Warrior's human mate

Chapter 3

Laila

I entered the living room and spotted a woman who looked to be in her forties, maybe? She seemed younger, but if that guy was her son, she must have been older. She was strikingly beautiful, with piercing green eyes and flowing blonde hair. The blurry pixels during our video calls did nothing to do justice to her natural beauty, but now, standing before her in person, she looked absolutely stunning.

I quickly approached and extended my hand.

"Hello, Mrs. Montgomery, I’m sorry I’m a bit late."

She smiled warmly at me, her expression lighting up the room.

"Oh, don’t worry, dear! Welcome! Come in and sit down, Miss Apine! I hope I pronounced that correctly."

She didn’t quite get my surname right, but I kept my smile in place.

"Can I call you Laila?"

She smiled back, perhaps sensing the slight confusion in my face over the mispronunciation.

"Of course!" I replied, my tone friendly and reassuring.

"I was just sipping my tea. It’s my day off, so I’m not in any rush at all."

Her voice carried a comforting, almost motherly warmth. During our video calls, she had always seemed like a kind lady, and now, standing in front of her, I could see that it was true.

"Good to know," I said, smiling as I sat down on the beige sofa next to her. I started pulling out my laptop and portfolio, setting them on the glass coffee table in front of me. The living room was grand and elegant, with a posh Victorian-style decor—gold-toned curtains, a sand-colored oriental carpet, golden chandeliers, and countless paintings adorning the walls. There were five matching beige sofas in this one room alone. They must entertain guests often, I thought. I’d seen this room in photos and videos countless times, but now, standing in it, I already had a vision of what it would look like after the renovations.

"So, now that I’m finally here, let’s go over the details again," I began, glancing at her. "If, in the time since we last spoke, you’ve had any new ideas or if there’s anything you’d like to change, please let me know now."

I looked at her expectantly while continuing to pull out my materials. She seemed to be thinking for a moment before shaking her head.

"No, no new ideas or changes. I think you’ve really nailed the project, down to the smallest detail."

She smiled brightly at me, and I returned her smile with genuine appreciation.

"Good to know," I said. "Let’s just confirm everything again and go through the timeline."

At that moment, I heard the footsteps of the man I had seen earlier on the stairs. I didn’t look at him, but his presence was impossible to ignore. I could feel him approaching out of the corner of my eye, and his proximity was undeniably distracting. I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. There was no need to keep drooling over him; I’d already done enough of that.

I unlocked my laptop, beginning to click through various files related to the project. Despite my efforts to concentrate, I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between Mrs. Montgomery and her son.

"Ah, good morning, honey! Breakfast is in the kitchen. I’ll be having a short meeting with the house redecoration project manager here, and then I’ll join you."

Her voice was sweet as she spoke to him, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that was really her son. Wah, who cares?

"Will I bother you if I stay here?"

The guy’s deep baritone sent shivers down my spine. What the hell? Who reacts like this to just a voice? This had to be a red flag for me. I quickly glanced at him before forcing my eyes back to the screen. Now that he was in the room, I started to feel this strange nervousness creeping in. Why was a guy making me anxious? Was it a bad intuition thing, something I had felt as I drove here? Could he jeopardize the entire project? Should I be extra nice to him? I imagined my bosses would be furious if this project got canceled.

Am I overthinking this? Nothing has happened yet. But my hands were slightly trembling as I typed on the keyboard. f***k. Get a grip! I can do this. It's not my first day in the market. I've handled tough clients before. The silence between Mrs. Montgomery and her son stretched on, until finally, she responded.

"Well, sure, honey... Come, sit! This is Laila. She’s from the Décor&Design company. As I mentioned, she’ll be the one redecorating our house. You probably remember that one of my good friends gave a glowing review of their work, and now, seeing the results for myself, I’m confident we’ll be in good hands. I truly believe Laila will make our modest home beautiful."

Her tone was sincere, which was a relief—when dealing with wealthy people, you could never be too sure what to expect. I smiled politely as she praised me and the company. It felt good to know that word of mouth had spread. Positive reviews meant more business, more opportunities, and, of course, more money.

"Thank you for the kind words, Mrs. Montgomery. I truly hope you’ll be as pleased with the results as I am. This project is especially interesting to me, and I’m excited about it."

I smiled genuinely at her. What I said wasn’t just a corporate response—it was true. I did enjoy the project, and it was one I was invested in.

