The Alphas Fated Mate

I Was Enchanted to Meet You

He follows the scent for what feels like a never-ending journey, around 40 miles of ceaseless running between the dense tree line and endless cornfields. It's a lonely existence, but he's lucky to have evaded the wandering eyes of those who occasionally dash between the two. Normally, he hides deep in the woods during the day. It's safer that way, easier than risking the fear that his wolf's size tends to instill in people. In his four-legged form, he tips the scales at a massive 250 pounds, and his head stands above most people's waist.

Approaching a small town, the tantalizing aroma of restaurants and the bustle of human life wafts toward him. Yet, he's not there for any of that. His nose, more reliable than any GPS, steers him away from these temptations and directs him toward the woods. Ten minutes later, he finds where the scent is strongest—a small cedar cabin, nestled deep in the trees. The porch, adorned with an old wooden swing, creaks gently in the breeze. Inside, green and white polka-dotted curtains sway in the window. Beside the front door, a welcome sign bears the family name "Williams." On the opposite edge of the yard, the sweet scent of a strawberry patch lingers, even though it's late in the season. It's a modest home, but there's undeniable charm, a sense that the owner takes immense pride in this place.

No vehicles occupy the driveway, and there's no sign of life within the house. He hasn't picked up any sounds or scents from inside, which emboldens him to take a closer look.

Trotting up onto the front porch, he glances through the large picture window. A spacious living room unfolds before him, merging seamlessly with a generous kitchen. The living room is elegantly appointed in rich brown hues, its beautiful hardwood floors accentuated by green accents found in pillows, rugs, and those delightful polka-dot curtains. Two well-worn brown leather recliners and a small side table occupy one wall. Across from them stands a flat-screen TV flanked by bookshelves bursting with volumes and DVDs. A couch, echoing the recliners, faces the window.

As his wolf eyes scan this inviting space, he can't help but wonder how this person could live so freely, leaving their front door unlocked. It's a risky move, one that could easily go wrong. But it's his lucky day.

Leaping off the porch, he makes his way around to the back. Using a trick his father taught him as a child, he deftly opens the door handle with his mouth. Inside, a wave of nostalgia hits him. The scent inside is overpowering, a punch in the gut, filling and surrounding him. He's momentarily overwhelmed, almost tempted to curl up right there on the kitchen floor and never leave. But he shakes his head, attempting to clear his senses. His journey isn't over; he has a mission to accomplish. He must find Aria.

Crossing into the living room, he studies the bookshelf—a curated mix of biographies, psychology, fantasy, mysteries, and classics, each tome redolent with the scent of their owner. In contrast, the DVD shelves remain almost untouched, bearing a faint scent marker. Next to the bookshelf, a hallway, walls adorned with photographs, tells a life story. The journey of a girl growing from a child into a woman unfolds, from her first day of school to the awkward teen years, and finally, into a beautiful young woman.

The final photograph appears to be the most recent, indicating that she's in her early twenties. She sits between two men, one clearly her father, the same man whose sadness-filled eyes have haunted every earlier photograph. The other, possibly an uncle, doesn't share a familial resemblance.

Curiously, there are no photographs of her and her mother. Her room beckons him to discover more—pale blue walls, a simple bed adorned with a quote: "In dreams and in love, there are no impossibilities." The bed remains unmade, the sheets and comforter entwined, while a copy of 'The Notebook' and a pile of used tissues sit on her nightstand, a testament to recent tears.

As he takes in the salty scent of her tears, an unfamiliar sensation washes over him—a profound concern for her happiness. It's an unusual reaction, unlike any he's experienced in his 25 years. But this woman, Aria, has touched something deep within him, and he can't help but feel drawn to her.

With an effort to pull himself away from her room, he moves on to the next open door, revealing a tiny bathroom with nothing much to offer. The last door in the hall remains closed, and he employs his trusty trick once more. The room is musty from neglect, but the bed is neatly made, adorned with pictures on the dresser. One of them is a senior portrait with the name 'Aria' inscribed in the bottom corner. The name dances in his mind, and he can't wait to shift back to his human form and feel it roll off his tongue.

