(Isla)
I heard the words clearly.
The room was quiet enough that there was no possibility of mishearing them. He'd said them plainly, without hesitation, without any of the careful packaging that people used when they were saying something they weren't sure of. Just the words, flat and direct, the same way he said everything.
Isla is my mate.
I stood where I was and I let the words sit in front of me and I tried to make sense of them.
Mate bonds were something I knew about the way I knew about most things in pack life, from the outside, from watching other people experience them, from listening to conversations I wasn't supposed to be part of. I knew what they were. The pull between two wolves whose animals recognised each other. The bond that formed when two people were meant to be p
