
“Yeah, but…” I said, walking over and placing my bag on the counter. “What kind? Where did you
learn it all? How come you seem to know so much about me?”
“I’m a spirit witch. An energy worker. I learned it at witch school. And it seems like I know a lot
about you because my familiar is a werewolf.”
“Ooof,” I muttered, taking a sip of my coffee. “I bet that person’s family isn’t happy.”
“Nope. They weren’t,” he smiled. “But both he and I felt it was more important to be true to
ourselves.”
“I knew you and I had something in common.”
“Being paranormal or being gay?”
“Yep.”
He glared at me for a moment. “You’re avoiding my question.”
“So this witch school,” I continued, ignoring him again. “What’s that all about? I didn’t know there
was one.”
“There’s only two in the United States. One in Oregon…”
“Of course, Oregon.”
“And one in West Virginia.”
I stopped. “Well, that one I didn’t expect.”
“It’s the one I went to, buried deep in the mountains. Now tell me about this boy.”
“Boy? How do you know it’s not a woman.”
“Pup, please.”
I let out a deep sigh. “Fine. Yes. There’s a guy I like, and yes, it’s the guy that came in here the other
day. But I’m not pursuing him right now, just supporting him when he needs me.”
“Uh oh. Damaged goods?”
“He seems to think so,” I replied, taking another sip. “But I think he’s perfect.”
“That’s a delicate situation.”
“He’s pretty beat up. Freshly divorced, no family or friend support, and new in town. Not to mention
the worst case of self-deprecation I’ve seen in a while.”
“That’s rough.”
I nodded. “Wait… you said your familiar is a werewolf?!”
“Yep.” He stopped me before I could speak again. “He’s not part of your pack or your old one. He’s
from Pennsylvania.”
“He’s here without a pack?”
“He has me.”
“Mmm…” I hummed. “No offense. But it’s not the same. There’s support in a pack you can’t get in a
relationship. Safety in numbers and all.”
Mark raised an eyebrow in my direction. “Do you want him to join yours?”
I shrugged. “I mean… he could apply, I guess?”
“I’ll let him know. Now stop changing the subject.” He gave me another once over. “How much do
you like this new guy?”
I opened my mouth to respond but immediately closed it again.
“Oh…” A smile spread over his face. “He’s your mate, isn’t he?”
Silence.
“Yep. That’s exactly what he is.” Mark sighed, shaking his head. “And human, too, which means he
doesn’t feel it like you do. He doesn’t know yet. And he doesn’t know what you are either.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I replied, trying to hold back the flood of emotions I wanted to express. “Right
now, I just need to be supportive. I’m friend-zoning myself on this one until he’s feeling better. I
already pushed it too far once, and I’m not gonna make that mistake again. He called me last night to
talk him to sleep after a bad nightmare, and that’s how things are gonna go from now on. I’ll follow
his move.”
“But are you going to tell him what you are?”
“No,” I said. “I can’t. Not yet.”
“So you’re going to try to bottle up all your werewolfishness around him?” He let out a small
chuckle. “Good luck with that pup.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He gave me a knowing look. “I’m magically tied to one of your kind. I can hear his thoughts and feel
his emotions. I know exactly what being a werewolf is like, more so than most outside of your
species.” He leaned across the counter again, staring at me long and hard. “You can’t deny what you
feel. And the longer you wait to tell that boy, the harder things will be.”
“Thank you for your relationship advice that I didn’t ask for,” I replied sarcastically. “I’ll be fine,
though. I’ve denied myself before.”
“Not like this, you haven’t.” He reached out, booping me on the nose. “Trying to deny fate is an
impossible task. Trust me.”
I don’t know why, but I believed him when he said it.
 Eleven: Charlie

I was dreaming about hiking through the woods. I’d just come upon a large field full of wildflowers
when I decided to take a break. The breeze was warm and pleasant, the sweet scent of nectar filling
the air. All around me were honeybees and bumblebees going about their business. I leaned back in
the tall grace, lacing my fingers behind my head as I stared up at a cloud-strewn blue sky.
All of a sudden, I felt a strange buzzing under my left arm. Then it happened again. I leaned up on my
elbow, glancing down to see a bumblebee trapped in the grass. But before I could get my arm out of
the way and set it free, I woke up.
But the buzzing continued.
It took me a moment to blink the sleep out of my eyes and realize I was in bed. However, that didn’t
stop my brain from thinking there was a bee in my bed. With a series of quick movements, I was
sitting up, pulling the covers aside to make sure my apartment hadn’t been invaded by bees in the
night. However, all I found was my phone, nearly dead and tucked under the pillow where my arm
had been.
Relieved my bed wasn’t full of bees, I picked up my phone and dropped my head back to the pillow. I
was surprised to see it was almost noon. I hadn’t slept that long in years, much less the past few
months. Of course, that meant I felt like I’d been hit by a truck, but in a good way. However, the
messages drew me away from the intense grogginess blurring my world.
The texts were from him.

Oliver: Hey! I hope you slept a bit better last night! If it’s not too much to say… I’m glad you
called me. It felt good to help you out, and I enjoyed talking to you. I just hope it helped.

My heart was pounding in my chest, the butterflies in my stomach throwing a rave that would put the
underground German scene to shame. He enjoyed talking to me even though I’d woken him up in the
middle of the night. It was a strange feeling to have someone grateful that I’d inconvenienced them. I
wasn’t quite sure how to process it. Nobody had ever said anything like that to me before.

Me: I just woke up… so I’d say it worked! Thank you for taking that call… last night was a bad
one. I really appreciate it.

Oliver: More than happy. Call me anytime you need, day or night! And I mean that, too! ;P

Me: I will. Or at least I’ll try.

Oliver: That’s all I can ask

I couldn’t help smiling as I read his replies. Oliver was such a nice guy. It was hard not to like him.
He’d scared me with that whole ‘kiss’ incident the week before, but the more I talked to him, the more
I wished I’d taken him up on his offer. It felt good to be seen for what felt like the first time.
Oliver: BTW, are you coming in for your session today? I know you canceled, but I’m hoping we’ve
mended that partially-burnt bridge.

Me: *sigh* I guess

Oliver: Good. Now that you got some rest, I can really put you through the wringer ;P

Me: Great… glad I agreed to that…

Oliver: It won’t be that bad, don’t worry. Just come down to the gym when you’re ready. I’m open
all afternoon.

