It Can't Be

Beowulf could not ignore what he had just experienced. He had never felt something as intense as that. So, why had he run? He asked himself. Was this what his father had been talking about whenever he called him timid? What had he been afraid of?

From her smell, Beowulf Sandulf already knew that she was human. But that feeling -- no -- it couldn't be -- or could it?

Beowulf stood in a particular position as his mind twirled and twirled.

Beowulf knew that was not the case. And he thought he knew what he had just felt. But, how could that be? Who was that person that had come into his space and made him feel so perturbed? Who was he going to talk to about this? His mother? Beowulf hardly[y saw her without his father being present -- joust to make his life hell and remind him of how he wasn't su[p[osed to be his son.

Funny is it not?

He moved. Beowulf moved for the first time in minutes since he had returned from what he thought was his alone time. His full dark brows creased as he wondered what the lady had been doing there, far away from where the humans dealt. And even farther from the boundary that had been set for both the werewolves and the humans.

Beowulf got more confused when he noticed that he felt care and was concerned for the stranger that he didn't even know what she was called.

He had run. And Beowulf had never been so ashamed in his entire life -- not even when his father humiliated him in front of his subjects.

He found himself in front of his mirror that stood high beside where he kept his easel and paintings. This was what he did most of the time that he spent at home. He spent a certain amount of time looking at his reflection and wondering what was so off about him that infuriated Saku Sandulf so?

However, now, at that point, Beowulf found himself wondering about something -- or could he say someone in particular. And he was worried. He could not shake off what he was undeniably feeling and the person that had triggered such within him. This was something that was going to cause yet another issue between his father, his brothers, and himself. Nonetheless, Beowulf was now so used to getting humiliated by his so-called father.

The average-sized werewolf who stood in his human form a good 6 feet above the ground watched himself thinking about how funny his life could be. It had even just gotten funnier with what he had felt when he had perceived the human's scent.

Beowulf tucked some of his hair which had been blocking his right eye behind his ear as he kept looking at himself.

"You will enter that mirror soon and find yourself in another world," Salome joked as she barged into his tent.

Beowulf had heard her but he didn't move or respond to what his twin sister had just said to him. His mind was far away and overly occupied.

She hadn't noticed yet that her brother's mind was not there with them as she was looking through a basket of fruits that the maids had kept on the table for him -- which Beowulf hadn't even touched. Salome thought to help him with the exotic fruits that had been selected specially.

"Haven't you eaten yours, Salome?"

Salome's brows creased as she stopped midway in chewing the berry that she had just popped into her mouth. It was only from the sound of his voice and the slight trembling in it that Salome knew that something was wrong with Beowulf.

"What is the matter, brother?" she asked with so much concern and worry in her heart. "Has Father done something again?"

"What is there that is new under the sun that father would do to me again, Salome?" Beowulf asked with a small smirk on his structured and chiseled face.

He was the most handsome facially amongst all of them but his father didnt think so because he was much smaller in size. Nonetheless, his mother had always told him that he was the finest even if that didnt really concern Beowulf.

Salome's gaze went to her hand as she thought about the truth in what her brother had just said.

"Then why do you have this aura? I can feel it, you know," Salome said. "Talk to me..."

"You might- you will not believe me, Salome," Beowulf responded. "It is... I don't know what it is. I don't- I am so confused..." Beowulf murmured as his fingers raked his hair in a violent manner.

"Do you want to use your hands to scrape off your hair? And is it getting fuller?" Salome asked as she stood up and dashed for where her brother stood. She reached up to check what was happening with the mane of hair that Beowulf was beginning to have on his head. "You really took after our mother didnt you?"

"You did too, Salome, " Beowulf said as he gently took her hand in his and removed it from his hair. He walked away from his usual position in front of the mirror and took a seat somewhere in the corner of his tent -- not too far away from the chair and the table that Salome had been occupying.

Salome watched him knowing that something important was disturbing Beowulf. She knew that he intentionally did not allow Saku's words to get to him like this. Anytime their father said something or even hit Beowulf sometimes, he would just go into the forest to paint the ugly situation away. However, Salome looked around and noticed that Beowulf had returned from painting as her sight landed on the half painted picture on his easel

"Beowulf?" Salome called. This time, her voice was low and shaky as well. She needed to know what was wrong with her twin otherwise she wouldn't leave his tent. Salome was ready to stay there until she knew what was troubling Beowulf so. Whatever disturbed him disturbed her. They had shared a womb for crying out loud.

"A human is my mate, Salome."