Entry 07, The Donette Story
Title: The Donette Story
Entry Number: 07
Author: latemarch, Chelsea
Fandom: Original
Rating: PG/PG-13
Genre: fantasy
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 1107
Notes: Directly follows Entry 04! Pam and Cam get into an argument that won't be entirely resolved until future entries!
I called my mom that night from a safe landline at the alpha’s house, cowardly, when she would be at her twice weekly Jazzercise class. Dad would be out in the garage with his motorcycle, listening to Hendrix, so I knew no one would answer. I was in the room I would have to share with my two traveling companions, frazzled beyond compare. We sat in a triangle on the bed, Camlin leaning back on his hands, Jaimie hunched over his crossed legs, and me, with my back stiff with tension. The men watched me stare at the phone for a good five minutes before I dialed her number from memory.
“Can I talk to your mother?” I was blindsided by the question as the house phone back in Plink rung, and stared at Camlin, startled.
“She’s not even home.” I said, irritated. He asked again, and frowned when I mouthed ‘No.’ at him. Making as if to take the phone from me, Camlin lunged forward, but I managed to slip around to the other side of the full bed. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking incredibly stern. And delicious.
I dragged my eyes away as her answering machine picked up. “Hey Mom. I’m just calling from… somewhere. Thought I’d let you know that I’m fine and everything’s good.”
Jaimie received a withering look as he made barking sounds in the background. “I don’t know when exactly I’ll be able to call you again but… hopefully tomorrow night.”
He must have been planning it.
He had to have been. Just when I was least expecting it, Camlin was suddenly crowding me, towering over me even though I was almost as tall as him. Before I could react, he’d smoothly plucked the phone from my hand and pinned me to his side, one arm trapped behind his back, the other one held tight in his free hand. He smiled tightly straight into the face of my scowl before he spoke.
“Mrs… well.” And as if things couldn’t get worse, he didn’t know my last name - it hadn’t come up in the midst of fast food debacles and radio karaoke. “Mrs…. Uh… Pam’s… mom…” His beautiful green eyes kept asking me for my last name, but I was too horrified by the terrible silence to be able to say anything; my mouth hung open in mortification, like a Venus Fly Trap.
He tried again, getting more desperate. “Mrs… Pam’s… Pam’s… mom…” And ended up with the same result. Outside, I could hear the unfamiliar pack murmuring in their alpha’s kitchen, but our room was painfully silent. Even the cicadas were quiet outside, and even more miraculous, Jaimie was hushed, his dark eyes wide, horrified at the ham-fisted way his friend and Imperator was handling it. And then the message machine clicked off, blessed thing.
“What. Have. You Done.” I ground out as Camlin held the phone away from my reaching hands and searched for the redial button. “Camlin!” I was screeching and practically climbing him like a tree to get the phone back. “Camlin!”
Unfortunately, he wasn’t as inept with technology as I would have hoped, and his thumb hit the redial button seconds later. “What. Are. You. A. Masochist?” I punctuated each furious word with a phone ring and a slap to his chest. Which hurt a lot more than I expected it to.
Frowning, I prepared to blow his ears off, but then that familiar answering machine clicked on again, and Camlin slapped his hand over my mouth. He whispered, “Shh!” And as my parents did a medley of Eagle songs on their machine, he pulled me closer, like the increased body contact would soothe me.
“Hello, my name is Camlin Ward, and I just thought I’d tell you that I plan on taking very good care of your daughter.” And then he left his cell phone number with a very cool, James Bond-esque, “Call me anytime.” The bastard.
Camlin clicked the phone off, clearly pleased with the way this second message had gone, and removed his hand from my mouth. “That went much better.” He must have sensed the displeasure rolling off of my in waves, because he was not above a little bribery, and on the way out, his hand stroked down my neck and shoulder. I resisted the best that I could.
“How could you do that?” I was furious, and scared, and completely torn apart. Putting as much space in between us as I possibly could, I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled, like he was an errant puppy. “I told you, ‘no.’”
I had never said ‘no’ to Camlin before. Hadn’t ever refused him anything. He’d only ever seen the rather flippant side of me, but that was about to change. And he wasn’t going to like it. I defined my life by my family, by my mother. She was such a rock for me throughout my childhood. If Camlin spoke to my mother, or contacted her in any way, it meant that this was all real. The whole god forsaken trip had become much more real. And I hadn’t realized how unready I was for that until Camlin spoke into my parent’s answering machine.
