Today is the day! My best friend is getting married to her mate, and I couldn't be more excited for her. As wolves, we believe we're incomplete until we find our true mates, and it's wonderful to see her find hers. Yes, you read that correctly—I am a wolf. Actually, we all are.

At our college, we often get called "lesbo" as a sort of nickname or stereotype. It's meant in a teasing or joking way, but it's all in good fun.

Today, she's proving once and for all that we're not just "lesbo" as people might jokingly call us, because she's getting married to a man! 

I'm wearing a stunning saree today, and I must say, it looks absolutely breathtaking on me. The rich fabric and intricate designs are perfectly complemented by my accessories, making me feel like a vision of elegance. I'm confident that with this look, I'll turn heads and leave a lasting impression—some might even faint from how fabulous I look!

She's wearing a stunning lehenga that makes her look like a picture-perfect bride. Wait a minute, what am I saying? Of course, she's the bride! Duh!

I am standing next to her holding the ring plate and there standing the grooms' brother holding their sides ring plate.

My best friend, radiant in a stunning lehenga, is marrying her soulmate in a ceremony that's both heartfelt and elegant. Surrounded by friends and family, the day is a perfect blend of cherished traditions and new beginnings. The atmosphere is brimming with happiness, and it's a true celebration of love. 

"I'll grab some ice cream for us," I tell my friends as I head to the ice cream parlour. I come back with two chocolate ice creams and one vanilla. I was only supposed to get two, but somehow I ended up playing the role of a waiter. Sometimes I hate being single, but it does have its perks—like when random boys flirt with you. I guess there are things I love about being single, too.

I distribute the ice creams to my friends, then search for a chair to sit in, as my legs are aching from wearing these high heels all evening. The pain is a constant reminder of why I often find myself wishing I were taller. While my shorter stature does earn me compliments and endearing remarks about being cute, I can't help but feel a pang of envy towards my brother. He's so tall, and it seems like he's been blessed with all the height that I lack. It's moments like these when the contrast between us feels especially stark, and I find myself longing for just a bit of that extra height he has.

Speaking of the devil, here he comes. It's unfortunate, but despite being 22 and nearly done with his studies at Wolf University, he still hasn't found his mate. It's a challenging situation for him, as we all know how significant finding a mate is in our world. The pressure of nearing graduation without having met that special someone adds to his frustration. Watching him navigate this period of his life, filled with both academic and personal uncertainty, makes me empathize with his struggle.

"Hey, wipe your mouth," he says softly. With a gentle touch, he brushes his long fingers against my lips, subtly smudging my carefully applied lipstick. I can't help but stare at him, a mix of annoyance and affection in my gaze. He raises an eyebrow playfully before leaning in and taking a bite of my ice cream, his eyes twinkling with mischief. The intimate gesture makes my heart flutter, even as I hit him on the chest for my ruined lipstick.

Sometimes, I genuinely forget that we're bound by blood. The way we interact, the moments we share, and the deep connection we have often overshadow the fact that our relationship is defined by family ties.

"It wasn't melting, you know?" I ask, observing the ice cream's solid form.

"I know," he replies with a casual shrug. He settles down beside me, adjusting his posture slightly to get comfortable. His hand gently rests on my bare shoulder, contrasting the coolness of the ice cream with the warmth of his touch. I'm wearing a sleeveless blouse, and his touch sends a subtle shiver down my spine, adding an intimate layer to the moment.

"How long will this take?" he asks, his fingertip gently caressing the sensitive skin of my shoulder blade. His touch is light and tender, sending a subtle shiver through me. As his eyes linger on the distant ceremony where my friend is being paired up traditionally, the warmth of his touch and the closeness of his presence create a private, almost cocoon-like moment amidst the celebration. The contrast between his gentle touch and the formal scene unfolding before us adds an unexpected layer of intimacy to the experience.

"I don't know. My legs hurt, so I'm sitting here," I admit, sinking into the shadowed corner of the aisle. The lights have dimmed here, perhaps unintentionally, providing a quiet, secluded retreat from the bustling wedding celebration.

He glances at me with a look that blends genuine concern with tenderness. Without a word, he shifts his chair so that it faces mine, his movements purposeful and gentle. He then adjusts my chair, guiding it so that it aligns perfectly with his. The subtle shift in our arrangement pulls us closer together, amplifying the sense of intimacy between us.

With a soft, reassuring touch, he lifts my legs and places them delicately across his lap. His fingers, warm and gentle, begin to massage my tired muscles with a soothing rhythm. Each caress and press is filled with a care that goes beyond mere comfort as if he's trying to convey a silent promise of support and affection. The dim, ambient light casts a soft glow over us, creating an intimate cocoon that feels private and serene amidst the grandeur of the wedding. In this tranquil space, his touch becomes an unspoken gesture of closeness and emotional connection, making the moment feel all the more special and deeply personal.

His hand travels slowly from my ankle up to just above my knee, and I can't help but draw in a sharp breath. The sensation is heightened by the fact that I'm not wearing any undergarments, adding an unexpected layer of intensity to the moment. Just as the scene reaches a peak of erotic tension, his phone rings, breaking the spell. He reluctantly removes his hand from my thigh and stands up to answer the call, leaving me in a state of lingering desire.

"Nandidni, you got carried away, huh?" a voice suddenly interrupts. It's none other than my wolf, Niti. Her tone is playful yet filled with a knowing edge as if she had been observing from inside me. The sudden appearance of her voice pulls me from the haze of lingering desire. 

I scold her lightly, my voice tinged with frustration as I rise from the chair. Without another word, I make my way to the car, my steps brisk and determined. I need to go home and confront him about this unexpected and bewildering stunt. The drive feels urgent, my mind racing with questions and unresolved feelings, as I prepare to seek answers and understand the motives behind his actions.

At first, I'm just a 20-year-old girl, mateless and yearning for a mate, feeling the deep ache of longing and desire. My frustration and desperation are palpable, and he, unintentionally or not, seems to stoke the flames of my emotions even more. The situation grows more intense, but deep down, I know that nothing can come of it because he is my brother. This painful awareness cuts through the whirlwind of feelings, grounding me in the reality that, despite the emotional and physical stirrings, our relationship remains firmly defined by family bonds that cannot be crossed.

To be continued...

Author's Note- 

This is the first chapter of the story, and I've made some changes to it. I hope the choice of words doesn't make you feel uncomfortable. If it did, I apologize. Thank you for taking the time to read it.

03.08.2024.