I let the phone fall on the pillow beside me as I stared up at the ceiling. My heart was still pounding,
and the butterflies refused to relinquish their glowsticks. I had so many conflicting emotions running
through my body, but for the first time in a while, the winning majority was positive. That
simultaneously excited and scared me. And then the scariest thought of all floated through my head.
What if I gave Oliver a chance?
Immediately, I was unsure if I was ready for such a thing. But at the same time, I could no longer deny
that I wanted it. I’d wanted him since the moment I met him. There was some sort of weird spark
between us that I didn’t understand, and those tempting gray eyes of his had me mesmerized. The body
wasn’t bad either, and of course, he was probably the nicest person I’d met in years. Like genuinely
nice.
But that scared me, too. My experience was that nice people wanted something, and as soon as they
got it, they were gone. Could Oliver really be like that? He didn’t really seem the type. There was
something about him that oozed loyalty and sincerity. Maybe it could be worth the trouble to actually
get to know him. I wanted to, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold that feeling back.
How would I do it? Should I ask him on a date, or was that too forward? Maybe I should let him
make the first move. Then again, after my outburst at the park, I’d probably scared him away from
doing anything. But I was so bad at initiating things. If not for my ex’s disgusting amount of
confidence, we never would have dated. I would have spent that entire summer too scared to speak to
him.
But this time, it was different. Oliver wasn’t some asshole at a music festival hunting for a piece of
willing ass wrapping in charming smiles. He was genuinely good, and even if he told me no, I was
confident he wouldn’t laugh or make me feel bad about it.
Now, I just had to build up the courage to actually ask.
And I was about to get my chance. Pushing myself out of bed, I made my way to the shower. Usually, I
wouldn’t be terribly excited about getting my ass handed to me during a workout, but the prospect of
seeing Oliver made it more enticing. Not to mention, I got to spend an entire hour staring at him.
It was amazing what a night of restful sleep could do for a guy’s confidence.
Less than a half hour later, I was walking through the gym doors with a small bag slung over my
shoulders. I’d brought an extra pair of clothes with me just in case I got the nerve to ask Oliver out. I
thought something small, like grabbing coffee, would be something easy to start with.
“Good afternoon,” the man at the desk said like always. “Welcome back.”
“Hi.” I glanced around the gym. “Is uh… Oliver here?”
“He sure is. I think he’s in the back, finishing up some paperwork. He should be out in just a couple of
minutes.”
“Oh. Okay. I’ll just wait for him, I guess.”
“He’s practically a machine today, getting so much work done. I wonder what’s got him in such a
good mood.”
I glanced up, but the clerk was no longer looking in my direction. “Maybe he’ll go easy on me today,”
I added.
“Oh, I doubt that.” A smirk pulled across the man’s face. “He doesn’t go easy on anyone.”
“I’ve noticed…”
“But it’s a good thing.”
I paused. “How do you mean?”
The man turned back toward me, his eyes twinkling. “Well, if he was going easy on you, you wouldn’t
be accomplishing your fitness goals. He pushes people because he cares about them and wants them
to succeed. In fact, I’d be worried if he didn’t push you to your limits.” He leaned across the desk,
placing his chin in his hands. “He’s a very emotional creature, this Oliver, although he likes to cover
it up with sarcasm and jokes. If I didn’t already have my perfect man… I might be tempted. Anyone
would be lucky to have him.”
I nodded, uncomfortable with the man’s sudden intensity. “Yeah. I guess he’s pretty good.”
“Pretty good?” he scoffed. “He’s practically a Golden Retriever. Loyal, loving, and true to the end.
You couldn’t ask for anything better.”
“Are you done, Mark?”
I snapped my head to the left, realizing that Oliver was standing at the other side of the desk. I wasn’t
sure how long he’d been there, and I felt my heart begin to pound. How much had he heard?
Mark, on the other hand, didn’t react at all. He simply turned toward Oliver with a grin on his
face, completely unbothered by his presence.
“Just telling the truth,” he replied. He stood up, gesturing over to me. “It looks like one of your clients
is here to see you.”
“Thanks, Mark.” I definitely saw him roll his eyes before he turned his attention to me, a smile
replacing his obvious annoyance. “Hey, Charlie.”
“H-Hey.”
“Sleep well?”
I nodded.
“Good,” he smiled and held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s go get started.”
I took his hand, heat flushing to my cheeks as I followed.
“You boys have fun,” Mark called after us. His eyes fixed on me for a moment, and I swore they
flashed violet. “And remember to give it your best shot.”
I pulled my gaze away from him, turning back toward Oliver. There was something about that guy that
felt weird. I just couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
 Twelve: Oliver

I spent the entire workout worrying about what Mark had said. Charlie looked uncomfortable, and I
hated that. He was my mate, after all, and there was a strong sense of protection when it came to his
welfare. That witch was getting a bit too nosy for his own good. I didn’t need him pushing Charlie
toward me or making things harder for him. I especially didn’t need him hinting at my secrets that
Charlie was not ready for. And I planned on having a talk with him later about it.
However, I tried to stay focused on Charlie while we were working together. I put him through a
round of cardio again, finding that with a full night’s sleep, he was in much better shape by the end of
it than our last couple of sessions. After that, we moved to weight lifting, doing a full round again.
With relative ease, he blew through all of his old records and still had some energy to spare. By the
time we got to yoga at the very end, he seemed thoroughly worked through but still glowing with
energy.
I had no idea that a simple gesture such as talking him to sleep could have such a profound effect.
“You did really well today,” I said as we finished up, and I tossed him a towel. “I’m impressed!”
He blushed. “Well… I guess it’s mostly thanks to you for… you know… helping me.”
“I had nothing to do with it. You were the one running and lifting today, not me. All the credit goes to
you for those accomplishments.” I tossed him a towel. “At this rate, you’re going to make all your
goals within a few weeks pretty easily.”
“You think so?”
“I guarantee it,” I nodded. “You look amazing the way you are, but you’ll trim up pretty fast. Just
getting moving again will have a profound effect on your body.” I leaned close, giving him a nudge.
“And maybe it’ll help with the dreams, too. Not that I mind your calls.”
“You… really didn’t mind?”
“Not at all.” I took a breath, wondering if I should say anything further. “I… uh… kind of enjoyed it.
Not that I want you to have nightmares, but it was good to hear your voice.”
I could tell my words surprised him, his stunned silence enough to prove nobody had ever spoken to
him like that before. I decided to take one more chance.
“I think I slept better, too,” I added. “It was like you were right there.”
He was silent again, turning his gaze toward the floor. I mentally kicked myself, convinced I’d gone
too far again. Between having him so close and his rich honey-like scent, I couldn’t help myself from
trying to get close to him. I wanted him in my arms, in my life, and in my bed.
“Look,” I sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have–”
“Do you want to go out with me?” he blurted.
I froze up, staring into those deep blue eyes so filled with terror. He was just as surprised as I was
that the words had spilled forth from his lips. In a flash, I saw him prepare to backtrack, horrified that
he’d made a mistake. However, I wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass me by.
“Yes,” I nearly shouted, cutting him off. “Absolutely.”
He stared for a moment longer.
“R-Really?”
“Yes. I want to.”
“Oh… okay…” Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting that answer. “I guess… uh… what do you want to
do?”
“How about something simple? Like coffee or a movie or something?” I offered. “That’s pretty low-
stress, right?”
“Yeah… that sounds… good.”
“Hey,” I said, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Everything’s fine. You don’t need to
be worried.”
“Sorry… I should be happy. I’m the one that asked you, after all.”
“It’s scary, I get it. Especially coming from your situation.”
“I’m sorry about that too…”
“Sorry for what? That you’ve lived life? That seems like a silly thing to be sorry about.”
“But the baggage…”
“Charlie,” I said, cupping his cheek. “I like you. Baggage and all.”
A smile spread across his face, filling my stomach with butterflies. He was so beautiful when he
smiled.
◆◆◆

