"All of us are God's creatures... just some are more creature than others."

Anonymous

One advantage of having wild hungry sex all night was that once you did drift off to sleep, it was so deep you couldn't even bother to dream. If your so far peachy life had just turned into Nightmare City, that came in quite handy.

Zoe stretched her body, didn't come far before she got tangled up in the sheets, and half-way fell out of bed. 'Not necessarily my most elegant move,' She ran a hand through her bed hair and looked at her sleeping bed mate with a sigh. 'Whoever gave you the looks of a god and the lust of a devil has a warped sense of humour.'

Zoe was about to turn around and head towards the coffee machine when she caught a mark on Sam's otherwise flawless body – give or take a scar here and there – that she hadn't noticed so far. Considering she had come one on one with him numerous times, that could almost be called lax of her.

Zoe trailed her fingertip over the odd scar - it could best be described as a jagged, halfway drawn half-crescent, as if the artist had lost interest – on his shoulder.

As sudden as lightening strikes, Sam shot up and grabbed Zoe's wrist, wrenched it away from him. The look he threw her struck Zoe as lethal, and only the cry escaping her lips assured her that her throat hadn't been ripped yet. Sam's eyes became human and gentle so quickly again, however, that she blamed her imagination.

"Sorry," He apologized, releasing her hand from his vice-like grip.

"Some instincts you got there," Zoe said breathlessly.

"More like trained reflexes," Sam growled in reply, his deep voice sending tingling needle pricks down Zoe's back from intimidated pleasure. "I'm sorry I scared you."

"Sam, what are you, really?"

"Beg your pardon?" Sam's muscles tensed to the maximum, and his moral mind refused admitting that his werewolf self was prepared to kill Zoe right now should she know too much.

"You're highly educated, I can just tell that much. Yet, you're definitely not the office type. Your hands are a worker's hands, and you seem to have the liberty of arranging your work hours to your leisure. So, what are you?"

Sam relaxed again; there went a lie that had passed his lips an odd hundred times. "I'm a mechanic. I work at my brother's garage." Sam had never realized before how inquisitively penetrating Zoe's docile eyes could be, and had the full moon's influence been any less powerful, he might have crumbled.

"Aha," Zoe replied merely, not certain she was willing to buy that story despite it sounding perfectly plausible. Maybe a little too perfectly. Let's face it: Nothing about Sam was smooth, why would his story be? "And the tattoo?"

"Who hasn't committed a youthful misdeed or two?"

Not that Zoe doubted Sam's ability of loss of control – she had the bruises and orgasm record to prove it – but he didn't strike her as the type of getting wasted and ending up under the needle. "Aha."

"What's with the inquisition?" He pulled her towards him with such a winning smirk, Zoe threw her doubts overboard faster than a captain would a mutineer.

"Just thought I should half-way know the guy I'm sharing my bed with. Oh, and who I gave up my marriage and reputation for," Zoe added casually as she snuggled into his embrace. If anyone had told her sooner what she was missing out on by denying 'morning after cuddles', she'd have jumped Marc's bones months before. Or maybe she wouldn't have; maybe the magic of it was all about Sam.

Sam closed his eyes and let the delicious scent wavering up to him from the woman laying so trustworthily in his arms linger on his tongue. Artemis, Goddess of the Moon, knew how badly he wanted to taste it for real… "Normally, people share that kind of information on the first date."

"When exactly did we have a date? Or did my faith brainwash me to the point of me not even recognizing a date when I have it?"

"Zoe, you surprise me."

"Lately I tend to surprise even myself."

Sam smiled and brushed through her unruly waves of hair, revelling in the intoxicating scent they radiated. "I didn't take you as the humorous type so far."

"Well, I didn't take myself as the lecherous, moralless type so far, either. I suppose one could say you bring out the best as well as the worst in me. Saint by day, monster by night."

Sam's hand turned to a fist, not that Zoe noticed. He prayed – well, figuratively speaking – she hadn't meant anything by it; when his mate didn't elaborate, he figured the coast was clear.

'I should tell her,' It gnawed at Sam not for the first time. 'This isn't exactly a relaxing status quo, having to weasel my way around a bunch of lies and watch out not to trip over one of them…'

"I've got to go now…" Zoe said with audible regret in her voice, "It's our last Literature class before the exam next week, and I should show some good will and attend." She brushed her lips against Sam's, waiting for a response which readily and heatedly came. Sam pulled her down on him, tasting that sweet, unique taste that was Zoe on her lips and feeling her warm soft body against his.

