Chapter 14: Fated mates

(Jaime)

I find Logan waiting for me when I tentatively leave the room about an hour later. I had soaked in a scorching hot bath for most of that time, trying to scrub away the memory of their filthy hands on my body. My skin feels raw now.

And I had cried. Lots. It’s not my proudest moment but I was thankful that I was alone in my weakness. And I was angry. Some of those tears were pure frustration and anger. And when I finally stopped crying and venting and scrubbing my skin into oblivion, I turned my thoughts to the mind-blowing discovery of seeing Logan transform into a giant wolf right in front of my eyes. And the implications it holds for me.

And now here he is, looking very human, albeit a giant of a human with muscles and a grace that surely must be supernatural.

“Hey,” he says as I appear in the doorway, his eyes holding kindness and understanding. “Want a hug?”

He spreads his arms and I walk straight into them, my body moving out of its own volition, and I don’t even question it. Safe. He makes me feel safe. And that’s what I want now. How did he know that it’s exactly what I need right now? I’m not a hugger.

His warmth envelops me like a fluffy blanket, and I inhale his unique, manly scent. It calms me and I shudder in his embrace. Then I take a small step back and smile up at him.

“Thanks. I needed that.”

He nods. “I know. I could feel your emotions.”

It’s an odd comment but given that I feel all kind of odd emotions around him, I decide not to dwell on it too much. He motions for me to walk with him, and we go back down the stairs.

“I’ll give you the grand tour tomorrow, but for now we need to eat and talk. Maggie left us this lamb hotpot. There’s a salad in the fridge if you don’t mind grabbing that for us?”

He opens the oven and removes a steaming clay pot from it. I aim for the fridge and find the salad he mentioned. It’s almost absurdly domesticated.

We take both dishes to the open-plan room just off from the kitchen where a dinner table had been set. Logan holds a chair for me, and I take a seat. Then he opens a bottle of wine and pours a glass for each of us.

We’re both seated with a steaming bowl of deliciousness in front of us; Logan across from me, his eyes serious and filled with something I can’t quite place. I feel a mix of anticipation and fear knotting my stomach. He seems to struggle to find the right words.

“So, werewolves, huh?” I ask, trying to help him out and give him a lead-in.

He takes a sip of his wine, his gaze still locked to mine, and nods slowly. “Yes, and with that a whole world of things you need to know about. Like the mate bond.”

I try to keep my breathing steady. “Okay, I’m listening.”

He takes a deep breath, his gaze never leaving mine. I feel the intensity of his emotions, like a current passing between us. Is that what he felt when I was in that bath being overly emotional?

“You’ve already experienced part of it. The night I found you, you were on the brink of death. Werewolves have a unique connection to life and nature, something that goes beyond just being able to shift into wolves.”

A shiver runs down my spine as I remember that night. The pain, the darkness. And even though I can’t remember him, I do recall an echo of something, of... warmth.

“Doctor Fairfield said that I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you… that the procedures they tried to save me wasn’t really successful, but that you saved me.”

He seems to think how to phrase his next words. “That’s because I marked you. In our world, werewolves have what we call fated mates. It’s a bond that’s deeper than anything humans can comprehend. When we find our fated mate, it’s like finding the other half of our soul. It’s rare and sacred.”

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Fated mates. The words resonated within me, stirring something primal and ancient. “Fated mates? Like soulmates?”

“Yes, but it’s more than just a romantic connection. It’s a spiritual and physical bond. When I marked you, it was to save your life by drawing out your wolf. Your wolf is part of you, part of your essence, and it’s what makes you whole and allows you to heal. The mark connected us, bonded us on a fundamental level.”

The memory of that moment was nonexistent, but then I think back of every time he touched me, especially on this magical mark on my wrist. I look at it now and remember his touch as this surge of energy, a strange sense of completeness. “So, that’s why I feel this… pull towards you?”

“Exactly. The bond creates a connection where we can sense each other’s emotions, feel each other’s presence. It’s powerful and can’t be easily broken. But Jaime, I didn’t mark you just to save you. I did it because, from the moment I found you, I knew you were my mate. I felt the moment I touched you, smelt your scent. I felt it deep inside.”