Three hours later, I found myself standing outside one of the two coffee shops in town,
wearing something a little cuter than a pair of gym shorts and a tank. So far, Charlie had seen me in
gym clothes and outdoor gym clothes, so I put a little more effort into putting myself together this time
since we were on a proper date. Now I was in legit autumn attire, and my little scarf was cute as fuck.
I still could hardly believe it was actually happening. The butterflies had been going all
afternoon, and my heart seemed to flutter at the smallest sound. I’d never expected Charlie to ask me
out, especially not so soon. It was easy to see he was still hurting and definitely nervous, but I was
too excited to worry about it too much. All I needed was a chance, and I could prove to him how
much he deserved to be happy. Maybe that wasn’t my job to do, but as his mate, I felt compelled to
help in any way I could.
All afternoon, I’d been obsessing about what we would talk about or what move we should go see. In
the end, I hadn’t really chosen anything. I only managed to work myself up even more until both the
human and the wolf inside me were damn near sick. I wanted to run into the woods and shift so I
could run off my nerves. But it was far too late for that.
And how was I going to tell Charlie that he was my mate? Or that I was a werewolf? Both seemed
like impossible topics to broach and definitely not something for a first date. I wanted to be honest
with him, to show him that he could trust me. But I also didn’t want to scare him. He was already in
such a delicate spot as it was.
I let out a long sigh, glancing back toward the parking lot just as his car pulled in. He pulled into a
spot and turned the vehicle off, spending a couple of minutes messing with his perpetually messy hair,
trying to get it to lie flat. As expected, he was unsuccessful. But I liked the way his hair looked. It was
adorable.
Getting out of his car, he headed toward the coffee shop and nearly walked right past me.
“Hey, Charlie,” I said, nearly scaring him to death.
“Fuck!” he cried, holding a hand to his chest. “I… I didn’t even see you there.” He paused, his gaze
scanning up and down my body. “You… You look really good.”
I couldn’t help grinning like an idiot.
“Not that you don’t always look good,” he said, trying to backtrack. “I just meant–”
“You’ve never seen me in anything but sweaty gym shorts,” I nodded. “I get it.”
“Those are great, too!”
I gave him a knowing look, cocking one eyebrow up. “Noted.”
His face turned beet red in an instant.
“Coffee?”
“Y-Yeah,” he nodded. “Before I say something else stupid.”
I patted him on the back, leading him through the doors. “I like honesty. It’s a rare trait.”
A few minutes later, we left the shop with coffee in hand. We crossed the road to the movie
theater, stopping for a moment to see what they had been playing.
"My god…" I muttered. "Another Hugh Grant movie? Ugh… He is so old news."
"He's in this one too?" Charlie asked, clicking his tongue.
"Yep. And scheduled in several more. I have no idea why that dude is making a comeback."
We stared at the listings for a bit longer. A quick glance at Charlie told me he wasn't seeing
anything he liked either. The last thing I wanted to do was sit through a movie where we were both
bored off our asses. Would it make for a good make-out session? Probably. Was Charlie ready for
that? I wasn’t sure. Better to be safe.
"Are you hungry?"
"Yeah. I could eat."
"Cool," I said, grabbing him by the hand. "Let's go pick up food and go to the lake. Sunset
there is gonna be way better than any movie they've got here."
“Are they anything special?”
I stopped, staring at him with one eyebrow cocked. “The fact that you just asked me that question
proves you don’t know what you’re missing. Come on. I’ll drive.”
“Alright,” he nodded, allowing himself to be pulled along by me.
“Chinese food, okay?”
“Absolutely.”
I gave him a wink and a smile. “Man after my own heart.”
 Thirteen: Charlie

Sitting on the beach with a container of Lo Mein and some chopsticks was not exactly how I pictured
the date with Oliver going. But I couldn’t have been happier. The food was great, the company was
even better, and as the sun sank toward the horizon, I realized what I’d been missing all along.
“Wow,” I muttered, staring out over the calm water. “This really is incredible.”
“It’s a perfect day for it,” Oliver replied, nudging me with his shoulder. “A few clouds in the sky, nice
warm weather. That always brings out the pinks and golds. If you’re lucky, you might even see the
green flash as it dips below the horizon.”
“Green flash?”
“The moment the last bit of sun goes below the horizon, the light is bent through the atmosphere, and
sometimes it turns green. It’s rare, but it’s pretty cool.”
“Wow,” I nodded, turning back toward the horizon. “This place sure is a lot more interesting than I
expected.”
Oliver scoffed. “What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know… when you throw a dart at a board and move there, you don’t really have high hopes
for where it lands. Especially when it's in the middle of the Midwest.”
“You… actually threw a dart at a board?”
I nodded. “I was desperate to leave.”
“Wow… I really admire that. That’s gotta take some real balls to follow through with.”
I glanced over at him, expecting to see a joking smile on his face. But instead, he was serious. “It was
a stupid thing to do,” I added quickly.
“I don’t think so.” He took a bite of his orange chicken. “I think it’s really brave of you to just up and
leave when things didn’t feel right. I’ve lived here my whole life. I didn’t even go to college. Every
day has been spent in or around this town, and there were plenty of times when I didn’t feel like I
belonged. But I didn’t have the guts to do anything about it. Then my friends got busy or moved
away… it felt like I was here all by myself.” He let out a sigh and shook his head. “But they’re back
now. I have my own little pa–... family.”
“Your friends moved back?”
“Yeah. In the past year or so. Parker was first and his mate. Then Wyatt finally got out of his shitty job
so he could actually live a little. That was mostly thanks to him finding out he was a bit more sexually
flexible than he thought,” Oliver chuckled. “He’s been a huge dude-bro his whole life, always chasing
women. Then he met Tanner, and all that changed real fast.”
Mate was a weird term to use for partner, but I let it go. “So… both your friends are gay then?”
“I guess Wyatt’s technically bi. But who knows now. He might think differently. He was definitely
straight when we were kids, though.”
“You guys grew up together?” I smiled. “That’s so sweet.”
“Yeah. Parker and I kinda dated a bit in high school, if you can really call it that. Mostly, we just let
out our sexual frustration with one another. But we both knew it wasn’t going anywhere serious.”
“Oh…” I was a little taken aback. “Are… uh… you two still… involved?”
He laughed, patting my knee. “We haven’t done anything with each other since high school. You’ve
got nothing to worry about. Besides, he found the perfect man already. He’s not gonna come running
back to me. We were textbook friends with benefits, that’s all.”
“I wish I would have done that.”
“Oh, come on,” he replied, taking another bite. “You’re telling me a cute guy like you didn’t have a
couple of flings in high school?”
My cheeks burned from his compliment. “N-No… I was a virgin until I was nineteen. Until I met…
my ex.”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s fine,” I replied, pushing my food around in its container. “I’ve got to talk about it eventually,
right? It happened, and I can’t change that.”
“That’s true, I suppose.”
“He was the first guy that ever really paid me any mind,” I continued, still stirring my food but not
eating any. “In hindsight, I realize he was just looking for a regular piece. But I was in love, or at
least I thought I was. Lesson learned the hard way on that one, I guess.”
Oliver reached out, putting his arm across my shoulders and scooching closer. “There’s no shame in
loving someone. Sometimes, we have to learn hard lessons so we can do it right the next time.” He
paused, glancing down at the sand. “I felt that way about Parker a bit. Especially when he just up and
left for college. We kept in touch, but it just wasn’t the same. I felt pretty rejected even though I knew
he wasn’t the one.”
I nodded, my skin practically vibrating where he touched me. “I guess hearts just don’t like to listen
sometimes.”
“No, they don’t.”
I thought he’d pull his hand away, but instead, he put his food off to the side and leaned his head
against my shoulder. His arm slipped down around my waist, and I felt myself stiffen.
“Is this okay?” he asked softly.
I didn’t respond. He glanced up at me and started to pull away, but I grabbed his hand, holding it in
place on my hip.
“N-No,” I said, finding my courage at last. “I like it.”
Oliver smiled and snuggled back in. “Me too.”
We both stared out over the water as the sun kissed the horizon. The world was drenched in red and
gold as far as the eye could see. A cool breeze picked up off the lake, rustling my hair and causing
Oliver to pull closer to my side. It was almost strange having such a muscular guy cuddling up with
me, but I liked it. I didn’t care if he was taller or stronger. At that moment, he was delicate and soft,
and I couldn’t get enough of it. However, I was extremely aware of my pounding heart and burning
skin, convinced he’d already noticed how nervous and excited I was.
Drawing up all the courage I’d ever felt in my entire life, I put down my forgotten Lo Mein and
slowly snaked my arm behind his back. He moaned softly as my fingers grazed against the bare skin
of his hip. I almost pulled away, but he snuggled in closer to my side.
Adrenaline pumped through my system, and I could barely form a coherent thought. Instead, my mind
raced with a multitude of questions and ‘what-if’ scenarios. All I could do was stare out toward the
sunset, not really taking in any of it as Oliver’s shoulders slowly rose and fell with his breath. I was
too scared to say anything, worried I might ruin the moment.
“Charlie?” he whispered.
“Y-Yeah?”
He lifted his head, staring at me with those beautiful gray eyes. “Can… Can I kiss you?”
I thought I’d die right there. Much to my delight, I did not.
“Y-Yeah…” I muttered so softly I barely heard myself. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Y-Yes.”
Oliver reached up, his hand cupping the side of my face. He stopped there, looking at me for a
moment, his gaze seeing right through to the core of my soul. Heat flushed to my cheeks once again as
I felt unnecessarily embarrassed. Mostly about the extremely obvious bulge in the front of my jeans
that I was certain he’d been staring at for the past five minutes.
Before I could pass out from the anxiety, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. The moment
we connected, all the racing thoughts in my brain stopped. Electricity flowed down my spine as the
entire world around me disappeared. At that moment, there was nothing but Oliver and the touch of
his skin against mine. His tongue danced across my lips, and I opened up to him, our mouths exploring
one another.
I thought it would last forever. I definitely wanted it to. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced
before. Sure, I’d kissed a fair amount of guys in my time, but this was something else entirely. Even
with my ex, it hadn’t felt this good. It was like Oliver and I were connected on a level that I didn’t
understand. I had no words to describe it, only that it was incredible.
All too soon, he pulled away, and I realized I hadn’t taken a breath for the last minute.
“W-Wow…” I gasped. “That… was… something.”
“It r-really was…” he replied, clearly just as surprised as I was.
I glanced out toward the horizon, realizing the sun had set while we were locked together.
“We missed the green flash thing.”
Oliver grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me close. “I’d rather miss a hundred sunsets than miss
a kiss from you.”
His gaze was intense, and I knew he wasn’t lying. My eyes trailed down to the open buttons on his
shirt, his smooth, tanned chest peeking through. Before I could help myself, my gaze drifted even
lower to the obvious bulge in his jeans, the fabric straining under the pressure.
I wanted him.
“Charlie,” Oliver whispered, leaning close once more. “Please…”
My eyes shot back up to his, my heart racing.
“P-Please, what?”
“Please,” he said again, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “Take me.”
Without hesitation, I nodded, falling back on the blanket as our lips locked together once more.
 Fourteen: Oliver

