The Luna's Gift

Pheromones

    Helena stands in disbelief, her senses betraying her rational mind. Before she can even catch her breath after the out of body experience, Artemis wraps her arms around her, and takes a step forward, causing Helena to take a step back until her waist is pressed up against the kitchen island, their eye contact never breaking. 

“Mine.” Artemis repeats, this time softer, and gentler. She brings her left hand up to cup Helena’s face, keeping her right arm wrapped around the small of Helena’s back. Helena can’t breathe, this close to Artemis--who’s scent of cedar and sage is intoxicating--she feels dizzy and giddy at the same time. Artemis playfully rubs her thumb over Helena’s bottom lip, while biting her own out of restraint. 

“I’m going to kiss you.” Artemis speaks quietly, but firmly--she isn't asking, she was telling. 

“Ok.” Helena whispers back, barely audible, as a shiver runs down her spine in anticipation. Artemis moves her hand into Helena’s hair, pulling back slightly to tilt her face upwards. Artemis brings her lips to Helena’s, a spark of energy shooting straight into her core as their lips touch. The combination of Artemis’ soft lips and hard kiss has Helena trembling, weak in the knees. Their lips move against one another, and Artemis nudges Helena’s mouth open, nibbling on her bottom lip. Then hand in Helena’s hair grips tighter, pulling her head back ever further, as Artemis brings their lips together for a deeper, and harder kiss. 

Helena instinctively brings her arms up, her left hand finding its home on the back of Artemis’ head, her fingers gliding through the short black hair. Her right hand rests on Artemis’ chest over her heart feeling the already rapid pulse quicken under Helena’s touch. Artemis moans into the kiss, grabbing Helena’s waist once again and spinning her around to face the counter. Her hand comes back up once again to Helena’s hair, taking it by the fistful, pulling her head back and exposing her neck. Helena’s hands rest on the cool surface of the kitchen island as she tries to catch her breath, her lips red and swollen from the kissing. 

Artemis rips open Helena’s white t-shirt at the neck, exposing the top of her back, and pulls the material away to leave the nape of her right side bare. She flicks a tongue over the curve of Helena’s neck, and nibbles the spot with her canines, gently first. At the feel of the nibble on her neck, Helena’s awareness comes slamming back, and she whips around, hands outstretched in front of her, forcing Artemis to take a step back. A confused and pained look crosses Artemis’ face, “are you ok?” she asks Helena.

“N-no. No. No I’m not ok! You were going to Mark me!” Helena said as she pulls the scraps of her white t-shirt together, now regretting forgoing the bra. 

“Of course I was going to Mark you. You’re my mate.” Artemis replies matter-of-fact, an eyebrow quirking up.

Helena shakes her head in disbelief, and moves to the other side of the island, putting space between them, “Mates don’t exist. They’re just fairy tales.”

“Like werewolves? Like vampires? Like actual fairies and trolls and goblins and all the other creatures we live among? Fairy tales like those?” Artemis expresses passionately, “We live in a fairy tale, we are a fairy tale.” 

“How many Mates have there been in the last decade? Hell, in the last millennium? A handful, maybe? And there’s no proof any of them were Fated. So I accept your point that Fated Mates can exist, but I don’t believe they do exist.” Helena stands firm, staring hard at Artemis. Fated Mates were something magic brought to the lives of the Children of Luna, believed to be a gift from the goddess. With no magic, there were no more Fated Mates. Without magic, people dated and married like humans, and a traditional Marking was nothing more than that, a tradition kept alive through the centuries to signify a wolf's chosen mate. 

Artemis lip turns up in a cocky half smile and gives an arrogant half laugh, “Did you stop to think that maybe Fate doesn’t give a f**k if you believe it exists or not, that it just...is? If not fate, then how do you explain this Ms. Daae Historian?”

Helena pauses, feeling thrown off by that ridiculous smile, arrogant as hell yet so charming. Artemis is taller than her by a few inches, and looking like she's just arrived home, not yet taking off her leather jacket before running into Helena. Underneath she wears a simple white t-shirt half tucked into her tight blue jeans, and a pair of black combat boots to complete the look. Taking a moment to look over Artemis has Helena feeling both insecure about her pajama outfit and incredibly attracted to the person standing a mere five feet away. Artemis reaches up and runs her hand through her dark hair, longer on top, and shaved around the sides and back, while staring at Helena expectantly. 

“Um, well,” Helena stammers, shoving down the dream memory of what potential the kitchen island holds,”well, I haven’t eaten much today, it was probably low blood sugar. An intense...attraction. Pheromones?” She offers weakly, hoping this appeases Artemis.

Artemis lets out a genuine laugh, “you are totally serious aren’t you? The most amazing thing to ever happen to either of us, and potentially the first time in a millennium and you think it was low blood sugar? Oh, Ms. Flynn, what am I to do with you?”

Helena narrows her eyebrows and growls, “you’re making fun of me because I won’t believe in some delusion that hasn’t happened in well over a thousand years? I don’t even know who you are!”

“Don’t you?” Artemis asks, taking a step closer to Helena. In response Helena takes another step back, reaching the oven, unable to move back any further. Artemis comes around and stands in front of Helena, a foot away, their eyes locked.

“I’m Artemis Velos, Alpha of New Moon, and I’m your f*****g Fated Mate.”

                                                                                              ****

    Before she can even think, Helena’s ‘fight-or-flight’ instinct takes over, and she dashes out of the kitchen and through the back door towards the cottage. It’s late afternoon, the grass hot on her bare feet as she sprints across the backyard putting as much distance between her and Artemis as she can muster right now. She shuts the cottage door with a thud, noticing there’s no lock, and presses her back against the door, listening for any sign that Artemis followed her. Helena takes several deep breaths, and leans her head back against the door, closing her eyes, replaying what just happened over and over in her mind, “This doesn’t make any sense. Why me? Why now? Why??”

Hearing no one outside, she moves to the bedroom searching for her phone, and sending a frantic text to Mags, “Call me ASAP!!!”