Embrace the wild

My Mate

As soon as Caith stepped into the bar, something in him snapped. Not figuratively. Literally snapped. A cord pulled tight in his chest, fierce and sudden. Every instinct, every cell, every animal inside him howled—right here, right now, was everything. Nothing else mattered.

He scanned the room. Patrons nursed beers, the jukebox whined, and clutter filled the small-town bar. But for him, the world had narrowed to a single, undeniable point.

And then he saw the glass of water. One glass, alone. No one around it.

Great. Hydration. That’s lighting up my nervous system. Makes perfect sense.

He moved closer, trying to maintain clinical detachment. His wolf didn’t care about detachment. His wolf wanted blood, territory, and to make this human, a heaving pile of bones, kneel in acknowledgment of the girl sitting at the bar.

The smell hit him next. Heather and… home. Warmth. Safety. Her.

He looked. And she was there. Blonde hair like sunlight caught in ice. The skin was so pale that it could have been moonlight. Lips that might as well have been forged in temptation itself. She was everything his body recognized before his brain could even register it.

Mate, the word slashed through him.

The dynamic inside him snapped again: the wolf lunged internally, hunger and claim surging, while his human side froze, powerless. Time slowed, and each side of him locked in a tense standoff.

Then she tripped. Over a chair. Head slammed into the bar.

Excellent. Not only have I just found my mate, but she’s also auditioning for near-death by furniture. Perfect. Fantastic.

He was at her side in a heartbeat. He shoved hair from her face. Her shallow breathing proved she was alive. The wolf inside him growled a promise: No one is allowed to hurt her again.

He scooped her up. Instinct screamed: Touch her and die. World touches her, burns it to ash.

The bartender approached. Caith didn’t register her. She spoke to take her home, like she already knew. He didn’t care. The world was now a perimeter around her. Look wrong, feel his wrath before she woke.

He set her in his truck, steering forgotten for a heartbeat. Thoughts were secondary. Protection came first—burn-everything-to-the-ground-first.

Pulling into his driveway, Fletcher and Seth waited. Questions loomed—irrelevant. He needed to make sure she was safe. Anyone between her and safety? Disposable. Necessary casualties in a war already begun.

He carried her inside, up the stairs, into his room. She was his territory. His responsibility. The world had better remember.

He set her on the bed. His wolf circled, warning intruders, ready to tear apart anyone who breached. Caith ignored all else. She was breathing. That was enough to fuel his obsession and protection.

Run if you want, mate. Every step, I’m behind you. If anyone touches you, I’ll make the ground weep, the skies burn, and every soul learn what it’s like to face the thing that hunts the world for you.

He lingered, memorizing her face for his instinctual ledger of ownership and guardianship. Then he went downstairs, where Fletcher and Seth waited—carefully omitting how the world just became a hazard zone around her.

Let them ask questions. Let them realize what has changed. This is mine now. Mine alone. I will stop at nothing.

Caith stood at the bottom of the stairs, every nerve on fire, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap. Allie was upstairs, his, and that simple fact made the world feel like a cage of threats, every shadow a potential predator. Every moment she breathed without him immediately nearby was an invitation for disaster.

If anyone so much as thinks about touching her, they die. I don’t care if it’s human, wolf, or some cosmic i***t—I’ll erase them. Burn the city. Flood the countryside. Flatten the world if that’s what it takes. She’s mine. Every molecule, every heartbeat, every breath. And anyone who forgets that will regret it for all eternity.

He descended the stairs, trying to modulate his expression. His brothers were watching. They always watched. And right now, the wolf inside him was dragging his teeth across his ribs, screaming to burst free and mark its territory, to remind the universe who she belonged to.

Don’t scare them. Don’t scare them. Keep it contained, Caith. Just… pretend like you’re a functioning human alpha instead of a monster with a soul tethered to the most beautiful and infuriating creature alive.

“I… she’s here,” he said finally, voice tight, clipped, like a steel trap closing around a bone.

Fletcher’s raised eyebrow and Seth’s casual lean against the counter made him grit his teeth. They see it. They see everything. They know the storm inside me and they don’t even flinch. Bastards. Good, but irritating.

“She’s yours,” Seth said, casually, almost bored. “We see it.”

Yes. You see it. You get it. That’s good. They don’t need to know how badly I want to tear apart anyone who even looks at her wrong. That’s a bonus. My wolf already has the map of destruction in its mind. Step one: anyone in this bar. Step two: the city. Step three: the world if necessary. All for her.

Fletcher nodded. “Exactly. Your mate. Not ours to fuss over. Not anyone else’s. She’s… yours. And we respect that.”

Caith’s chest tightened. Possessiveness throbbed like a second heartbeat, cold, sharp, and uncompromising. Mine. Mine. Mine. He could already feel it—the calculation of who she might encounter, who might pose even the slightest threat, and how quickly he would annihilate them. His mind sketched out scenarios with surgical precision, each one darker than the last.

Someone trips over her? Burn the sidewalk. Someone sneezes near her? Collapse the building. Someone dares to exist near her without my permission? Level the earth. She is my mate. Mine. And the world will learn that before the first cup of coffee tomorrow morning.

He straightened, trying to cloak the predatory tension coiling around his limbs. “Good. Then we proceed. Normal operations. For now.”

Seth smirked, catching the undercurrent in his tone. Oh, they know. They know the storm that will rain down if anyone touches her. They just don’t say it.

And Caith? He didn’t need them to say it. He could feel it vibrating in the room, like a current. And the wolf in his chest throbbed, impatient, ready to pounce, ready to obliterate anything in the way of its mate.

Everything is hers. Every second. Every heartbeat. And if anyone forgets that? They will burn. Oh yes. They will burn. And I’ll watch the flames, smile, and make sure the ashes know who she belongs to.

His gaze flicked upward, to where she slept peacefully, oblivious to the storm of obsession, darkness, and absolute, terrifying devotion that now defined his existence. A slow, predatory grin tugged at his lips.

You run, I follow. You breathe, I claim it. You live, and the world dies before I let anyone threaten you. She’s mine. And I will make sure the universe remembers that fact.