He motions to where his heart is, and his eyes nearly glowed with an intensity of emotion. His words sent a shockwave through me. The idea of being so intimately connected to someone was both terrifying and exhilarating. “This is all so much to take in. What does this mean for us now?”

“It means that our lives are intertwined. We share a destiny. But it’s not something you’re forced into. While it’s a pretty instantaneous thing for us wolves, the bond strengthens with mutual trust and love. I’ll be here for you, help you learn about your wolf, and support you as you heal. You’re not alone in this, Jaime. We’re in this together.”

I felt a lump in my throat. The thought of having someone by my side, someone who understood me in ways no one else ever could, was overwhelming. “I’m scared, Logan. But I trust you. I want to understand this bond and what it means for me, for us.”

“We’ll take it one step at a time. You’re strong, Jaime. Stronger than you know. Together, we’ll navigate this new reality. You’ll never have to face anything alone again.”

His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket, soothing the fear and uncertainty. I took a deep breath, feeling a sense of hope for the first time since the attack. “Thank you, Logan. For everything.”

He reached out, his hand gently covering mine. The contact sent a comforting warmth through me. That feeling of being safe surrounds me again and I sigh.

“So, if I’m a werewolf too, why did I only find that out now? Wouldn’t there have been signs?” This was the one question that bothered me more than any others. How come I didn’t know? Or maybe they’re all wrong, but then I want to know why they seem so convinced.

“That’s a great question. I think it’s puzzling Doctor Fairfield enough too that he’s making a study out of it. He told me that he thinks your wolf had been dormant because it had no connection to a pack or any other wolf. But there could be more to it.”

“So do I have a wolf now?”

He smiles and runs his thumb over the mark on my wrist again. The tingles spread.

“Yes… yes you do. Mates’ wolves connect to each other the same way we do in our human form. My wolf can feel yours, but she’s shy, or maybe too weak still to come out completely. As our bond strengthens, and especially when you mark me, that will change.”

That caught me by surprise. “When I mark you? You mean I have to give you a mark like this too?”

He nods and smiles. “Ideally, yes. But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Usually, mates mark each other in a beautiful ceremony, much like a human marriage but a very private affair just between them. It’s a lifetime’s commitment to each other. By marking you I have claimed you as mine, someone I commit my life to. But you don’t have to mark me as yours if you don’t feel that way about me.”

He said that last sentence almost unwillingly, like he didn’t want me to know that bit. But my heart reaches out to him, and I take his other hand in mine too.

“Wow. It’s… it’s a pretty big thing, this marking, isn’t it?”

He nods. “Yes. I’m sorry I couldn’t do it properly, with a ceremony and with your full consent. I’ll understand if you are angry about that and if you don’t want me.”

I feel a tear run down my cheek and I swat it away, half surprised by it. And that’s when I realize that I’m feeling his emotions. He’s sad, and anxious and… hopeful. But what about me? Where does his feelings stop and mine begin?

Should I be mad, as he thinks I should be? It sounds like a massive step to take with a stranger, albeit a stranger who had saved my life, and with whom I feel safe. But now I’m bound to him in a way I have never been bound to anyone else. Claimed was the word he used. I should feel offended by that but somehow, I don’t.

My mind spins out of control and, as I wrestle with all the confusing thoughts, I feel his hands on my cheeks.

“Look at me. Jaime, look at me, please.”

He focuses my attention back onto him and I stare into those moss green eyes that seems to flicker with gold flecks right now. He makes a soothing noise and I calm down, my panic slowly receding. “There’s no pressure, Jaime. I want you to mark me, yes. But I want you to do it because you want to, not because I want you to. And you shouldn’t do it until you are ready to.”

I swallow and nod, and his warm hands leave my cheeks as we both sit back in our chairs. I look at him, still feeling some of his sadness linger.

He clears his throat. “We’ll take it one day at a time, Jaime. I’ll teach you what you need to know about being a werewolf, but you set the pace. Remember, you never have to face anything alone again.”