"What are you going to do today?" Zoe asked as she got dressed. To her surprise, she'd discovered she no longer had a problem with Sam seeing her naked even when they weren't having sex. Apparently, by the fourth time she'd dropped her clothes for him, some of her inhibitions had followed. "How long are you going to stay, anyways?"

'Depends, Zo,' Sam sighed inwardly, 'I should leave right now. I can't leave before tomorrow night… because I have to be with you tonight. Again.'

"When do you want me out of the house?"

"That wasn't the question." Zoe smiled benevolently. "And never will be."

"Let's just see then," Sam pulled her down to him again and eventually released her with a final kiss.

"Just don't take off like last time."

"Don't worry, it won't be like last time… Last time you had a fiancé."

"Yeah, thanks for rubbing that in," Zoe replied strangely unaffected. Upon the sight of Sam in her bed, Marc faded to oblivion. It should have been a first warning sign.

"How long do you figure I'll get the stares?" Zoe picked at her lunch, about as hungry as after Thanksgiving dinner.

"Until some other girl is silly enough to screw someone not her fiancé and get caught," Lola munched on her salad.

"If that was an attempt of cheering me up, it failed grandly."

"Hey, come on, you've got a handsome hunk at home keeping your bed warm."

'Hot, actually,' Zoe thought.

"If that isn't comfort, then I don't know what is." Lola finished her lunch. "By the way, you never told me how the meeting with your Mom went."

"It didn't."

"Huh?"

"I'm saying that it didn't go any way whatsoever because she didn't even want to meet me."

Lola raised her eyebrows. "You ought to get out of that club, Zoe."

"Pardon?"

"Church." Lola replied mercilessly. "I mean it. If that religion drives your family to turn against you, it ain't worth anything."

Zoe normally would have leapt to defend her faith, but no word of justification left her lips. Was Sam even religious? She'd never gotten around to ask. Then again, there were lots of open questions surrounding her mysterious lover like moths the light. "Yeah, I'm starting to get that."

"Really?" Lola looked at her in surprise; whoever her lover was, he was apparently banging some sense into her.

"Yeah," Zoe sighed, not wanting to expand on the topic. Admitting she might have been a little more than naïve when it came to her faith hurt. "We going to Lit class now or what?"

"Sure thing, Catherine."

"Huh?"

"Earnshaw," Lola grinned. "And Marc being Linton. That leaves your secret lover to be Heathcliff. Well, we all know how that story goes, do we not?"

Zoe rolled her eyes. "I love you, Lola, but right now, all I have to say to you is: Bite me."

"Speaking of love and bites, Zoe-bee; wear a scarf, or the talk and stares will never stop."

Zoe's hand flew to her neck panic-stricken, eyes already scanning the place for a mirror while her other hand rummaged through her bag in search of either a scarf or a cover-up stick.

Only when Lola's chuckles reached her discomfort-clouded mind did Zoe remember she'd already checked for evidence of her lusty night this morning. "Got cha, sweetie. Must have been some night."

"That isn't funny," Zoe growled and took a seat in the very back row of the class room. It wouldn't particularly surprise her if the professor made a remark about her inglorious actions; why should the teachers miss out on the fun, after all? A tenure wasn't a guarantee for a lack of sadism, mostly it was rather a guarantee for its distinctive presence.

"The look on your face was. No need to feel guilty, by the way," Lola lolled into the chair beside her. "Satisfy my curiosity like he undoubtedly satisfied you last night, though, and tell me: Is he worth it? Giving up, well, you know."

"What, my virginity? Or marriage, or reputation, or family?"

"All of it, seeing as you really did give up all of it." Lola, unusually softly and considerately, added: "Do you love him?"

"To be honest: I don't know. I don't even know him well enough to even make a judgement, but I don't regret choosing him over everything else. Maybe that counts for something, maybe that 'something' is just my insanity, but it doesn't really matter now. What's done is done, and whether it was a mistake or not will show itself in due time."

"I hope you know that's a bunch of crap, though I'll give you that it sounded nice."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that you give that whole 'Time will tell' show, but with things like this, you either know or you don't." Lola looked at Zoe unwaveringly, who didn't know if her happy-go-lucky friend had suddenly gotten the epiphany of wisdom or was just provoking her to make an admittance of some kind.

For the first time in the whole of her school career, Zoe witnessed the historical moment of a teacher making herself useful: Professor Bradshaw entered and therewith saved her from a reply.

Zoe switched to sleep mode. Her empty gaze swept over the citation on the board like it would swipe over a blank wall; unrecognizing, indifferent.