I was on top of him before I could stop myself. My senses were on overdrive, and I could smell the
pheromones coming off him in waves. He’d been lusting after me since the moment he saw me at the
coffee shop. It had taken every ounce of will I had to resist him until now. But with my lips locked on
his and his engorged cock rubbing against my own through our jeans, I had no willpower left.
I needed him to fuck me.
Already, I was pulling at his shirt, popping the buttons open one by one as I continued to kiss him like
I never would again. I could hear his heart pounding in his chest, the adrenaline in his veins tickling
my taste buds. His rich honey aroma filled the air around us, unable to be blown away by the breeze. I
wanted that scent in my skin, driven so deeply into my pores that it would never come out. The wolf
inside of me just wanted to rub against him, coating my fur with his scent.
But the wolf had to remain a secret for now.
Instead, I ground my hips against his, desperate for friction as our tongues swirled around one
another. His fingers pulled at my shirt, finding their way underneath to bare skin. It was only a matter
of moments before I gave in, breaking our kiss only to pull my shirt off and toss it into the sand.
“You’re… so beautiful,” he said breathlessly.
I didn’t respond. Instead, I brought my mouth back down to his, biting his lower lip as I kissed him.
His hands continued exploring my body, his fingers tracing up my sides and across my back.
Eventually, his thumbs found my nipples, and I let out a small gasp.
“Fuck…” I muttered, pulling back for a moment.
Charlie glanced up at me. “Sensitive?”
I nodded. “Very.”
Without a second of hesitation, he leaned up on one elbow and wrapped his lips around my left
nipple, his tongue flicking back and forth across the sensitive flesh. I had to bite my lip to stop the
moans from escaping. Sitting back on my heels, he followed me up, his teeth lightly nibbling at my
puckered flesh. I dug my fingers into his back, doing everything I could not to pull away as the
sensations shot up and down my body. My hips took on a life of their own, grinding back and forth
against the bulge in his jeans.
Fuck I wanted him inside me.
Letting him continue to quite literally titillate me, I reached down, pulling his shirt open as well.
Underneath my hands met his beautiful pale flesh, his freckles cascading down his back where it had
been kissed by the sun. I could already feel his muscles coming back to life from just a couple of short
weeks in the gym. But there was still a softness to him that turned me on more than I could say. His
body was perfect.
But I didn’t stop there. My next move was to unbutton his jeans, carefully pulling the zipper down as
he continued to torture my nipples. I let out a soft moan as his teeth nipped me again, the mixture of
pain and pleasure too decadent to resist. However, I had to pull myself away from him to do what I
wanted to do next.
“My turn,” I muttered, giving him a quick kiss before pushing him back onto the blanket.
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
Under this view of the case the widespread popular belief, that
protecting the back of the head and upper neck from the direct rays
of the sun is useful against sunstroke, gains in significance, because
it is possible that local heating of the parts spoken of may occur and
aid in the production of inhibitory paralysis.

If this theory of thermic fever be correct, heat-exhaustion with

lowered temperature probably represents a sudden vaso-motor
palsy—i.e. a condition in which the exhausting effects of the heat
paralyzes not the inhibitory heat-centre, but the vaso-motor centres
in the medulla, since my experiments have shown that vaso-motor
palsy increases enormously the loss of animal heat and diminishes
its production.

In most cases of sunstroke death comes on gradually by arrest of

respiration, such arrest being without doubt due to direct paralysis of
the respiratory centres by the excess of heat. Allusion has already
been made to the cases of sudden death by cardiac arrest, which
have especially been seen in India, almost always during a march or
during a battle. “As an example of it may be cited the account given
by a witness to Parkes, and incorporated in his work on hygiene,13 of
an occurrence during the first Chinese war. The Ninety-eighth
regiment was marching on a very hot day, and the surgeon who was
with the rear-guard stated to Parkes that the men fell suddenly on
their faces as though struck with lightning, and on his running up and
turning them over many of them were already dead. Maclean, who
was present at this occurrence, confirms the account given by
Parkes, but states that it was at the attack on Chiang-Kiang-Foo.
The men were thickly clothed, with tight accoutrements and tight,
rigid stocks, and were charging up a very steep hill. A great number
of them were stricken down, and fifteen died instantly, falling on their
faces and giving merely a few convulsive gasps.”
13 Pract. Hygiene, 2d ed., p. 360.

It has been shown that excessive exercise so alters the condition of

the myosin of muscle as to cause it to coagulate much more readily
than normal. During battle the amount of muscular effort that is made
is enormous, and hence it is that men are so often found stiffened in
the attitude in which they were struck by the bullet, instantaneous
death being followed by equally instantaneous post-mortem rigidity.
The description that has been given by Parkes and Maclean of the
circumstances in which the sudden deaths just described occurred
shows that the heart-muscles must have been strained to their
utmost limit. The men were making violent exercise going up hill, so
that the heart must have been in exceedingly active exertion,
increased by the impediment to the circulation afforded by the tight
accoutrements, and under these circumstances the victims probably
died instantly because the heart-muscle suddenly set itself from life
into the stiffness of death.

The DIAGNOSIS of thermic fever is usually made with great readiness.