Meanwhile, the handsome guy... I still didn’t know his name, and Mrs. Montgomery only referred to him as “honey.” So, Mr. Playboy had made himself comfortable on the opposite sofa, eyes fixed on us. I didn’t say anything; I just nodded at him with a tight smile. I was relieved that there was some distance, with a table separating us. The last thing I needed was him brushing up against me. The thought alone sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. What the h.ell? I couldn't dwell on that now—I had work to do.

I focused on reviewing the design ideas again, showing Mrs. Montgomery the pictures. But in my peripheral vision, I could feel Mr. Playboy’s intense gaze. I wasn’t sure how involved he was in the project, since all my conversations had been with Mrs. Montgomery. But I thought he might want to see the designs too. When I looked at him directly, it became clear: he wasn’t looking at the pictures at all. His eyes were locked on me, his attention entirely on me, not the work I was presenting.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

"Sir, would you like to see the project designs as well?"

He didn’t respond immediately, just continued staring at me with that blank expression. Did he hear me? His eyes were fixed on me, but it didn’t seem like he had caught a single word I said. Was this...?

"Mr. Montgomery?"

I asked again, a frown tugging at my brow. Did he not hear me? Was he zoning out while we discussed the project?

"Oh, I’m sorry... What were you saying?"

Are you for real? Had he honestly not heard a word I said? I thought he wanted to be involved, to see everything firsthand. As I looked into his eyes—his strikingly blue eyes—it was like I lost my train of thought for a moment. Something about those deep blues, his sharp jawline, his model-like face, and his well-built physique made my heart whisper that I could fall for a guy like him. But that whisper sent an instant alarm ringing in my rational mind. No. I don’t do model-perfect, I don’t do rich, I don’t do Americans, and I sure as h.ell don’t mix business with pleasure. A big fat NO.

Focus on the work. Get it together!

"Would you like to see the ideas for the redecoration?" I asked again, forcing a neutral expression onto my face. Let’s stay professional. I’ve got this.

"Sure!" he replied, giving a careless shrug.

What the...? His words didn’t quite match his actions, did they?

James

When I entered the living room and tried to join their conversation, I noticed my mother giving me a longer-than-usual look. Normally, I was always starving in the mornings, and food was the first thing on my mind before even exchanging “good mornings” with anyone in the family. But today, I bet she could tell something was off with me. It wasn’t easy to hide it, especially when the reason for my distraction was sitting right in front of me.

My mate.

She was at my house. Just sitting there, completely unaware of what she was to me. She didn’t know what a mate was, she didn’t know I was a werewolf, and worst of all, she had no idea that I was already feeling the bond pulling me toward her. I thought the waiting part had been the hardest, but I was starting to realize there was still a long road ahead.

So, it turned out that she was the redecorator we had hired. That was good. She would be around the house a lot more now. No need for me to call her over, she’d just be here, making her mark on our home—and maybe, unknowingly, on my heart.

Laila.

That name echoed in my mind for several minutes, and I couldn’t shake the thought of it. It suited her perfectly. Beautiful. Elegant. It felt like it was meant for her. Honestly, it was my new favorite word.

As she spoke with my mom, her voice reached my ears like a melody—so smooth and warm, I didn’t catch much of what she was saying, but I didn’t need to. The way her voice sounded to me was enough. It was a feeling I couldn’t explain, the pull of the bond was overwhelming. I'd only known her for twenty minutes, but already, I was falling for her. I could feel it in every part of me. This bond… It wasn’t just some mystical connection; it felt like a spell wrapping itself around my heart.

When she offered to show the designs to me, I pretended to focus on the pictures she showed. But truthfully, my attention was on her. I found myself glancing at her more than the papers in my hands. She was smart, articulate, and truly passionate about her work—a professional through and through. I couldn't help but feel proud that my mate was so accomplished, so skilled.

I picked up on a slight accent in her English, which told me she wasn’t from around here. I couldn’t help the curiosity that bubbled up inside me. Where was she from? What brought her to Denver? Was she here for good, or was she just passing through? I needed to know.

"Sorry," I interrupted their conversation, unable to hold back the question. "Do you live in Denver, or are you from Colorado?"

She turned her head toward me, giving me a soft smile.

"No, I’m not from here," she replied with a small smile, shaking her head.

"I thought so," I said with a grin. "I would’ve definitely noticed a beautiful face like yours around here."

