It was one of those nights when Evan couldn't sleep. His mother would probably say it was the hormones and that he should get used to it; after all, he was going through puberty. It was one of her favorite explanations for all his problems. The first, of course, was that his phone was to blame because he spent too much time looking at it.

Every time Evan heard one of these reasons, he thought of a third—that even though his mom was a wolf, she spent too much time on the internet. Seriously, she always told him that a good run would solve any wolf problem, but ironically, she was looking for solutions online.

Evan couldn't blame her, though, as he'd been spending a lot of time on the internet lately too. Especially in incognito mode. He'd lost count of how many quizzes he'd taken to figure out his sexual orientation. He had never gotten to the end, though, because his subconscious kept teasing him that no heterosexual would even open such a quiz.

And just as he was constantly overthinking online, he was also overthinking at a time when he should have been asleep long ago. His mind was like the sea—full of elusive fish, mermaids that no one knew were real or just figments of his imagination, and shipwrecks that symbolized his childhood dreams. The only thing missing was a beacon to guide him in the right direction.

His mind was a mess. He had countless thoughts that just wouldn't find their way to his tongue. Not that he was ready to talk about them anyway. He’d even thought about buying a diary to write everything down, but he was too afraid someone might find it. The papers remained empty, his head was full, and the only person who could help him was irretrievably gone from his life. He felt pathetic.

Evan knew what had happened. Ever since his first vision, he’d felt like he was slowly losing himself. He couldn't stop thinking about everything—about his wolf, about himself, about him. He knew that wolves accepted their other half no matter what. They were built that way: to search for the second part of their soul, find it, and protect it with their lives. He understood that. At least he thought he did.

However, protecting someone else when he couldn't even protect the most important person in his life felt impossible.

Being a wolf was something else. Sometimes, he hated it. Sometimes, he wished more than anything to be human. In those moments, he blamed himself for all the petty wishes he’d whispered over the candles on his birthday cake. None of them had made him happy—they were just empty words. The worst part was that Evan couldn't even think of the right words to make it all better. It felt as if his original life was irrevocably gone. He was no longer the same Evan he’d been in the beginning, and he didn’t even know if his mate was to blame for that.

He sighed again, just as he had at least a hundred times since going to bed.

"It's all Angie's fault." And, in a way, it was. She had told him something he just couldn’t get out of his head.

"I don't see what the problem is," she said to him. They were sitting on their favorite bench, away from the rest of the pack but still close enough to remain in wolf territory.

"The fact that I’m apparently designed to be someone’s housewife?" Evan spat the words out in frustration. He knew it wasn’t entirely true, but he didn’t want to reveal all his feelings. Not in front of Angie. Not now.

Moreover, although Evan didn’t realize it at the time, his words were influenced by what he’d been hearing from his parents—especially his mom.

"So that’s the problem? You don’t wanna bottom?" She laughed like it was the funniest thing she’d heard all day.

"Ew, gross. I’m not talking about sex." He shuddered. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable with the idea, but he didn’t particularly sympathize with it either. Sex was the last thing he wanted to think about right now.

"Okay, okay. Not how it sounded before, but okay." Angie didn’t look convinced, but she could tell he didn’t need convincing right now. He needed support, and she was willing to give it. After all, he’d been her best friend for as long as she could remember.

Evan sighed. Not only was he confusing, but so were his explanations. Not that he could blame Angie for not understanding, since all his confessions so far had been half-truths. He was glad to be able to rely on her, but at the same time, he blamed himself for not being able to confide in her about his fears.

"I'm not Alpha, or Beta, or anyone really important to the pack. And that’s fine with me, because I couldn’t care less about running the pack, but still... What if he is? What if his big dream is to be someone who protects the pack no matter what? Everyone would just assume he was the big, bad dominant wolf in charge, and I was someone who had trouble obeying," Evan voiced one of his biggest fears. He had never seen his relationship with the pack as a problem until he started thinking about his mate. He knew from a young age that he didn’t want to live as part of a pack forever, but he had no idea what his mate would think, and that scared him to no end.

"No one would expect you to obey anyone, believe me," Angie assured him before continuing, "so you're afraid people will think you're feminine?"

Their pack didn’t have many females who were fighters, so at first glance, it seemed like the females were weaker than the males. Evan knew that wasn’t true, but he was still afraid that someone would compare him to them. He wasn’t a woman, and he wasn’t weak; he was a werewolf, after all, but who knew what his pack would say if they knew he was questioning his orientation? He didn’t want to be seen as feminine.

"Something like that, I guess? I just don’t want to be somebody’s Chihuahua in a purse. Like, they’re scary, but still a size you can fit in a purse," he admitted.

Naturally, Angie began to laugh almost hysterically.

"That’s not funny!"

"You literally compared yourself to a Chihuahua. It’s hilarious!"

"I hate you," he muttered.

He didn’t mean it, but at that moment, he would have given anything for his friend to stop laughing. He couldn’t help it if his comparisons sometimes sounded more funny than accurate.

"No, you don’t. And since I’m your best friend, I’ll tell you what I think." She finally stopped chuckling.

"All right?" It was more of a question than an answer, thanks to his uncertain voice.

"I know our pack is kind of traditional and old-fashioned, and you and I—well, we’re not. We like being modern teenagers and doing shit that humans do, but we’re still part of this pack. It’s not like we have a choice. At least I don’t. I totally love my family, and I’d probably die without my mum’s cooking. The thing is—you and your mate will be equal. They can’t just expect you to change completely for them. You share souls, remember? So they have to understand you. And the same goes for you. You’ll be fine, whoever it is. I promise."

Her words reminded him of a similar promise made to him by an equally important person. At the same time, Evan was grateful for her choice of pronouns. She didn’t say "she," like everyone he’d ever spoken to, and that strangely warmed his heart. It gave him hope that her words were true and that she would always be by his side, no matter what.

"And you’re definitely Jacob from Twilight, not Vampire Sucks," she added.

"Huh?" Never mind, her comparisons were just as bad as his. Maybe that was why they made such a good team.

Evan knew she had a point. But even after that conversation, he still felt like he was losing a part of himself. He just didn’t know which one. He believed in the supernatural—he was a supernatural creature himself. He believed that wolves needed their packs and that the bond could be compared to that of a family, but at the same time, he thought that wolves could be just as happy among humans. After all, humans were happy on their own and didn’t need anything supernatural for that.

One thing Evan wasn’t sure about was destiny. His parents were mates, and so were his grandparents. They were each other’s other halves, and they really looked like they were made for each other. The thing was, they put their heart and soul into their pack too. Evan didn’t want that. He wanted to see the world, he wanted to have options, and he was afraid that his mate wouldn’t give him any. He knew he wasn’t supposed to think like that, but somehow, he thought it might be easier if his mate were a female—that she wouldn’t be as powerful as he was or beat him up if he decided to leave his pack.

He just wanted to feel like himself when he found them. But now... It looked more like he wouldn’t even be able to get any sleep until he found them.

Ironic, wasn’t it? Maybe he really needed to confide in someone before his thoughts ate him alive.