In distinguishing between it and heat-exhaustion the temperature of
the body is the guide. In apoplexy with high temperature it is possible
that a little embarrassment might be experienced, but in apoplexy
the high temperature follows the nervous symptoms after a distinct
interval, but in thermic fever it precedes the unconsciousness. An
apoplexy may develop during a sunstroke, but such occurrence is
rare. T. S——, now under my care, has had frequently repeated
attacks of local convulsions affecting two fingers of the right hand,
and one general epileptic attack whilst under observation. He dates
his illness to a sunstroke on July 7, 1885, and O. D. Robinson of
Georgetown, Delaware, writes me that the attack was undoubtedly
true thermic fever, and that the movements of the fingers came on
whilst the patient was recovering consciousness. It is probable,
therefore, that there was a rupture of a small vessel in the brain-
cortex during the sunstroke. The appearance of local convulsions or
of localized paralysis during a sunstroke would be good ground for
believing that either a clot or a thrombus had formed.

PROPHYLAXIS AND TREATMENT.—The prophylaxis of sunstroke is so

evident in its nature that it may be dismissed in a few words. When
exposure to heat is imperative the bodily health should be
maintained by avoidance of alcoholic, sexual, or other excesses,
and, as far as possible, of great bodily or mental fatigue; the diet
should be almost purely farinaceous, and the glandular apparatus of
the bowels, kidneys, and skin kept in an active state by the use of
fruit, water in abundance, and mild salines if necessary. Many
persons have a very strong prejudice against the drinking of cold
water during exposure to heat; and it is conceivable that large
draughts of intensely cold ice-water may do harm by suddenly
chilling the stomach; but when the water is taken in small quantities
at short intervals, by its action in reducing the general temperature,
but especially by its rendering free perspiration more easy, it must
exert a most favorable influence. The addition of claret or some other
local stimulant to the water is often of great service when there is a
tendency to gastric or intestinal depression.

In the mild cases of continued thermic fever the basis of the

treatment should be the use of the cold bath. The plan adopted by
Guiteras at Key West was to wrap the patient in a dry sheet, lift him
into a tub of water, having the temperature between 80° and 85°,
and then rapidly cool this water by means of ice. The time of the
immersion lasted from fifty to fifty-five minutes, it being regulated by
the thermometer in the mouth of the patient. The patient was then
lifted out upon a blanket, the skin partially dried, and the body
covered. Guiteras found great advantage by giving a moderate dose
of whiskey and thirty minims of the tincture of digitalis twenty minutes
before the bath. He states that it is very important to avoid currents
of air blowing upon the patient and to have the bath given in a small
warm room. The result of the bath was invariably a lowering of the
temperature, a reduction of the rate of pulse and respiration, and a
refreshing sleep. After the second bath the course of the
temperature seemed permanently influenced for the better. It was
never necessary to give more than two baths in the twenty-four
hours, but in some cases they had to be used for many days.

In the severe acute form of thermic fever it is essential that the bodily
temperature be reduced at once, and no time should be lost waiting
for a physician. As soon as the patient falls he should be carried into
the shade with the least possible delay, his clothing removed, and
cold affusions over the chest and body be practised. This must not
be done timidly or grudgingly, but most freely. In many cases the
best resort will be the neighboring pump. In the large cities of the
United States during the hot weather hospital ambulances should be
furnished with a medical attendant and with ice and antipyrin, so that
when a sunstroke patient is reached he may be immediately stripped
underneath the cover of the ambulance and remedial measures
applied during his passage to the hospital. I believe many lives are
now sacrificed by the loss of critical moments in the interval between
the finding of the patient and his reaching the hospital ward.

If circumstances favor, instead of the cold affusions, rubbing with ice

may be practised. The patient should be stripped and the whole
body freely rubbed with large masses of ice. When practicable, a still
better plan is to place the patient in the cold bath (50° F.) The
employment of enemata of ice-water, as originally suggested by
Parkes, may sometimes be opportune.

In using these various measures it must always be borne in mind

that the indication is the reduction of temperature: if the means
employed do not accomplish this, they do no good.

Relaxation of the pupil is said to be “the first symptom that shows the
good of the cold affusion;”14 but as, in my experience, the pupil
frequently has not been contracted, reliance cannot be placed upon
this, and the thermometer in the mouth or the rectum affords the only
proper guide as to the effect of the treatment.
14 Aitken, Practice of Medicine, vol. ii. p. 394.

It must be borne in mind, however, that the cold douche, cold

bathing, etc. are powerful remedies, and are capable, if used too
long, of doing harm. In my experiments upon animals I have seen
the temperature, when reduced by the cold bath after sunstroke,
continue to fall, after the animal had been taken out of the water,
until it was many degrees below normal.

In the cases which have come under my own observation after the
use of the cold bath but little treatment has been required. If,
however, the period of insensibility has lasted too long, there may be
no return to consciousness, even though the bodily temperature be
reduced to the norm. Under such circumstances the case is almost
hopeless, and I know of no treatment other than that of meeting the
symptoms as they arise, excepting that a large blister should, in my
opinion, be applied to the whole of the shaved surface of the scalp.

After the temperature has been reduced, and even after

consciousness has returned, there is sometimes a great tendency to
a fresh rise of temperature, and consequent relapse. This tendency
may be met by wrappings in wet sheets, and, if necessary, by a
recourse to the more powerful measures for reduction of
temperature which have been already cited. It can be to some extent
controlled by the use of quinine, ten grains of which may be given
hypodermically. During the heated term of the summer of 1885
antipyrin has been used both in New York15 and in Philadelphia16
with asserted most excellent results; and the testimony is so strong
that I think it should always be employed as an aid to, not as a
substitute for, the direct extraction of the bodily heat. It should be
given hypodermically, as soon as the patient is found, in doses of
from fifteen to thirty grains.
15 B. F. Westbrook, New York Med. Journal, July 25, 1883.

16 Orville Horwitz, Trans. College of Physicians of Philada., Oct., 1885.

In cases complicated with repeated severe convulsions, hypodermic

injections of one-quarter of a grain of morphia have been very
frequently given in the Pennsylvania Hospital, with excellent results.
In such patients the use of anæsthetics to facilitate the giving of cold
baths would be very proper, but so long as the temperature is high
nothing should be allowed to substitute the external cold.

Severe headache and other evidences of cerebral inflammation,

manifesting themselves directly after the recovery of consciousness,
should be met by local or even general bleeding, blistering, the use
of arterial sedatives, mercurials, etc.; or, in other words, by the
treatment of cerebral inflammation from other causes adapted to the
exigencies of the individual case.

Formerly, venesection was largely practised in sunstroke, with

occasional excellent effects, but with, on the whole, very bad results.
As free bleeding lowers temperature markedly, it can be readily
understood that in some cases it might bring about a return of
consciousness and yet be a very improper remedy. If in any instance
sthenic apoplectic symptoms persist after the lowering of the bodily
temperature by the bath, venesection should be carefully
considered. There are cases of sunstroke in which the high
temperature irritates the brain or its membranes into an acute
congestion or inflammation. These complications are especially
prone to occur when the high temperature has been allowed to
continue for a long time. A case of this character, in which the
autopsy revealed proof of the presence of an acute meningitis, may
be found on p. 121 of my book on Thermic Fever. When, then, the
patient has a tendency to excessive headache and continuous fever,
bleeding may become an essential remedy, not for the cure of
thermic fever, but of the cerebral inflammation which has been
produced by that fever. The case of S. Weir Mitchell is in point. In his
early manhood he had a sunstroke, and when consciousness began
to return “the first sensation was that of an intense, agonizing
headache, and the next was the perception of his father—J. K.
Mitchell—and Mütter discussing the possibility of his recovery. As
soon as he could speak, he said, ‘Bleed me.’ His father, coming to
the bed, shook his head, but the son repeated, ‘Bleed me.’ He
persisted in simply repeating this until they thought him delirious; but
at last he mustered strength to say, ‘I am not delirious, but have a
frightful headache: if you don't bleed me I will die.’ By this time his
pulse had become full and bounding, and finally he sat up and was
bled. Ten or fifteen ounces were taken without avail; but as more
blood flowed the headache vanished, to be succeeded by a feeling
of most delightful languor and rest from pain. Between twenty-five
and thirty ounces were taken, and afterward recovery was a very
simple matter.”
That Mitchell by the bleeding was saved from meningitis appears
almost certain, but it is most probable that if he had been primarily
immersed in a cold bath no bleeding would have been required.

