“Like me.”
“Yes. And most humans are simply not strong enough to survive in this kind of world, they do not understand our pack mentality. Most inner wolves recognize this. It’s in our nature to seek strong mates, ones that will bear strong children.
But there have been times, very rarely, when a wolf has recognized a human as worthy of mating. I’m not entirely sure why, that is beyond my wisdom. Only an inner wolf can decide who is the right mate. But from what I understand, human- wolf pairings are exceptionally difficult.”
“Why’s that?”
“A werewolf spends their entire life learning about the mate bond, and they desire exist in our world. The desire for your mate is so strong, no wolf could possibly fathom being away from them. But humans don’t have an inner wolf, they don’t feel the bond the same way. I’m not sure if they experience a pull, but if they do, it’s nothing like what a wolf feels. And from what I’ve seen, human mates don’t get handled the same way that regular mates do.
“What do you mean?” I asked. The elder smiled ruefully. “Having grown up in this world, you already know how possessive wolves can be, especially male wolves,” he continued, “Most wolves are naturally territorial of their mates. It’s in our nature to be protective and dominant of what’s ours. The higher ranking the wolf is, the more possessive they’ll be.
Alphas are the most possessive, and while I’ve never met the Alpha King or the
Prince, I assume they’re even worse than normal Alphas. As you know, humans are more fragile than werewolves. Your senses aren’t as good, you break more easily, take longer to heal, and you get sick. Having such a fragile mate would put any wolf on edge – any possessiveness or protectiveness they’d feel just gets amplified ten times over. Several decades ago, one of our pack warriors had a human mate.
He was beside himself with worry about her most of the time, even when she was fine. He wouldn’t let her leave the house by herself. He hardly let her cook, he was too worried that she’d cut herself with a knife or burn herself on the stove. He’d keep her on b*d rest for days if he even thought she was getting a cold.”
He shook his head and sighed, “That poor girl. I’m not sure how she ever functioned like that.”
I couldn’t see my own face, but I must’ve looked pretty freaked out because the old man put a comforting hand on my shoulder. “There’s no need to worry, Clark,” he said, patting my arm, “I didn’t mean to scare you. As I told you earlier, human mates are so rare, they almost never happen. The chance that you’d be a wolf’s mate, it’s almost impossible.”
Impossible, yes.
There’s no need to make a big deal out of this, Clark. You heard the man – human mates almost never happen, and if they do, it’s probably just to uber-special humans.
I took a deep breath, and tried to hold onto that thought.
Everything is going to be okay.
There’s no way I have a mate.
“The idea of a soulmate is beautiful and very romantic to talk about in a movie or a song, but in reality, I find it scary.”
Vanessa Paradis
I hardly slept that night.
When I did finally doze off, I dreamt of a man.
I couldn’t spot his face or hear his voice, but I saw his hands they were large, with long, nimble fingers that could’ve belonged to a pianist and visible veins running from his knuckles down to his arms.
I could make out his forearms too, but more specifically, the large tattoo that covered his left forearm. It sort of looked like a bird, but the b*dy was something else a panther or a lion, maybe?
The shrill sound of my alarm woke me before I could get a closer look.
“Clark!”
As if the loud beeping from my alarm wasn’t enough, I had a second alarm today: Lily.
“Clark! Turn that shit off, it’s been beeping for more than a minute!”
What a perfect way to start my Monday morning.
I didn’t need to open my eyes to notice that Lily was glaring at me from my doorway. She was even less of a morning person than I was, and everyone in the house’knew it. We’d all faced her early morning wrath more than once, but me (and my loud alarm) was a frequent target.
“Okay, okay, I’m doing it,” I mumbled sleepily, and I fumbled with my phone until 1 hit the snooze button. I rubbed my face a few times before peeking one eye open. Just as I’d expected, Lily’s sharp glare could’ve cut glass.
“Is there a reason you need to set your alarm so loud?” Lily snapped, “I could hear that thing a mile away. It practically makes my ears bleed.”
I was too groggy to argue with her not that it would’ve done any good. “Sorry, Lil,” I yawned, “I’m a heavy sleeper. Not everyone has sensitive wolf ears, you know.”
“Whatever,” Lily rolled her eyes, “Just get up. I’m supposed to meet Ashley early by the lockers today, so if you’re not downstairs in twenty minutes, I’m leaving without you.” She stomped off before I could reply.
As much as I would’ve loved to have laid in bed a little longer, I knew it wasn’t an idle threat. If I didn’t make it downstairs on time, Lily would take the Jeep and leave me to walk to school. Her and I shared a Jeep, although she used it more often than not. The girl collected extracurricular activities like books – if it wasn’t cheer practice or warrior training, she was bouncing between parties or friend hangouts.
So as not to get left behind or end up walking to school, I got dressed as quickly as I could. My outfit of choice was my favorite well-worn jeans, a blue tanktop, and my favorite cotton zip-up hoodie. I didn’t bother with makeup, but I did pull my thick, red hair into a ponytail and give myself a final glance in the mirror.
My hair was probably my best feature, although it distinguished me from the rest of the family. I had the same hair and eyes as my mom: dark brown eyes and long, frizzy red hair that I could never manage to completely tame. In fact, it was more than just my eyes or my hair. My mom and I also shared the same pale skin that burned too easily and scattered freckles on our faces.
As a kid, when I still lived with my mom, people used to comment that we were identical. When I showed up to live with him, my dad had made a similar comment. He’d told me I was the spitting image of my mother.
I still remembered the moment I saw my dad for the first time. I was eleven.
My mom drove us to his house, although she never say we were going to see my father.
All she’d told me was that she was going away for a little while, and that I was going to stay with family. That wasn’t unusual. When my mom said she was “going away for awhile,” it really meant that she had met a new guy and they were going to run off to god-knows-where and get high together. Even at eleven, I knew that was happening – and I knew the various friends that my mom pawned me off on while she was gone weren’t really “aunts” and “uncles.”
When we ended up on my dad’s doorstep instead, I assumed he was just another friend of my mom’s. He had looked shocked to see her. His whole face went white, and he barely managed to stutter out an invitation inside.
Grace had been there too, and we made chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen while my mom and dad talked in hushed voices in the other room. They were in there awhile, long enough for the cookies to bake and eat them out of the oven. D
When they did finally come back into the room, my dad still had that same shocked. look on his face, and he looked like he was on the verge of tears. This time, I was the one who got pulled aside. He explained to me that he was my dad, and I’d be staying with him for good. He’d said my mom was leaving to figure some things out, and I wouldn’t be seeing her for awhile. @
He was right.
Seven years later, and I still hadn’t seen my mom again.
She disappeared that night, and my dad and Grace had been the only parents I’d known since. Q
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