You Are Mine
1908 Words
Warmth.
That was the first thing I felt.
A deep, heavy warmth pressed against my side, sinking into my bones like sunlight after a winter storm. Something soft brushed my cheek—like someone’s breath, steady and close.
A low rumble vibrated in the air.
A growl?
A purr?
I couldn’t tell.
I slowly opened my eyes.
Darkness.
Faint light.
Wooden beams overhead.
A fire crackling somewhere close.
And a stranger.
The same stranger.
The impossible man from the snow—the one with the silver eyes—was sitting beside the bed I lay in, his massive frame leaned forward, forearms braced on his knees. His head was bowed, dark hair falling over his forehead, shadows cutting across his sharp jaw.
He wasn’t asleep.
He was listening.
To me.
To my breathing.
Studying me with the intensity of a predator guarding prey—or something far more intimate.
I froze, heart pounding.
The room wasn’t familiar. It wasn’t Ryan’s. It wasn’t mine. It wasn’t any place I’d ever seen.
The bed was huge—wooden, carved, sturdy. Thick fur blankets were layered over me. The smell of pine and firewood filled the air. The walls were stone and warm amber light flickered from lanterns hanging above.
A cabin?
A lodge?
Somewhere deep in the woods.
My pulse spiked. I jerked upright—and immediately regretted it. A wave of dizziness crashed through my skull and I winced, pressing a hand to my forehead.
The stranger’s head snapped up instantly.
“Easy.”
His voice was low, rough, and strangely soothing. He rose from the chair in one smooth motion—liquid control, predatory grace. He crossed the room in a single step and sat on the edge of the bed, close enough that heat radiated off him.
Too close.
My breath caught.
“You fainted,” he said calmly.
I stared at him, unable to look away.
He was even more intense in the firelight. His skin was sun-kissed, his shoulders broad enough to block half the room, his hands large and calloused. His eyes—still silver, still unreal—glowed faintly like moonlight trapped in ice.
He was handsome in a way that felt dangerous.
Wrong.
Impossible.
And yet… he looked at me with an expression I didn’t understand. Something fierce. Something protective. Something that made my chest tighten.
I swallowed hard. “I—where am I?”
“Safe,” he said.
“That’s not an answer.”
He exhaled slowly, as if struggling with something.
“You’re in my territory,” he finally murmured.
Territory.
Not home.
Not house.
Territory.
My spine tingled.
I shifted away from him, pulling the fur blanket up defensively.
“Why am I here? Who are you?”
His jaw worked. He seemed to choose every word carefully.
“My name is Damian Blackthorn.”
Damian.
The name felt familiar and foreign at the same time. Like something ancient. Heavy. Powerful.
“And you fainted,” he continued. “My wolf scared you.”
I froze.
My… what?
“Your—your what?” I whispered.
His eyes flickered, glowing brighter.
“Wolf,” he repeated softly. “I didn’t mean to lose control. Seeing you cry… my instincts reacted.”
I stared at him, heart thundering.
He couldn’t be serious.
This was insane.
People didn’t have wolves. People didn’t have glowing eyes or strength that bent the air around them.
People didn’t call strangers mine.
“You’re joking,” I said, voice trembling. “Or hallucinating. Or I hit my head and—”
“You didn’t hit your head.”
His voice was a deep rumble, patient but unyielding.
“You’re lying,” I insisted. “Wolves aren’t real.”
He leaned closer, his scent—pine and smoke and something wild—curling around me.
“Werewolves are.”
My breath hitched.
I laughed.
I actually laughed.
A short, hysterical sound.
“Okay. Sure. Perfect. This is a nightmare. My boyfriend cheats on me, I faint in a snowbank, and now I’m kidnapped by a delusional man who thinks he’s a wolf.”
His eyes narrowed slightly—not offended, but amused.
“You’re not kidnapped,” he corrected.
“Really? Because I’m in a cabin in the middle of nowhere and I don’t remember how I got here.”
“I carried you,” he said simply.
My stomach flipped.
“I—I don’t even know you.”
His gaze softened at the edges. “Your name is Ariana Hale. You’re twenty-two. Your favorite season is autumn. You love cinnamon drinks and you’re afraid of thunderstorms because of what happened when you were nine.”
My mouth fell open.
“How—how could you possibly—?”
“The bond,” he said quietly. “It showed me.”
“The what?”
“The mate bond.”
A buzzing filled my ears.
No.
No. Absolutely not.
Mate?
Bond?
This was insane.
I pushed the blankets off and swung my legs over the bed. The floor was shockingly warm beneath my feet, heated by the stone hearth.
“I think I should go.”
“You can’t,” Damian said, rising to his full, intimidating height.
I stepped back instinctively.
He froze.
Pain flickered through his eyes as if my fear physically hurt him.