"Miss Heart, would you care to read out the quote and interpret it for us once you're done daydreaming? About who, we won't even discuss here?"

An unknown, strong feeling welled up within Zoe, making her heart race with its alien strength. Anger.

Sam's words rang in her head, chiming along with the blood rushing in her ears. 'It's nobody else's business and most certainly not their right to judge.'

"If we won't discuss it, Professor Bradshaw, then why did you bring it up?"

The chuckling and whispers were silenced. Zoe Heart talked back to a teacher – had someone slipped something into her glass of milk today?

The teacher's eyes narrowed dangerously, but even as a professor of English literature, she couldn't find a striking argument against Zoe's cunning rhetorical rejoinder. "The quote, Miss Heart."

'What, can't you read?' It almost fled Zoe's mouth, but she held it back last second. She had her share of heart fluttering due to adrenaline rush for today. Aside from the shocking experience of actually snapping at a teacher, Zoe felt satisfaction and elation: Things were a lot easier, it seemed, if you didn't pay attention to others' feelings but just what served you.

"Little girls, this seems to say, never stop upon your way, never trust a stranger friend, no-one knows how it will end!

As you're pretty, so be wise!

Wolves may lurk in every guise!

Now, as then, it's simple truth, sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth!"

"Now, the interpretation, if you don't mind? While you're at it, tell us where that quote is from?"

"Rosaleen, The Company of Wolves," Lola hissed under her breath, a tip Zoe was more than glad for, since she had never heard of it before.

"Rosaleen, The Company of Wolves." Zoe replied confidently. From the sour expression on the teacher's face, she gathered she had been right – or well, Lola had been. "And it tells us to not only go for appearances but take a look behind the fancy curtains before we commit ourselves. Moreover, it warns smart, pretty girls to not fall prey to handsome men but…" Zoe took a deep breath, trying to ignore how cut out this quote really was for her, "…but to realize that what seems the sweetest sin really is the first brick on the way to hell."

"Very good, Miss Heart, I see you speak from experience."

"I, at least, have sinful experience to draw upon." There it was again: the high of just speaking her mind instead of holding back because of respect, sympathy or empathy.

Lola shot her friend a proud, but surprised look. Not only had Zoe shown the first crack in her wall of confidence in her faith being right and true, but also was a whole other woman shining through ever since she'd blown off her wedding for the handsome stranger's sake.

What other changes had the relationship with him, of whatever kind it was, in store for Zoe?

Sam debated whether to make Zoe's apartment ghost and demon proof – then figured she might ask questions about her windows being Margarita-ed and her floor being used as a graffiti panel. She was asking too many questions as it was.

Yet, knowing he would take off tomorrow and not leave her behind protected caused him almost physical discomfort.

He weighed his phone in his hand along with his options. Obviously, the right thing to do would be to call Dean and ask him to put a silver bullet through his heart. Sadly, his werewolf survival instincts protested against that strongly, and offered impregnating Zoe as a much more desirable option.

Not trusting his tone on the night just after full moon, Sam sent Dean a text saying he was okay, hung up with his girl somewhere. He knew his brother wouldn't ask any questions about that; not yet, anyways.

That didn't solve the issue in the long run, however; how long would it take for Dean to figure out the pattern between Sam's 'vacations' and the phases of the moon? Would he hunt his younger brother down? Worse: what if he ended up hunting down Zoe?

"You're going to leave again, aren't you?" Zoe rolled onto her stomach and gazed down at Sam, her fingers lightly drumming on his bare chest as she placed a kiss on it. The more she got used to Sam's ravenous lust and the ensuing hungry sex, the more she enjoyed it, and the less she wanted to do without him. Not that he didn't still scare her in some moments, no, Zoe just started to live with that.

Certainly, it was shallow that the main quality – possibly the only one, seeing as there wasn't all too much else connecting them – of their 'relationship' was passion, raw, dirty passion. What was Zoe supposed to do about it, though? She'd long passed the point of no return.

Sam looked up to her with guilty puppy eyes. "How'd you…?"

Zoe sighed. "I just do. I can read people to some extent. Normally, I fail miserably with you, this morning, however, I'm granted a glimpse."

"Must be losing my touch."

Zoe chuckled and caressed his defined jaw. "Will I ever get to read the whole book?"

"It's one of those that don't end happy, Zo." It struck Sam as macabre to call her 'sweetheart', so he stuck with her name until he came up with a less tasteless title for her. No pun intended, again.

"I won't ever know if you won't let me get to the end, will I?" Zoe rested her upper torso on Sam's and brushed her fingertip over his eyebrow, wondering what secrets those deceivingly gentle hazel eyes held.