‘No,’ As it turned out, was Camlin’s least favorite word. I knew it as soon as I said it. Now I posed a true challenge to his authority as Imperator, and in front of one of his subjects too - there was no way he could let that go. His eyes darkened, pine green and angry, and his entire body tensed, to hold back the wolf. His upper lip lifted a bit, revealing one white canine, and snarling. I had made a serious mistake.
“Camlin, I-“ I wasn’t even allowed to finish my sentence, before I was against a wall, and Camlin the Imperator was facing me, growling. Behind him, Jaimie sat hunched over his knees, his eyes shadowed so that I couldn’t see how he was responding to the show of dominance.
“No one speaks to me like that, Pamela.” His face was so close to mine, our lips were almost a kiss. “Not if you are my friend. Not if you are my woman. Not if you are my mate.” More teeth were bared. “I do what I want.”
I swallowed, scared. More like terrified. I’d only seen Camlin aggressive and dominant with other wolves, protecting me - I’d never been the focus of it. Now I knew why Myles had been stunned by his apology. Now I knew why he ruled with an iron claw. Now I knew why he was Imperator.
- - end of entry 07 - -
Note of explanation: There is a very complicated hierarchy in the werewolf world.
Highest - the Imperators, who are each responsible for one quarter of the the world, or one of the Four Earthly Quarters. Next, the Executors, who are kind of like representatives of the Imperator, and also alphas. For example, in the US, they would generally be responsible for a state, although in other places the boundaries would not be so clear. Underneath them are the regular alphas, then the dominants, then the submissives. So Camlin is an Imperator, an Executor, and an Alpha, all at once. He's a busy guy, after all.
Hopefully this turned out alright - I wrote it last night before falling asleep over my computer again. (I need to stop doing that, but my life is such a mess right now). Pam has always based her life on her parents, and specifically her mother. She needed a rock to hold onto and to help her through life, and speaking as someone who felt that exact same way for a long time, I know how important this can be. Now that Camlin has made contact with her parents in some way, it's like the merging of two entirely different worlds, and Pam isn't sure that she's ready for that yet.
Anyway, more later!
Entry Number: 07
Author: latemarch, Chelsea
Fandom: Original
Rating: PG/PG-13
Genre: fantasy
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 1107
Notes: Directly follows Entry 04! Pam and Cam get into an argument that won't be entirely resolved until future entries!
I called my mom that night from a safe landline at the alpha’s house, cowardly, when she would be at her twice weekly Jazzercise class. Dad would be out in the garage with his motorcycle, listening to Hendrix, so I knew no one would answer. I was in the room I would have to share with my two traveling companions, frazzled beyond compare. We sat in a triangle on the bed, Camlin leaning back on his hands, Jaimie hunched over his crossed legs, and me, with my back stiff with tension. The men watched me stare at the phone for a good five minutes before I dialed her number from memory.
“Can I talk to your mother?” I was blindsided by the question as the house phone back in Plink rung, and stared at Camlin, startled.
“She’s not even home.” I said, irritated. He asked again, and frowned when I mouthed ‘No.’ at him. Making as if to take the phone from me, Camlin lunged forward, but I managed to slip around to the other side of the full bed. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking incredibly stern. And delicious.
I dragged my eyes away as her answering machine picked up. “Hey Mom. I’m just calling from… somewhere. Thought I’d let you know that I’m fine and everything’s good.”
Jaimie received a withering look as he made barking sounds in the background. “I don’t know when exactly I’ll be able to call you again but… hopefully tomorrow night.”
He must have been planning it.
He had to have been. Just when I was least expecting it, Camlin was suddenly crowding me, towering over me even though I was almost as tall as him. Before I could react, he’d smoothly plucked the phone from my hand and pinned me to his side, one arm trapped behind his back, the other one held tight in his free hand. He smiled tightly straight into the face of my scowl before he spoke.
“Mrs… well.” And as if things couldn’t get worse, he didn’t know my last name - it hadn’t come up in the midst of fast food debacles and radio karaoke. “Mrs…. Uh… Pam’s… mom…” His beautiful green eyes kept asking me for my last name, but I was too horrified by the terrible silence to be able to say anything; my mouth hung open in mortification, like a Venus Fly Trap.
