Page 2 of The Wolf's Bullied Mate
“Ray.” I stared into my child’s sad eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
Ray frowned. “No, Mom, what are you sorry for?”
I sighed. “That you have to suffer because of me.”
My kid shook his head. “I’ll be alright. But I can’t stand anybody saying bad words about you, Mom. I love you. You’re the best, Mom. Don’t feel down. It’s going to be okay.” Through teary eyes, he smiled and put a hand on my cheek.
My mouth gaped open. My own kid, so young, was comforting me. His love for me meant the world to me. In this hostile reality, having someone who cared for me felt good, someone I, too, could love and protect in return.
I would have to shield my son from any further bullying. It was one thing if the kids’ parents went after me—I could manage their taunting. However, having their children speak badly of me to my son was a step too far. Ray shouldn’t be made to cry because of my own shortcomings. I was a weak wolf; that much was true. The fact that Ray’s father didn’t want to mate with me was also true. As to his reasons for not wanting me, though, that information shouldn’t concern anybody but Jeffrey and myself.
As the reality of what had happened to Ray today settled in my heart, I couldn’t help but remember my own bullying from years ago. In my teenage years, I, too, had been the victim of my peer’s abuse, so I knew how much being belittled and called names could hurt.
Back then, I was part of another pack, Moondust Hollow. I was friends with many people in my teenage years, or so I believed. I had trouble connecting with others on my own, but one person was always around me, inviting me to social gatherings—Oliver Norton. I relied on him, and, truth be told, I had a little crush on him.
Oliver had light blonde hair curled slightly at the ends and sparkling blue eyes. He always had an intelligent comment at hand or a fitting joke. People loved being around him because he had a lot of charisma and was easy to talk to about anything. He really drew people toward him, the exact opposite of me, who was always shy and withdrawn when it came to social interactions.
Somehow, Oliver and I became friends and hung out together often.
However, one day he found out about my special ability—or, as I preferred to call it, my curse. I was something rare for a wolf shifter—a psychic, a seer, someone with visions of the future. They happened every few months and helped me navigate life. I couldn’t control them. Sometimes, important events in my life happened, but there was no vision before them to guide me toward the perfect choice. Or sometimes, the visions were about nothing significant.
A useless ability, if you asked me, but the longer I lived, the more I learned how to make the best of my selective seeing of the future. I still had the visions to this day, and I had learned to appreciate them more now that they sometimes helped me live my life with Ray safely.
However, as a teenager I hated my skill. Seeing the future meant I was different than everybody else, and all I wanted was to fit in.
One day, Oliver saw me have a vision—I would stare into the distance with an absentminded look and freeze for a few heartbeats. It happened in front of all my friends, as we were eating lunch by a tree on the school grounds—our favorite spot. Oliver said in a joking manner that not only was I a freak because of my looks—he often teased me about my hair color and freckles—but I was a weirdo because I could see the future.
I saw a mean twinkle in his eye; he enjoyed saying those hurtful words. My heart fell. I had believed this man to be my friend and yet he had hurt me so profoundly.
My other so-called friends joined in on the bullying. They were afraid of me because of my ability. I could see the fear in their eyes. Eventually, they shunned me for being different.
My life turned into hell, then. I couldn’t take a step in school without being called names. People whispered behind my back and hushed when I looked at them. I avoided Oliver and therest of our group, but staying away from them didn’t help much when they quickly spread rumors to all of my peers.
The whole school knew I was a freak.
When I graduated high school, my parents decided to move to a different pack, where we lived now. I had not told anybody here about my visions. Yet, people still found reason to belittle me.
I didn’t want Ray to go through the same pain as I had. I didn’t want him to be bullied because of me. I knew too well how painful being a social outcast was.
I had to find a way to stop the bullying before it escalated.
“I’m going to talk to your teacher.” I kissed the top of my child’s head. “Come on, let’s go into the classroom.”
Ray looked hesitant, giving the open door behind him a wary look, but then he nodded. I took his hand and led him into the room.
The teacher, Mrs. Hammond, was putting up the chairs on the tables so that the cleaning lady would have an easier time cleaning the floor when she arrived soon.
Mrs. Hammond gave me a dismissive look, looking at me then past me like I didn’t exist at all.
I took in a breath, steeling my resolve. This kind of treatment from others happened to me from time to time. They ignored me, and didn’t see me as anybody significant. It hurt less than being belittled, but I would have rather had the woman’s full attention in this case.
“Mrs. Hammond,” I called to her, stepping farther into the room.
Ray dropped my hand and clung to my leg instead. I could see the distrust towards the teacher in his eyes. I didn’t like what seemed to be going through my son’s head at the moment. Had Mrs. Hammond joined in on the bullying, or did Ray just not like her anymore because she had done nothing to prevent it? Iwould have to get Ray to open up to me about exactly what had happened once we returned home.
“Yes, what is it?” The woman finally turned to me with a sigh, as if talking to me was burdensome. She had a deep scowl on her face.
“I heard from Ray about the bullying that happened today-” I started, but she raised a hand, interrupting me.