SEQUELÆ.—Almost all persons who have had a coup de soleil suffer

from after-effects. In the mildest form these are inability to bear
exposure to heat without cerebral distress or pain, with more or less
marked failure of general vigor, dyspeptic symptoms, and other
indications of disturbed innervation. In other cases the symptoms are
more decided. Pain in the head is usually prominent: it may be
almost constant for months, but is always subject to exacerbations. It
sometimes seems to fill the whole cranium, but not rarely is fixed to
one spot; and I have seen it associated with pain in the upper
cervical spine and decided stiffness of the muscles of the neck. With
it may be vertigo, decided failure of memory and of the power of
fixing the attention, with excessive irritability. When the symptoms
approach this point in severity, there is usually marked lowering of
the general health, loss of strength, possibly some emaciation, and
the peculiar invalid look produced by chronic disease.

Epileptic convulsions occasionally follow a sunstroke, but, at least in

my experience, are always associated with more constant evidences
of cerebral disease.

A pathognomonic symptom in the sequelæ of sunstroke is the effect

of heat. The glare and heat of summer are the most trying, but
usually artificial heat is not well borne. It is very common for
headache and severe general distress to be produced by going into
a warm room even in the winter months. Where cerebral symptoms
are affirmed to be the result of a sunstroke, if there be no excessive
susceptibility to heat the alleged sunstroke has almost certainly been
an attack of some other nature; and on several occasions I have
been enabled to determine that a supposed epileptic attack or a fall
followed by unconsciousness from violence was really a sunstroke
by noting the extreme susceptibility to heat. The symptom I believe
to be a diagnostic one.
The lesion in these cases is usually chronic meningitis, though it is
possible that in some instances the gray matter rather than the
membrane of the brain may be affected, and in severe cases the
gray matter is of course more or less compromised. In one case
occurring in the care of S. Weir Mitchell, and in one in my own
practice in which death occurred from extraneous causes, severe
chronic meningitis was found at the autopsy.

The TREATMENT of these cases is that of chronic meningitis, with the

added precautions against exposure to heat. In any severe case
change of habitation to a cool climate during the hot period of the
year is essential: twenty-four hours' exposure may undo all the good
achieved by months of careful treatment.

It is hardly proper here to enter into a detailed discussion of the

remedial measures to be employed in this as in the other forms of
non-specific chronic meningitis. Local bleedings, the use of counter-
irritation, especially by the actual cautery, the internal administration
of mercurials and of iodide of potassium in small continued doses,
with abstinence from brain-work and the regulation of the habits of
life, constitute an array of measures which will no doubt be fully
discussed by the author of the article upon Chronic Meningitis.

Provided the patient can be entirely controlled, the PROGNOSIS in

these cases is not so bad as at first it appears to be. As an instance
of a remarkable recovery I condense from my notebook the case of
T. W. H——, aged 49, who came under my care with a history that
two years previously he had been seized during a hot day in the
summer with a very violent headache, which continued for five
weeks, confining him to bed, and was associated, as he said, with
fever, but no other symptoms. This attack had been diagnosed by
several physicians variously, but as I found that he was excessively
affected by any exposure to the sun, was always worse in summer,
and that in winter his symptoms were extremely exaggerated even
by such heat in a room as is agreeable to many persons, I concluded
that the original attack had really been one of thermic fever. He had
lost about forty pounds in weight; his memory had become so bad
for recent events that he could not call to mind things which had
transpired one or two hours previously. Sight had failed much, and
there was double vision. He suffered from almost incessant dull
headache and excessive general wretchedness; the optic discs were
slightly swollen, and one of the margins obscured. There was no
albuminuria, and the dyspeptic symptoms were so bad that the man
had been treated for months for dyspepsia. Nine months of
treatment sufficed to restore this patient almost to his original health.
The treatment consisted essentially in the alternate administration of
minute doses of calomel and of iodide of potassium—in the meeting
of various minor symptoms as they arose, but chiefly in the
persistent, merciless use of counter-irritation at the nape of the neck.
The actual cautery was applied every one or two weeks, and
antimonial ointment freely used on the burnt surface.

HEADACHE.
 BY WHARTON SINKLER, M.D.

SYNONYMS.—Cephalalgia, Cephalœa.

It is not possible to give in a few pages a complete treatise on

headache, and it is therefore intended merely to describe the most
common types of this malady.

Many forms of headache are symptomatic of some organic cerebral

disease, like tumor of the brain or syphilitic diseases of the skull.
Headache also constantly accompanies fevers of all kinds. A great
number of cases are met with in which no cause for the headache
can be discovered, and in which the pain is the only symptom. In
these there must be some disordered state of the sensory nerves
within the cranium, but just what the nature of the abnormal condition
is it is impossible to decide.

The character of the pain in headaches is various. In some cases

there is a violent general pain over the entire head. In others the pain
is localized in one particular spot, feeling as if a nail were being
driven into the skull. This is called clavus, and is often met with in
hysterical patients.

Patients sometimes describe the head as feeling as if it were splitting

open, or, again, as if it were being compressed. The pain may
involve one side of the head alone, hemicrania, or it may be only in
the back of the head. The top of the head is a frequent seat of pain,
especially in women who have uterine disorders. In short, the pain
may be in any or every portion of the head, or it may move about
from place to place.

In almost all varieties of headache the pain is aggravated by noises

or strong light. Any movements of the patient increase it, and
coughing, sneezing, or straining—as, for instance, at stool—adds to
the suffering. Tapping on the head usually does not increase the
pain, and in some instances alleviates it.

Accompanying the headache is a variety of other symptoms: some

of them are nervous, while others are not. There are often
disturbances of vision, such as bright spots or zigzags before the
eyes; and there may be ringing in the ears; palpitation or slowing of
the heart. Nausea occurs in most varieties of headache, and a
feeling of general prostration or nervous excitability is often
experienced both during and after an attack.

The duration of an attack of headache varies from a few minutes to

days or even months: one occasionally sees a patient who says she
has not known what it is to have been without pain in the head for
years.

The character of the pain may be either a dull aching or it may be

excessively intense, so as to cause temporary aberration of mind. As
to the structures within the cranium in which the pain is located, it is
a mooted question. Some writers believe the dura mater may be the
seat of pain in headaches, while other observers have declared this
membrane to be insensitive. Probably the intracranial branches of
the fifth pair of nerves are the principal site of pain.

We will now consider particularly the different varieties of headache

most commonly met with.

ANÆMIC HEADACHE.—The pain is of a dull kind, often diffused over the

head, but frequently in the vertex or temples. It occurs in weak, thin-
blooded persons, and is relieved by the recumbent position. If the
patient is sitting or walking, the pain becomes worse, and there is a
sense of faintness or dizziness. Women are the most common
sufferers from this form of cephalalgia, and uterine diseases or
disorders of menstruation are connected with it. It is associated with
palpitations of the heart, difficulty of breathing, a tendency to faint,
and general weakness. Anything which exhausts the nervous
system, like over-study or anxiety, loss of rest and sleep, is likely to
bring on an attack.

