What's the Mate Bond Got to Do With It

The cool November breeze ran up his thick white wolf fur. At the same time, Darien felt molten lava like heat radiating from his left paw to his front shoulder. There lodged between his claws, a tiny black spearhead. Using his muzzle, he tried to pull the spearhead out. It didn't work. He shakes his front paw and for the life of him it will not budge. He looks around to see if he can use a tree trunk or a boulder to get it out. The spearhead couldn't just be made of silver as Darien had grown an immunity to it. Panic sets in as he starts seeing black spots. The pain is nothing he's ever experienced thus far in his 21 years of life. He tried to mind-link to any pack members nearby. Of course, he got carried away in chasing after Erickson, the Vampire Kings' right-hand man. Not realizing he had separated from the rest of the pack warriors. If he got through this alive, Darien thought, he was likely to get an earful from his mother, the Alpha Luna. With that last thought, he succumbed to darkness. *** The next day, though it was still chilly, the winter sun grazed itself upon the forest. The usual buzzing sounds of life filled the air. Thirteen-year-old Veronica was skipping along the trail in search of plants and herbs. Mother always told her to never wonder too far off from their property, but she couldn't help it. There was so much out here to explore. Plus, she was always careful and made sure to return at a reasonable hour so no one would notice she had wandered farther than promised. Humming to herself, the crisp sounds of winter dew beneath her black ankle, Doc Martens boots make her steps more audible when she spots a bushel of aloe vera. As she bent down to inspect its leaves, she instinctively stopped in her tracks. The small hairs on her neck prickle up as she becomes aware of something familiar, but foreign. Her nose catches a whiff of cedarwood mixed with coppery. That coppery smell was familiar to Veronica's nose as her eyes tried to find who or what it was that was bleeding. *** The cool ocean breeze rippled through Darien's blue button-up shirt. The sweet alluring smell of gardenias and an invisible pull drew him to a woman with long silver hair. He couldn't see her face. She wore a long emerald colored dress that touched the white sand. Her warm olive skin glistened in the sun. As he approached her, she turned to look at him when he woke up. Darien's gray eyes were immediately fixed on the little person in front of him. He was baring his canine teeth as he howled in pain. The little person stepped back as if she expected Darien's reaction. "I'm sorry," she quietly said with her small hands raised. Darien noticed she held the black spearhead that was once lodged in his paw. He put his head down with both paws on each side, hoping to show he was not going to hurt her. She smelled of fresh gardenias, he thought, like in his dream, but this person was a child. The little girl slowly put her hands down, still holding the spearhead. "I mean you no harm," she says in an even tone. "You need your wound dressed," she nods towards Darien's left paw. Darien lifted his head, inspecting the little girl before him. She was wearing an over-sized brown hoodie with loose faded black sweats. Her sweats were unevenly tucked behind her Doc Marten's that had seen better days. She wore a camouflage bandanna at the crown of her head. Her black hair neatly braided in dutch-style braids framing her heart-shaped face. Her black brows furrowed with sweat glistening from the sun's rays. Using her right hand to push up her black rimmed glasses, she says, "I can dress your wound if you let me." Even though he normally could heal quickly, something about this wound was different. It stopped him from changing back to his human form and his strength was close to none. Darien readily allowed the child to dress his wound by putting out his left paw to her. She picked up her bag and knelt down before Darien to dress his wound. At first, he decided it was best to look away, but something in him couldn't help it. He noted her scent was that of part wolf and perhaps human. He couldn't tell for sure about the other half, as she didn't smell completely of a wolf. He was still getting used to his growing ability to differentiate between wolves, humans, vampires, lycans and any other creature. "I don't know who did this to you, but whoever it was, really wanted you to suffer," her innocent voice interrupted Darien's thoughts. She warned, "This is going to hurt." With that, she dug deep into his left paw with surgical tweezers. Darien winced in pain which likely sounded more of a whimper. She pulled out what looked like a thorn. "If left longer in your paw, it will eventually find its way to your heart and kill you," she says while inspecting the thorn-like object. "Its foxtail seed. Small, but deadly little suckers," she continued. Darien was amused by this little girl's knowledge and ability to help him in his current state. "My mum is a doctor," she pauses rummaging through her bag and continues, "I often help her when there are multiple patients." She finds what she is looking for and opens a small plastic container. She gestures toward the compact container in her small hands and its contents, "this is my mum's homemade healing ointment. This should help your body to self-heal." At first when she reaches over to rub ointment on Darien's wound, he flinches. Not because it hurts, the sensation of this child's touch reaches a part of Darien that he does not fully understand, but has heard of. "Sorry, " she fidgets, misunderstanding what had just occurred, she stops, "I'm almost done." Darien just stares back at the little person before him as if he expected the answer to his curiosity would just jump out at him. Of course, it didn't. He sighs and looks away, but is fully aware of the sensations coursing through him due to the proximity of this little girl. She continues to dress his wound. Taking off her bandanna, she places it on top of the wound and wraps guaze around his huge paw. She stands back, looks up at Darien and smiles, stating, "All done." Darien just looked at her. As if she could read his mind, she then straightened herself and with pride said, "I am Veronica Hart." Darien now knew the name of his mate.