With a heavy heart, he contemplates the absence of her mother in these photographs. And then, he reaches a conclusion—this must be her father's room, and he wonders where he is now. One photograph stands out—a senior picture of Aria, her name elegantly printed in the corner, 'Aria Williams.' The name holds a special resonance with him, and he longs to say it out loud.

Exiting the room, he closes the door behind him using his mouth to leave no sign that someone's been here. One last deep breath to envelop himself in Aria's scent, and it's time to find her. He has an overwhelming urge to make sure she's alright, to protect her, and to offer her comfort.

He picks up her scent once more in the driveway and starts following it back towards the town. Just inside the city limits, he comes across a small brick building, the irresistible scent of tomato and pepperoni confirming it as a pizza place. The parking lot is bustling, which forces him to stay hidden in the shadows of the tree line, wary of being seen.

His thoughts wander as he contemplates the bizarre notion of strolling into the restaurant, fully naked, to sweep Aria off her feet. A chuckle escapes him as he considers the odd influence his sister's choice in movies has had on his thinking—too many "chick flicks" have blurred his sense of what's appropriate. Action and horror, he thinks, from now on.

However, a new sensation interrupts his musings—an ethereal, gentle whisper strokes his mind. It takes him a moment to recognize that he's hearing Aria's thoughts. He closes his eyes, relishing the unique experience of her thoughts inside his head.

"You will not cry! You will NOT cry! Geez, can't they see they're only making this harder?" He hears her inner turmoil as she contemplates taking a break for fresh air and fewer people.

Her overwhelming sadness seeps into his very being, making his wolf restless, yearning to run to her and provide solace. The urge is powerful, but he manages to hold back. For now.

A middle-aged man named Brian emerges from the restaurant and approaches Aria, offering his support. The exchange eases his wolf's tension

. It's clear that he means no harm, and his wolf begins to accept his presence. Aria's vulnerability moves him deeply, and he can't help but watch her with a mix of concern and longing.

Brian suggests helping Aria clear out her father's belongings, a gesture that sparks gratitude within him. He's family to her, and by extension, to him. His previous growls and reservations toward him dissipate as he's filled with a newfound sense of camaraderie.

As Brian helps her to her feet, their interaction is genuinely kind. He offers comfort, and he can sense the unspoken bond between them. His wolf, despite its earlier unease, now respects and appreciates Brian for being there for Aria.

A plan forms in his mind—he must find a way to repay this man for his help, for offering Aria the support she needs when he couldn't. He may not be human, but Aria's happiness has become a priority he can't ignore.

Brian departs, and Aria is left leaning against the restaurant, her gaze fixed on the trees. He longs to be closer to her, but he remains concealed. Aria's eyes lock onto something, and a trace of fear creeps into her expression as she moves closer to the trees.

Someone calls her name from the restaurant, and she startles, pulling away from the unknown sight within the woods. Her curiosity battles her fear, but fear wins, and she quickly retreats indoors, seeking refuge from the shadows.

He remains hidden, his eyes locked on the pizza place as daylight fades into night. The parking lot empties, and eventually, Aria emerges, accompanied by her coworkers. They invite her to join them at the local bar, but she declines with a wave and a slight smile, opting to head home.

He could effortlessly track her scent to follow her, but now he can do something even more extraordinary—he can hear her thoughts. Her mind is fixated on returning home, and he senses a strong connection to her every thought and emotion.

He's been lying near the strawberry patch, listening to her every word and thought, when the tears begin. It's at that moment that his wolf's protective instinct surges, overpowering his control. He starts to run from his hiding spot, but his elation is short-lived. His front paw is ensnared by cold, unforgiving metal, and he howls in pain.

Now, Aria knows he's close, and he can't shift to escape the trap. His predicament is dire, and he's left with the realization that his impulsive attempt to protect Aria may have backfired terribly.