Chapter Six
1466 Words
Eighteen is a big day for wolves.
You can get your wolf early like George or Rowan had, but the eighteenth birthday is the last year your wolf will rise. For example, like with hybrids, you won't know for sure if you have a wolf or not until your eighteenth. This birthday is what marks you as a fully grown wolf and no longer a pup, which means from that day forward, you can find your mate.
Today, Rowan was eighteen.
He had already shifted years ago, but he has yet to receive his full beta mark. Maybe it just isn't his time yet.
Rowan and George were doing laps around the forest for training when they circled back to the packhouse for break time.
Then Rowan stopped so suddenly, George nearly crashed into him.
He stood frozen, breath knocked from his lungs, his wolf howling inside him.
George looked at him, alarmed. “Rowan?”
Rowan’s chest heaved. His hands shook.
“She’s mine.”
Without another word he sprints forward.
He look towards his line of sight and oh no...
George knows what's happening and darts off to try and keep up.
The steady rhythm of fists meeting flesh, the crunch of boots digging into damp earth, the clashing breath of effort and focus, this was where Asha thrived. The training field. The only place she felt close to something real.
Her body moved on instinct, precise yet powerful, controlled. She landed a blow, grinning at her sparring partner, Jason. She felt good today. Strong.
Then… the air shifted.
A prickling sensation crawled up her spine.
She sensed someone approaching before she saw him. Felt a presence cut through the noise like a blade through silence.
Her partner faltered, gaze flicking over her shoulder and she turns.
It was him, Rowan, the soon-to-be beta. Her cousin George’s best friend. Popular, reliable, always polite, but something was off. His eyes… they glowed.
She barely had time to react before he shoved her partner aside and stepped into her space.
“Mate,” he growled.
...What?
“He did not just say....” Jason says mouth agape looking between them.
Before the word fully registered, he grabbed her hand.
Pain.
A static sting that burned through her palm and up her arm like icy needles. Not the warmth or fire people talked about. Not the bond she’d dreamed of. It was a jolt, not a spark. A tingle, but it hurt.
And then… nothing.
Just as fast as it came, the sensation disappeared.
She pulled her hand away quickly, heart thudding against her ribs.
“I… You’re mistaken,” she said. “I don’t have a wolf. I can’t have a mate.”
His expression shifted, a mask sliding into place, his smile tight, eyes hard.
“My wolf can feel you,” he said, voice lower. “You are my mate. You are strong and wolf blood flows in you even without a wolf. I’ll be wolf enough for the both of us.”
Her skin prickled again, but this time with unease.
Before she could step back, his arm slid around her waist, pulling her in.
“You were always mine, even if you didn’t know it yet. I will wait until it is time to claim you.”
She stiffened.
Nothing.
No warmth. No spark. Just him.
And inside her, something stirred.
A distant presence caught off guard.
Confused.
I didn't know it yet, but it was my wolf.
But just as quickly as it surfaced, it slipped away like smoke.
She forced a smile, fighting the churn in her stomach. “I need to go to the bathroom,” she said quickly, and slipped from his grasp.
As she walked away picking up her pace as she goes until she was running, her fingers still tingled, not with connection, but with warning.
And just like that, she was gone.
Rowan stood there, chest heaving, hand still tingling where she’d touched him. Where the bond should’ve sparked and caught fire.
But it didn’t.
It fizzled. Stung. Went cold.
His ears rang.
He didn’t notice George until he was suddenly at his side.
“Rowan,” George said, voice quiet but edged. “What the hell was that?”
Rowan didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His tongue was thick in his mouth.
Jason approached slower, eyes sharp and unreadable. He said nothing either. Just stood a few feet away, arms crossed, like he didn’t trust Rowan to stay in his lane.
He didn’t.
Rowan’s thoughts were spiraling.
...You lost her...
Soren’s voice cut through the noise like a blade.
...You scared her. You touched her too soon...
“I didn’t mean to,” Rowan whispered. “I just… I knew. I felt it. So did you.”
...She didn’t...
“I could see it in her, something flickered. She felt something.”
...Fear...
The word sat like ash in his mouth.
George exhaled. “Look… I believe you think she’s your mate. I do. But Rowan, that’s not how you do it. She looked, she looked terrified.”
“She doesn’t know what the bond feels like,” Rowan said, harsher than he meant. “She doesn’t even have a wolf. How would she know?”
Jason finally spoke, dry and quiet. “Maybe because she doesn’t have a wolf, you should’ve asked instead of grabbed.”
Rowan’s jaw clenched.
George stepped between them slightly, sensing the shift. “Enough.”
Jason shrugged and stepped back. “I’m just saying.”
“I didn’t mean to scare her,” Rowan said again, quieter. “I just… I’ve felt it for so long. I thought she might feel it too. Maybe she’s just not ready to know.”
...Maybe not ours... Soren offered, not unkindly.
Rowan recoiled at that thought. “No,” he murmured. “She’s mine.”
George looked at him then, not with anger, but with disappointment. A kind of tired grief.
“Maybe,” George said, voice low, “but you still don’t own her.”
That landed heavier than any blow.
No one said anything for a moment. The training grounds had gone quiet.
Then Jason turned and walked off without another word.
George lingered, studying Rowan like he didn’t know what he was looking at anymore.
Part of him wanted to believe this was just the shock of the bond. The other part… the part that had grown up with Asha, that saw the way her hands had trembled… wanted to deck him.
“I’ll talk to her,” George said finally. “But give her space. Don’t make this worse.”
Rowan didn’t answer.
He couldn’t.
Because deep down, the part of him that still listened to Soren was whispering something he didn’t want to hear.
Maybe he already had.
***
The bathroom door slammed behind Asha and she braced both hands on the sink, chest rising and falling like she’d just run ten miles. Her palm still buzzed, but not with warmth. It was cold now. Hollow.
“Okay,” she muttered, eyes locked on her reflection. “What the f**k was that?!”
She stared at her hands. The one he touched still tingled, like a limb waking from being asleep. “A mate? Seriously? I don’t even have a wolf. How does that even work?”
Her mind replayed it again and again. Rowan’s glowing eyes, the pressure of his hand, the… sting. A spark? Or something else?
“That feeling… was that supposed to be the mate bond?” She scoffed.
“It felt like someone punched me with a live wire. That’s not what people describe. That’s not… right.”
She ran a hand through her hair, pacing now, trying to calm the rising panic.
“He’s not a bad guy. He creeped me out for a second there sure, but he’s always been decent, hasn’t he? Maybe the bond just… I don’t know, needs time? Maybe I'm just too young to feel it yet?”
She turned back toward the mirror, trying to convince herself. “If we’re mates, I should try to get to know him. Right?”
But as the last word left her lips, she froze.
In the mirror, just over her shoulder, someone stood in the corner of the room.
A figure cloaked in shadows.
A woman.
Wearing a thin, flowing dress that shimmered faintly in a muted violet hue.
The figure didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Just watched.
Asha whipped around, breath caught in her throat.
Empty.
The corner was bare. Silent. Still.
Her heart pounded in her ears.
“Nope,” she whispered, not even bothering to look back at the mirror again.
She threw open the door and ran-one word echoing louder than the slam behind her,
...Soon...
- Writer