She raised an eyebrow, and I saw a slight wrinkle between her brows. Was she... upset? Maybe I’d gone too far with the compliment. It was corny, I knew that. But I couldn’t help myself—she was stunning. It wasn’t my intention to make her uncomfortable, but that cheesy line just slipped out.

"I doubt that," she said with a slight chuckle. "This city has, what, 700,000 people? We could’ve easily never met. Besides, I just got here a few days ago. I’m only here for work, so after this project, I’m heading back home."

I took in a sharp breath. Her words, casual as they were, made me feel a pang of disappointment. She was only here temporarily. She was just passing through. That wasn’t good. It wasn’t good at all. But I’d figure it out. I needed to win her over quickly and make her stay with me for good.

"Where do you live, then?" I asked, pressing further.

"Well, you’ve probably never heard of it," she responded, brushing off the question. What did she mean by that? Was it some tiny, obscure town? But how could her company be so well-known then?

"Maybe I do know. I’ve traveled around. Or I could always Google it!" I added with a playful grin.

Her face softened a bit, her posture relaxing. She smiled just a little.

"I come from Latvia. Google 'Latvia' if you want," she said with a bright smile, her eyes glinting with a bit of mischief.

I furrowed my brows in confusion. "Hmm, never heard of that place in the States... I’ll have to Google it."

She knitted her brows but the smile on her face was barely contained, as if she was holding back a laugh. Was she... laughing at me? The look she gave me said something like, Are you for real? That confused me even more.

"Of course, you haven’t," she said, her tone playful but with a hint of mock scolding. "Because it’s not in the States. It’s in Europe."

What?!

"You live in Europe?!" I nearly shouted, sitting up straighter, my mind racing. My eyes were wide, and I’m pretty sure my mouth was hanging open.

Okay, she didn’t live in Denver, I could deal with that. But not even on this continent? She lived across the whole d.amn ocean? My mate... was from Europe?! My brain exploded with questions, each one chasing the other in fast-forward.

Was I even supposed to meet her if she was that far away? It made sense now why I hadn’t met her these past twelve years. She hadn’t been anywhere near me. I had so many questions, but before I could make sense of anything, fear and excitement mingled in my chest.

She was staring at me now, furrowing her brows as if I were a child asking d.umb questions.

"Yes?" she asked, her tone more questioning now.

"You can hear that I don’t have an American accent," she said, her scolding tone returning. Great, now it was official—she thought I was an i.diot who couldn’t recognize a basic geographical fact.

"I just thought you were coming from an immigrant family or something..." I mumbled, barely above a whisper.

"Well, an immigrant I am for sure!" she replied with that small, almost teasing smile.

I leaned back on the sofa, trying to play it cool. Chill, dude. Okay, she lives really far away. Very far. She’s never met her mate. She’s a human and doesn’t feel the bond the same way we do, but maybe... just maybe... this could work. I tried to talk myself into a positive mindset about this weird situation. But if I were being honest with myself, I’d rather just be next to her, resting my head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her intoxicating, fresh scent. That would calm me down for sure. I hadn’t experienced it yet, but I could already feel it—every bit of the bond. And now that she was right here, in front of me, I could absolutely believe it. My fingers were practically itching to touch her.

The meeting carried on around me, but my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t shake this frown on my face, not with so much going through my head. It felt like everything I’d known, my peaceful, predictable life, had been shattered. All because of one beautiful woman. My Mate. I smiled to myself, trying to relax. Because, by some weird and mystical coincidence, she was here—right in my house. I was one lucky bastard. No way would I have gone to Europe to look for my mate. Destiny was tricky like that. And in some twisted real-life plot, fate had brought My Love to me. I sure needed to send my grateful prayers to the Moon Goddess.

Eventually, my mom wrapped up the meeting. A few more points to finalize, but for the most part, it was done. Laila stood up, shaking my mom's hand with that bright smile of hers and talking about the success of the work they'd just completed. She was ready to leave.

I shot up. I was walking her out. I couldn’t help myself. As she moved, her scent washed over me—sweet, intoxicating. Her backside in that dress... My body tensed and d**k twitched. No. Not now. This wasn’t the time for those thoughts. But God, I wanted to hold her. I wanted to bury my face in her hair, take in her scent, and just... be with her.

I’d dreamed about these moments for years. Ever since I was a teenager, I wondered what my mate would smell like, everyone had their unique smell. My heart had ached back then, slowly bleeding out from longing. And now, even though my mate was standing just a meter away from me, it still felt like she was so far. So far emotionally. She was human, and she lived across the d.amn ocean. She planned to go back there after this project was over. I felt like a d.amn stray puppy, trailing after the first person to show me kindness. I could feel the pain in my chest, and I was sure it was written all over my face.