He lifted his hands slowly, palms out. “I won’t hurt you. Ever.”
My heartbeat hammered against my ribs.
“Why bring me here?” I whispered. “Why me?”
He looked at me like the question broke him.
“Because you’re my mate.”
My breath stopped.
“I don’t even know what that means.”
He stepped closer—carefully, gently, like approaching something fragile.
“It means you’re the other half of my soul,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “It means you’re the one fate created for me. The one my wolf chose. The one I’ve searched for my entire life.”
My pulse raced so fast it felt like my heart might burst.
“I’m human,” I said desperately.
He nodded once. “Yes.”
“I’m not a werewolf.”
“No.”
“I can’t—this—this can’t be real—”
“Ariana,” he murmured, taking another slow step closer. “Look at me.”
I didn’t want to.
I couldn’t.
But my eyes lifted anyway.
His eyes glowed again—a molten silver that wasn’t human.
He took a deep breath.
Then he did something that stole the air from my lungs.
He let it happen.
His wolf.
His bones didn’t crack. His body didn’t transform. It wasn’t a full shift.
But his eyes flashed into pure, predatory silver.
His pupils thinned.
His canines lengthened ever so slightly.
His shoulders broadened, muscles tightening under his shirt.
A low growl rumbled from his chest—deep, powerful, primal.
My knees weakened.
Fear shot through me—but so did something else. Something electric and hot and terrifyingly magnetic.
Damian inhaled sharply—like my reaction fed something inside him.
Then he blinked and the wolf receded.
His human features settled back, though his eyes remained bright.
I stumbled backward, pressing a hand to my chest.
“This is too much.”
“I know.” His voice was rough with sincerity. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t move toward me.
He didn’t touch me.
He didn’t force anything.
He just stood there, hands at his sides, breathing deeply as if trying to keep himself under control.
“I should hate you,” I whispered. “I should be terrified of you.”
“You are,” he said softly. “And you have every right to be.”
My throat tightened.
“But I don’t hate you,” I admitted quietly. “I should. But I don’t.”
He closed his eyes like the words were a prayer.
When he opened them, his expression was raw—devoted, reverent, desperate.
“I felt your pain," he murmured. “Through the bond. It nearly drove me mad. I couldn’t leave you in the snow. I couldn’t let you suffer alone.”
I swallowed hard.
My voice trembled. “Ryan—my ex—does he know what you are?”
“No,” Damian said, the word cutting like steel. “He only saw enough to fear me.”
“What did you do to him?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Yet.”
My breath caught.
“He hurt you,” Damian continued, voice vibrating with restrained rage. “If you gave me the word, Ariana—just one word—I would make sure he never touched you again.”
My heart skipped.
Part of me wanted that.
Part of me screamed that this was insane.
I tightened my grip on the blanket around my shoulders.
“I need to go home,” I said weakly. “I need—time. I need space.”
Damian’s jaw flexed.
“You can’t leave.”
“Excuse me?”
“The bond has begun,” he said, stepping closer. “If you leave the protection of my territory now, rogues could sense you. Other Alphas could try to take you. You’re unmarked. Unprotected.”
My stomach twisted.
Unmarked.
Protected.
I felt like I’d fallen into another world.
“And if I stay?” I whispered.
His expression softened in a way that made my pulse race.
“If you stay,” Damian murmured, voice dropping to something that made my skin heat, “I will protect you. With everything I am. You’ll be safe. You’ll be cared for. You’ll be worshipped.”
My breath caught.
He watched me with that unreadable, burning stare.
“You don’t want me,” I whispered. “You don’t know me.”
He shook his head slowly.
“I know your soul,” he said. “And my wolf has known you since the moment we scented you.”
Heat flushed through me.
“That’s—you can’t—people don’t just—”
He stepped closer, close enough that I felt his breath.
“I don’t expect you to accept me now,” he murmured. “Or to understand the bond. Or to trust me.”
He reached out—slow, careful—and brushed his fingers lightly against mine.
A spark shot up my arm, searing hot.
I gasped.
Damian inhaled sharply, eyes darkening.
“That,” he whispered, “is the bond. I feel it too.”
My knees weakened.
“I will go as slow as you need,” he promised. “I will earn every ounce of your trust. I will wait for you—however long it takes. But I will not let you face this world alone.”
Tears burned behind my eyes.
“I’m not asking you to be mine today,” he said.
He leaned in, voice dropping to a breath against my ear.
“But someday—you will be.”
I shivered, breath hitching.
Damian pulled back just enough for me to meet his gaze.
“Rest,” he said gently. “I’ll be right here.”
My eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion crashing over me.
But the last thing I felt before the darkness took me again—
Was warmth.
Safety.
And the weight of a silver-eyed stranger’s promise heavy in the air.
- Writer