CONGESTIVE (HYPERÆMIC) HEADACHE.—In this variety of headache,

which is common, the pain seems to affect the whole head and is of
a dull, throbbing character. The recumbent position aggravates it, as
does coughing or straining. During the paroxysm the face is flushed,
the eyes suffused, and the arteries throb violently. Sleep relieves the
pain of a hyperæmic headache for a time, but as soon as the patient
begins to move about, or even to exercise the mind, the pain returns.
Erb1 speaks of a violent pain in the brow and temple, with a sense of
pressure and fulness in the head, and heat and redness in the face
and ears. This form may come in regular paroxysms. He has seen
one case of this kind in which there was violent pain accompanied by
fainting, and intense redness of the brow and vertex was observed.
1 Cyclopædia of the Practice of Medicine (Ziemssen), vol. xiv. p. 140.

THE HEADACHE OF HYSTERIA is usually seen in females, although it

may occur in males. It is sometimes general throughout the head,
but is often located in one spot (clavus), and is very intense. The
seat of clavus hystericus is at the top of the head to one side of the
sagittal suture. The pain is described as boring, gnawing, and
burning. The headache is more severe at the menstrual period, and
is increased by worry or trivial excitement. Nervous and hysterical
subjects complain of headache which never ceases.

TOXIC HEADACHES are the result of the introduction into the system of
various kinds of poisons. The headache following alcoholic excesses
is a well-known instance of this kind. The pain, which is deep-seated
and often intense, is supposed to be in the sensory nerves of the
dura mater. Other forms of chronic poisoning give rise to headache.
Lead, when retained in the system, produces headache, and so do
many of the narcotic drugs. In some persons the administration of
iron always causes pain in the head. The headache following a dose
of opium is familiar to all. The excessive use of tobacco is often
followed by dull headache next day. The intense pain in the head
caused by uræmic poisoning is a well-marked symptom of this
condition. Seguin has lately well described the headache of uræmia.2
2 Archives of Medicine, vol. iv. p. 102.

RHEUMATIC HEADACHE is often violent, and the pain seems to be

located in the head-muscles. It occurs in rheumatic subjects. It is
brought on by exposure to cold, and is increased by damp changes
in the weather. In acute rheumatism there are sometimes met with
attacks of intense headache. Headache also is associated with the
gouty cachexia, and is accompanied usually by depression of spirits
and sometimes vertigo.

PYREXIAL HEADACHES.—In all of the acute fevers headache is a

prominent initial symptom, and usually continues throughout the
course of the disease. The pain is generally dull and deep-seated,
and is probably congestive in character. The headache of typhoid
fever is constant, and often precedes the fever by many days.
Following an attack of typhoid fever, it is not infrequent to find
headache persisting for months or even for years.

SYPHILITIC HEADACHE is one of the most violent forms of headache.

The pain is diffused or limited to one part of the head, and is
associated with tenderness of the scalp. It becomes most severe at
night, but never entirely intermits. The nocturnal exacerbations,
although very common, do not always occur. The pain is so violent
and so constant that the patient is unable to do any work or to
occupy himself in any way. There is great mental depression, and
the patient becomes gloomy and morose. The pain may be dull and
heavy or acute and lancinating; sometimes it is like a succession of
heavy blows on the skull. During a severe paroxysm of pain the
scalp becomes so sensitive that the lightest touch cannot be borne.
The sufferer is unable to sleep, and presents a worn, haggard
appearance. Often he has hallucinations at night. Syphilitic
headache is often a forerunner of some form of organic cerebral
disease. One of the characteristic features of syphilitic headache is
its constancy. It never ceases entirely, although at times there are
paroxysms in which the pain is so intense as to cause great agony.
During the little sleep the patient is able to get he is moaning or
tossing about his bed. Minute doses of mercury, repeated at short
intervals, have been found to afford great relief in headaches of this
kind.

ORGANIC HEADACHE may be described as the headache which

accompanies organic disease of the brain or its membranes. Violent
pain, seated in one spot and constant in character, is one of the most
unvarying symptoms of tumors within the cranium. Brain tumors may
exist without headache, but rarely. The pain may be situated in any
part of the head: sometimes it is occipital and sometimes frontal, and
occasionally it extends over the entire head. It does not always
correspond to the seat of the disease. The pain is constant and
lasting, and, like syphilitic headache, is liable to exacerbations of
excessive violence. These often occur at night. Localized tenderness
of the scalp is often present, and percussing the skull over the seat
of the disease will increase the pain.

Disease of the membranes of the brain, such as meningitis or new

growths in the dura mater, will give rise to persistent headache. So
will caries or any syphilitic affections of the skull. Catarrhal
inflammation of the frontal sinuses causes dull frontal pain. In
inflammatory diseases of the ear there is often headache. In these
latter conditions the cephalalgia is probably reflex.

NEURASTHENIC HEADACHE is more or less allied to the hysterical

headache. It is met with in persons who are run down in their
nervous system by mental worry or overwork—in other words, in
persons who are suffering from neurasthenia. Such patients describe
the pain as being constant and deep-seated—seldom acute, but dull
and throbbing. It is accompanied by a sense of weight and pressure
on the vertex, and sometimes by a feeling of constriction. Mental
effort increases the pain, and the patient usually prefers solitude and
quiet on account of the relief he obtains. The headache of
neurasthenia often persists after other symptoms of the affection
have disappeared.
SYMPATHETIC HEADACHE is generally connected with disorders of the
digestive and sexual organs. The headache of ovarian disease is
well known to gynæcologists, and most of us have experienced the
pain in the head associated with gastric disturbances. The headache
from eye-strain may be considered in this connection, and deserves
careful consideration. Many persons have suffered from headaches
for years from this cause without its being suspected. Weir Mitchell
brought prominently to notice the frequency with which headaches
may be caused by defects of vision.3 The fact had been long known
to oculists that disorders of the refractive apparatus of the eye would
give rise to cerebral discomfort and pain, but it had not before
occurred to physicians to look to defects of the eye to explain
headaches whose cause was obscure. The points made by Mitchell
were—1, that many headaches are caused indirectly by defects of
refraction or accommodation; 2, that in these instances the brain
symptom is often the only prominent symptom of the eye trouble, so
that there may be no ocular pain, but the strain of the eye-muscles is
expressed solely in frontal or occipital headache; 3, that long-
continued eye troubles may be the unsuspected cause of insomnia,
vertigo, and nausea; 4, that in many cases the eye trouble becomes
suddenly injurious, owing to break-down in the general health or to
increased sensitiveness of the brain from mental or moral causes.
3 Med. and Surg. Reporter, Aug. 1, 1874, and Amer. Journ. of the Med. Sci., April,
1876.

Occasionally the form of headache produced by eye-strain is a

migraine, but most commonly there is a steady frontal or occipital
pain, which comes on after undue use of the eyes, which are
defective as to refraction or accommodation. Accompanying the pain
are sometimes nausea and occasionally vertigo. It is not only over-
use of astigmatic eyes in reading or other near work which causes
the cerebral disorders, but the use of the eyes in the ordinary walks
of life may produce pain in a sensitive brain should there be any
imperfection in refraction or accommodation.
HEADACHE FROM SUNSTROKE.—A person who has had an attack of
sunstroke often suffers from headache for years. The attacks are
most likely to occur from exposure to the sun and in summer
months, but they are brought on in some individuals even in winter
should they be in the sun. Sometimes heat-exhaustion or exposure
to the influence of the sun in hot weather, even should there be no
actual sunstroke, is followed for a long time by violent headaches.
Persons who have suffered in this way have to be extremely careful
about exposing themselves to the sun or they will have severe and
prostrating pains in the head. The cephalalgia in these cases is
probably from congestion of the cerebral meninges or some
disturbance of the submeningeal gray matter of the brain. The pain is
usually frontal or on the top of the head. Sometimes it is confined to
one side of the head. Mitchell4 has seen two cases in which this form
of headache was relieved by ligature of the temporal arteries.
4 Med. and Surg. Reporter, July 25, 1874.