He tried again, getting more desperate. “Mrs… Pam’s… Pam’s… mom…” And ended up with the same result. Outside, I could hear the unfamiliar pack murmuring in their alpha’s kitchen, but our room was painfully silent. Even the cicadas were quiet outside, and even more miraculous, Jaimie was hushed, his dark eyes wide, horrified at the ham-fisted way his friend and Imperator was handling it. And then the message machine clicked off, blessed thing.
“What. Have. You Done.” I ground out as Camlin held the phone away from my reaching hands and searched for the redial button. “Camlin!” I was screeching and practically climbing him like a tree to get the phone back. “Camlin!”
Unfortunately, he wasn’t as inept with technology as I would have hoped, and his thumb hit the redial button seconds later. “What. Are. You. A. Masochist?” I punctuated each furious word with a phone ring and a slap to his chest. Which hurt a lot more than I expected it to.
Frowning, I prepared to blow his ears off, but then that familiar answering machine clicked on again, and Camlin slapped his hand over my mouth. He whispered, “Shh!” And as my parents did a medley of Eagle songs on their machine, he pulled me closer, like the increased body contact would soothe me.
“Hello, my name is Camlin Ward, and I just thought I’d tell you that I plan on taking very good care of your daughter.” And then he left his cell phone number with a very cool, James Bond-esque, “Call me anytime.” The bastard.
Camlin clicked the phone off, clearly pleased with the way this second message had gone, and removed his hand from my mouth. “That went much better.” He must have sensed the displeasure rolling off of my in waves, because he was not above a little bribery, and on the way out, his hand stroked down my neck and shoulder. I resisted the best that I could.
“How could you do that?” I was furious, and scared, and completely torn apart. Putting as much space in between us as I possibly could, I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled, like he was an errant puppy. “I told you, ‘no.’”
I had never said ‘no’ to Camlin before. Hadn’t ever refused him anything. He’d only ever seen the rather flippant side of me, but that was about to change. And he wasn’t going to like it. I defined my life by my family, by my mother. She was such a rock for me throughout my childhood. If Camlin spoke to my mother, or contacted her in any way, it meant that this was all real. The whole god forsaken trip had become much more real. And I hadn’t realized how unready I was for that until Camlin spoke into my parent’s answering machine.
‘No,’ As it turned out, was Camlin’s least favorite word. I knew it as soon as I said it. Now I posed a true challenge to his authority as Imperator, and in front of one of his subjects too - there was no way he could let that go. His eyes darkened, pine green and angry, and his entire body tensed, to hold back the wolf. His upper lip lifted a bit, revealing one white canine, and snarling. I had made a serious mistake.
“Camlin, I-“ I wasn’t even allowed to finish my sentence, before I was against a wall, and Camlin the Imperator was facing me, growling. Behind him, Jaimie sat hunched over his knees, his eyes shadowed so that I couldn’t see how he was responding to the show of dominance.
“No one speaks to me like that, Pamela.” His face was so close to mine, our lips were almost a kiss. “Not if you are my friend. Not if you are my woman. Not if you are my mate.” More teeth were bared. “I do what I want.”
I swallowed, scared. More like terrified. I’d only seen Camlin aggressive and dominant with other wolves, protecting me - I’d never been the focus of it. Now I knew why Myles had been stunned by his apology. Now I knew why he ruled with an iron claw. Now I knew why he was Imperator.
- - end of entry 07 - -
Note of explanation: There is a very complicated hierarchy in the werewolf world.
Highest - the Imperators, who are each responsible for one quarter of the the world, or one of the Four Earthly Quarters. Next, the Executors, who are kind of like representatives of the Imperator, and also alphas. For example, in the US, they would generally be responsible for a state, although in other places the boundaries would not be so clear. Underneath them are the regular alphas, then the dominants, then the submissives. So Camlin is an Imperator, an Executor, and an Alpha, all at once. He's a busy guy, after all.
Hopefully this turned out alright - I wrote it last night before falling asleep over my computer again. (I need to stop doing that, but my life is such a mess right now). Pam has always based her life on her parents, and specifically her mother. She needed a rock to hold onto and to help her through life, and speaking as someone who felt that exact same way for a long time, I know how important this can be. Now that Camlin has made contact with her parents in some way, it's like the merging of two entirely different worlds, and Pam isn't sure that she's ready for that yet.
Anyway, more later!