She put on her coat, and when she turned to face me, I saw the slight furrow in her brow.

"Are you okay, sir?"

What’s with the “sir”? Do I look that old? On the other hand, if she called me “sir” while riding me in bed, I wouldn't mind at all. I grinned at that thought. But that was jumping ahead—way ahead. Besides, I didn’t need to be thinking about that right now. She was here for a job, not to entertain me. How do you ask someone like her out on a date anyway?

"Are you busy later tonight?"

I tried, hoping she might say yes, my smile just a little too hopeful. I ignored her question, but I could feel the unease creeping in. Her eyebrows furrowed again. Why did I feel like I wasn’t her favorite person?

"Yes, I am. I need to finalize the details for your house project."

My heart sank. D.amn.

"I see…"

I said, my voice deflating and tinged with disappointment. She furrowed her eyebrows again and looked at me with confusion written all over her beautiful face. I scratched the back of my neck, trying to recover from my awkwardness.

"When... When are you coming back?"

Oh, great. I sounded lame. Normally, I was the confident, c.ocky guy, but right now? Right now, I felt dreadful. The way she kept furrowing her eyebrows at me wasn’t exactly doing wonders for my self-esteem. Funny, I didn’t even know I needed help with my self-esteem until now. Some epiphanies coming to light today, huh?

"You weren’t listening to our conversation with Mrs. Montgomery, were you?"

She squinted at me. Crap. I was caught. I gave her a sheepish look and shook my head.

"As agreed with Mrs. Montgomery, I’ll come on Wednesday with the construction team for an introduction and a walkthrough to finalize the details."

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek like a d.amn i.diot.

"I see… so, you’re probably busy tomorrow as well?"

What was I even hoping for? I couldn’t even ask her out properly. Where had that confident James gone—the one who could pick up girls with just a smile? Somewhere deep inside, I knew it wouldn’t work with her. The other girls would practically fall at my feet with one flash of a grin. But her? She furrowed her brows at me, like she couldn’t decide whether she was annoyed or just indifferent. The first glimmer of positivity from her was when she asked if I was okay. Maybe it wasn’t just gut feeling. Maybe the facts were clear. I had to approach this differently. She was my mate. She deserved the best of me.

A small smile played at the corners of her lips.

"I am," she replied with a curt nod.

"Thank you for walking me out, sir."

The formality was back, her expression now unreadable. I needed to stop this stiffness between us. It felt like a barrier I couldn’t break.

"Please, call me James," I said, almost pleading, offering her a bright smile.

A faint smile flickered on her lips again. It was something, at least. Progress? Maybe. But who was I kidding? It wasn’t a “yes” to a marriage proposal. Damn it! Still, I couldn’t suppress the inner satisfaction. I whistled in my head, the idea of having a mate to marry feeling strangely wonderful. I had a ring for her already in my mind. But, okay, okay—slow down. I was getting way ahead of myself. Yet there was a quiet confidence in me now, an unshakeable belief that things would work out. I needed that confidence, especially in a situation this confusing.

"As you wish... James."

She nodded at me, and I beamed. The way she said my name—there was something in the way it left her lips that made my hair stand on end, goosebumps racing down my spine. It hit me like a wave racing south. Goddess. Was this what it was like for everyone with their mate? Every single word, every detail, every little gesture—did they all feel this significant? I wasn’t sure. Should I ask someone? Nah. All that mattered was that she was mine. And already, I loved these little things about her—unbelievable. I’d met her less than two hours ago, yet my emotions were all over the place. Unbelievable, but true.

"Well, till another day? I’m not sure... Will you be here on Wednesday? I don’t know how much you’re involved in the project. I’ve just been talking to Mrs. Montgomery…"

Her words rushed out, and I could see the furrow in her brows again. Was she uncomfortable? It seemed like something was off, like a small wall between us. Shouldn’t she feel something of the bond? For me, she was home. But for her? I had no idea how she was processing this. She was human, an immigrant… there were complications ahead. But even with all that, she was still perfect. She was still mine. D.amn. I had to slow down. I was all over the place, riding a wave of emotions I could barely keep up with.

“If you are coming, I will be here for sure.”

I said it with a grin, flashing my pearly teeth. I wasn’t being overt, but I wanted her to get the message—she was mine. I had to make that clear, without pushing too hard.