"You ever read one of those books where everyone gets killed off so the author doesn't have to bother with providing them with a happy end of some sort?"

"I take it you're not referring to the bible where the good guys, if they die, rise again in the epilogue?"

Sam smiled and brushed a strand of amber hair behind Zoe's ear affectionately. If only Zoe knew how much truth lay behind her joking words… how many times had he and Dean died? Seven, eight times?

However, being trapped inside his own body with Lucifer at the wheel seemed somewhat easier than being ruled by werewolf instincts, Sam had to admit retrospectively.

"No, I don't mean that. Rather like in 'Romeo and Juliet'."

"Oh, yeah, Shakespeare had indeed been depressed when he wrote that one." Zoe arched an eyebrow. "So you mean like, Harry Potter 7, just minus the warped happy end he got with Ginny?"

Sam scrambled through all the books imprinted on his mind, most of them lore, until he finally found a vague memory of the last Harry Potter book. "Yeah, that's somewhat fitting. Hits just keep coming until nobody's left."

Zoe bit her lip, a sight whose incredibly eroticism she was oblivious to. "How come you already know the end?"

"Know those punch lines at the end of a chapter?"

"The ones that force you to keep reading because you couldn't possibly put the book down now? Yes."

"Had a lot of those, and the last chapter just… predestines a not happy end."

"You can always swing it around. I don't believe anything's written in stone."

"Not even the ten commandments?"

Zoe chuckled. "Honestly? I'm starting to doubt it." Sam realized there was a new, stunning glow about Zoe; was it her shaking off the dire yoke of her prim faith, or was it something else...?

"Who's writing the story, anyways?"

That question threw Sam off. "Destiny?"

"Destiny is just another word for 'self-fulfilling prophecy'. The moment you start blaming destiny, you give up. You stop fighting for what you want and give in to others' plans for you. You don't strike me as the type of man who does that, Sam."

He looked at his girl in wonder; did she know how true and admirably strongly she was talking? Probably not, yet it had a soothing effect on Sam. His situation didn't seem so horridly hopeless anymore. He'd been ready to give in to his werewolfism way too easily, had never even tried to find a cure or anything alike.

"Just let me read it, Sam." Zoe whispered and tremblingly brushed her fingers through his hair.

"No. It's one of those stories that spoil your own happy ending."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" Zoe softly protested. Too softly.

"Because it's not yours to judge. You don't ask Juliet to bear her fate for her, do you?"

"I highly doubt I'd end up like Juliet," Zoe wished she could believe her own words. Fact was, however, that this conversation was none you'd lead with just any man. Sam was like an uncrackable fortune cookie that held her future inside of it, but he wouldn't let her see it. Worse: she didn't even know which side of Sam she should try to crack. The man she was having these morning conversations with, light and comforting, or the lusting man she had at night, wild and dark? Which one was the right one?

"Zoe…because I like you, I'm begging you: Don't go poking."

"Well, Sam, what do you expect? That you can just come and go as you please and I put my life on hold while you're gone? Offer me some explanation, at least!"

Sam hadn't expected an outburst, not from Zoe. Naturally, she had every right to be pissed at him, he just hadn't thought she'd ever reveal it. "Zo…"

"And don't say it's complicated or that it's better for me if I don't know, because that's just… bullshit!"

Sam believed it to be the wrong time to point out he adored the way her eyes twinkled when she was annoyed, and how her mouth turned pouty like a child's. "I know that, Zoe, and I'm sorry."

"Apparently not enough to either break off whatever you have going back wherever you live, or to commit to me in so much as that you take me back there with you!" Zoe shocked herself more than Sam with that statement. Just yesterday she had more or less admitted she didn't even know him enough to say whether she loved him, and here she was more or less asking him to either move in with her or take her with him.

Zoe highlighted that mental note of hers to get checked for a bipolar disorder.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"Zo, hey. Zo, it's okay," Sam soothed her quickly, making her look at him. "You don't need to apologize. You're right, and I'm sorry for being an ass. I know I'm waltzing into your life unasked, and trample down everything in my way. I promise you I'll set it right somehow. Just…please, give me a little more time."

Zoe found herself nodding. "Okay. When will you be back?"

"First week of May." Sam replied without hesitation.

You guys are so awesome, thank you all for the alerts, favorites and reviews! =) The next update might take a whee while, I'm having some panic attacks and mental breakdowns here, but hey, A-levels will be over one day... ;D Thanks so much for sticking with me! I'll make sure to make the next chapter extra beasty. ;)

xoxo