HEADACHE OF CHILDHOOD.—Children often suffer from headaches

unconnected with meningitis or other organic brain trouble. Over-use
of the brain in study is a frequent source of headache, in children
especially, if associated with worry or anxiety. If a child complains of
headache after study, it is always important to examine the eyes for
defects of vision; but while this is often found to be the cause of the
headache, in many cases there will be discovered no errors of
refraction sufficient to account for the pain; and here the only relief
will be to take the child from school and give him plenty of exercise
and fresh air.

Another cause of headaches in children is hypertrophied tonsils,

which prevent the free return of blood from the brain. Children also
suffer from headaches from over-eating or improper food, or from
over-exercise in the sun. Migraine, as will be seen later, is a disease
which often begins in early childhood, and a child may suffer from
frequent attacks of headache of this nature for a long time before
they are understood.
Children who are precocious in any way are apt to be sufferers from
neuralgias and headaches; but sexual precocity especially
predisposes to headaches of the type of migraine. Anstie5 goes so
far as to say that the existence of a severe neuralgic affection in a
young child, if it be not due to tubercle or to other organic brain
disease, is, primâ facie, ground for suspecting precocious sexual
irritation.
5 Neuralgia and Diseases that Resemble it, p. 31.

Hillier6 observes that anæmic children from seven to ten years of age
frequently suffer from neuralgic headache, and that girls between
eight and twelve have violent headaches accompanied by nausea
and vomiting (migraine).
6 Diseases of Children, p. 194.

HEADACHE FROM DYSPEPSIA.—Persons who have indigestion have

more or less headache, either in paroxysms or as a constant pain.
The pain is either frontal or occipital, and may affect the whole head;
but it is not confined to one side of the head, as in migraine. The
pain is usually dull, and is accompanied by nausea from the
beginning of the attack. The tongue is coated, and has red edges,
and there are general evidences of gastric disturbance, together with
a history of some indiscretion in diet. Sleeping does not always
relieve the headache.

DIAGNOSIS.—The diagnosis of the different forms of headache may

be made by considering the symptoms. All of the means at our
command should be used to carefully distinguish the variety of
headache we have to deal with. The head should be palpated for
tender or swollen and soft spots, such as are found often in syphilitic
headaches. Sometimes percussion of the head will give us some
indications as to the kind of headache which exists. The eyes should
be examined ophthalmoscopically for changes in the fundus oculi,
and the vision should be tested for errors of refraction should there
be any reason to connect the pain with the use of the eyes. Inquiry
into the habits, occupation, and family history of the patient will aid in
arriving at a correct diagnosis.

TREATMENT.—Having reached a correct diagnosis, the treatment will

naturally be directed to the special form of headache with which we
have to deal. The indications vary more or less with the different
varieties, but in all the same object is in view; that is, the relief of
pain in the paroxysms, and the breaking up of the diseased condition
which leads to the attacks. The means to be used for the former will
be considered in the treatment of Migraine, and are more or less
applicable to the treatment of all forms of headache.

In children, if no ocular cause is present, it will often be necessary to

take them from school and study, and make them take plenty of
exercise in the fresh air.

In all varieties of cephalalgia change of climate and travel exert a

most beneficial influence. The seashore does not always benefit
sufferers from headache, and sometimes the sea air seems to
increase the pain.

Migraine.

SYNONYMS.—Hemicrania, Sick headache.

This form of headache is of great importance, from the frequency

with which it is met in practice. It occurs in paroxysms at longer or
shorter intervals, but the attacks come at periods of tolerable
regularity, and, generally speaking, the intervals are entirely free
from pain. From the name hemicrania it may be inferred that the pain
is confined to one side of the head. This is often the case, but is not
invariably the rule.

Migraine has been known for many years, and the term hemicrania
is used by the old writers. Until recently, however, there has been
some confusion regarding it. Hemicrania often meant trigeminal
neuralgia, and nervous sick headache was generally believed to
have its origin in the stomach or to be the result of biliousness. Of
late years the disease has come to be better understood, and the
valuable works of Liveing, Anstie, and others have given a full
literature of the subject.

Various conditions predispose to migraine, and of these the foremost

are period of life and hereditary influence. Sex also bears a part in
the etiology. The majority of patients who are victims of migraine are
females. Eulenburg7 states that the proportion is about 5 to 1 in favor
of females. My own experience would lead me to believe that in this
country the preponderance of migraine in females is not so great.
Men are not so likely to consult a physician about headaches, unless
they become very frequent and severe; especially is this true of the
laboring classes, from whom Eulenburg's statistics were mainly
taken. It is true that women are especially prone to neuroses of
various kinds through menstrual disorders and at the time of the
climacteric, but these do not always take the form of migraine.
7 Ziemssen's Cyclopædia, vol. xiv. p. 5.

Age has a decided influence on the production of migraine.

Sometimes the attacks begin in very young children. Eulenburg
mentions cases at four or five years. It is during the period of bodily
development that the first outbreaks of migraine occur, but more
particularly do they set in in both sexes at puberty, a time when
sexual development is active and making a strong impression on the
whole nervous system. Should migraine become established at this
time, it will probably continue to harass the individual until he is forty-
five or fifty years of age. After the development of puberty migraine is
not likely to originate; indeed, Tissot8 declares that a person who is
not attacked by migraine before his twenty-fifth year will escape from
it for the rest of his life. It certainly is the case that in later life this
affection is much more rare than earlier, as many of the old cases
get well and new ones scarcely ever develop. It is a common thing to
hear a patient who has reached the age of fifty extolling some new
system or remedy as a cure for his headaches, from which he has
suffered all his life, when in reality the attacks have ceased or
become infrequent on account of the natural course of the disease.
8 Quoted by Eulenburg, op. cit.

Hereditation markedly affects the production of migraine. Eulenburg

states that it follows the female line, and is inherited from the mother
only; but this is surely a mistake, as we often see males whose
fathers suffered from migraine. Persons whose ancestors were of a
neurotic type, who suffered from neuralgias, paralysis, hysteria,
insanity, etc., are particularly liable to migraine. Epilepsy is also likely
to be in the family of an individual who has migraine. There has been
observed by many writers the association of migraine and epilepsy in
the same person. Epileptics who are predisposed to the disease by
inheritance are likely to have attacks of it preceding the outbreak of
epilepsy. In families of constitutional nervous tendencies it is
common to see certain members who have hemicrania, while others
have epilepsy or are insane.

Other predisposing causes in migraine are not so marked as those

already mentioned. Station in life exerts but little influence in the
causation of the disease. It is met with as often in the laboring
classes as in the wealthy. Those who use the brain to any extent in
study or business are likely to suffer more often from migraine than
those who lead an outdoor life with much physical exercise. Habitual
loss of sleep and anxiety also predispose to it.

As to the conditions connected with the immediate production of an

attack of migraine, we are in ignorance. It has been thought to
depend upon disorders in the circulation of the blood, but then the
question arises, Whence these disturbances of circulation? Probably
those circulatory disorders which are marked in every case are effect
rather than cause of the attack. Indigestion and biliousness must be
admitted to favor outbreaks of migraine.

SYMPTOMS.—Migraine occurs at intervals of one or two weeks or

longer; often the attacks are not more frequent than every month or