“Oookay. Well then… Have a nice day, James!”

She nodded, her voice still formal, still professional. The polite distance was there, and it didn’t faze me. But then, a thought struck me, and without overthinking it, I extended my hand toward her. I smiled, bright and inviting. This was the moment I’d been waiting for—the sparks. I wanted to feel it. I wanted to experience that connection everyone kept talking about.

She hesitated, her gaze flicking to my hand for just a second. But slowly, almost cautiously, she placed her small hand in mine.

And in that moment, everything shifted.

The second our skin met, it was like a spark—an electric surge that shot through me, down to my very core. It felt like two pieces of a puzzle locking together, like magnets that had been separated for far too long finally snapping into place. Our eyes locked, and I felt it—the click.

Her hand was soft, but cold to the touch. And with that, the bond surged through me, electrifying my entire body. I could feel it everywhere, but most notably... below the belt.

Oh, damn. This was it—I have a b.oner.

Sh.it. Don’t look down. Not now.

Maan, how do you resist a mate bond? Or at least postpone it? The pull was undeniable. It was as if the universe itself was telling me to just take her right here, right now. But I knew it couldn’t be that simple. I couldn’t just grab her and run to my room—at least, not yet. I needed to win her over first.

But before I could gather my thoughts, she frowned, again. And just as quickly as she’d placed her hand in mine, she pulled it back, looking at it as though there was something wrong with it. She shot me a tight smile, almost like a reflex, then waved awkwardly before turning and hurrying to the door.

I stood frozen for a moment, the overwhelming rush of emotions and thoughts swirling inside me. I had just met my mate—the one. But even though she was right in front of me, so many barriers were already in place between us. I felt the weight of them.

I sighed heavily, running a hand through my hair. What the hell just happened? How was I supposed to move forward from here? My body was still buzzing with the energy of the mate bond, but my mind was spinning with doubt. There were so many things to figure out. And... well, the soldier in my pants wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Another set of questions popped into my head.

Where was she going? How was she getting home? i***t! I should’ve offered her a ride. That would’ve been the perfect excuse to spend more time with her, to find out where she lived, get closer to her.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I opened the door and rushed after her.

“Laila! How are you getting back to your place?”

I shouted, unable to contain the urgency in my voice. She jumped slightly, startled by my sudden call. I cursed inwardly. i***t, you just freaked her out. She turned, worry flickering in her eyes, and I hated myself a little more for it.

“No worries! My cab is almost here already,” she said, offering a tight smile and a nod towards the street.

“Oh, I see… Well, if you need a lift, don’t hesitate to ask me.”

I shrugged, my shoulders slumping in defeat. Another opportunity, missed. She was slipping away, and I couldn’t seem to grasp hold of her. She pressed her lips together, that polite little smile still fixed on her face.

“It’s okay. Thank you. I’m managing.”

She waved me off with a hand, and my heart sank.

“You should write my phone number down, and call me on Wednesday. I can bring you here,” I suggested, my persistence making my voice a little more pleading than I intended.

“It’s okay. Maybe another time.”

She held back a smile but furrowed her eyebrows, that familiar look of cautious politeness creeping in. And then, just like that, the cab pulled up next to her. She gave me another curt nod and slid into the car without another word. And just like that, she was gone.

My heart stayed behind with her, that hollow ache already taking root deep inside me. Was I already missing her? Sh.it, this wasn’t supposed to happen. This was too soon, but it was happening. I was doomed. How would I survive till Wednesday?

It seemed so easy for her to leave, like I was nothing more than an afterthought. Maybe she was running away from me? It didn’t help that she’d been so stiff and formal, polite but distant, most of the time.

I slowly turned and walked back inside, my mind replaying every moment we’d just shared. Never in my life had I chased after a woman, begged her to spend time with me, offered my number, only to be rejected at every turn. Rejected. That word burned, deep in my chest.

My wolf howled in pain at the thought. No. I wouldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t be rejected. Not when I’d waited my whole damn life for her.

No.

I refused to accept it. I had been waiting for too long, and I wasn’t going to let her slip away. I deserve this. I deserve to have a mate. I deserve to have a love that’s mine. She was already mine. She just didn’t know it yet.

Determination flooded my veins. I wasn’t giving up on her. Not now, not ever.

I took a deep breath, clearing my mind. This wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning. I had to plan—my strongest suit. Strategizing was what I did best. And now, I’d use that skill to make her mine.

She would be mine.