Ambrosia POV
I knew without question that I should have as little to do with the man in my bed as possible- but I couldn’t help myself. I would never be able to stare at him so closely when he was awake.
He was handsome, with thick curling hair that ended at the nape of his neck, a strong chin, and a tall lithe body type with lean muscle. When I’d touched him, checking for a pulse in the woods, I had felt that parade of sparks again, and I wanted nothing more than to curl up under his arms and hold him until he woke.
I was a rational adult, though, so I wrung out the towel on his head and wetted it with warm water once more, then replaced it. As I tried to pull my hand back, his shot up and grabbed my wrist in that iron-tight grip again, his eyes shooting open. He sat up quickly, growling- until the smell hit him.
“Mate,” he said, looking absolutely flabbergasted.
I yanked my hand free and stood, pushing him down. “You shouldn’t get up so fast. You fainted in the woods.”
“No way,” he said, too quickly. “I’m an Alpha. Alphas don’t faint.”
“Well, you sure did, bud,” I replied, dryly. I reached to his bedside for a mug filled with cold tea that had been steeping far too long. I blew on it, and warmth surged back through the drink. I handed it to him, “Drink this. It’ll make you feel a little better.”
“What’s in it?” he asked, sniffing it suspiciously. His nose wrinkled like a child, “It smells bitter.”
I waved my hand, summoning the honey from the kitchen. When it settled into my hand, I passed it to him. “Here.”
“How did you…?” he asked looking in awe. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter- where am I? Who are you?”
I sighed. He was certainly slow, to say the least.
“The tea is an herb blend with a little amplifying magic to make you feel better. It should up your vitality a little bit and put some color back in your face- you look like a corpse.” I stood, putting some distance in between us.
I’d been in a chair at his bedside, but the longer he looked at me with those big doe eyes, I wanted to crawl into his lap. I hadn't realized how dangerous the mate bond could be.
“You’re in my house. My name is Ambrosia. Don’t bother remembering either- this will be the last time we meet,” I said. “Now drink your tea.”
“Wait, what?” he barked, putting the tea down and bolting upright again. He dangled his legs over the bed, “You can’t say that- you’re my mate.”
Mates.
How bothersome.
“I’ve been looking for you for years… have you been on this mountain the whole time?!” he asked, rising.
I pushed him down again, this time, using magic. The force should’ve been the equivalent of a stiff breeze, just hard enough to blow him off his feet and back onto the bed. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I didn’t want to risk those sparks messing with my head. “Pretty much, yeah.”
“That’s…” he looked like he was about to explode.
I couldn’t blame him- the mate bond was serious business for werewolves. Finding one’s mate was usually the most monumental event in their lives. If I shared that mindset and found out we’d been this close all along, I’d be furious.
“…Excellent!”
Okay, he lost me.
“To think you were so close the whole time is just…” he laughed hopelessly, squeezing far too much honey into the tea before taking a sip and wrinkling his nose. “Wow. I mean that’s great, because you won’t have to move too far away.”
“Yeah, I feel like you’re breezing past the we won’t be meeting again aspect of this conversation,” I reiterated. “Mates or no.”
He met my eye with a look that said he was calling my bluff. “Then reject me properly.”
I refused to flinch- but inside, I was all but screaming.
For the first ten years of my life I had lived in packs- that’s right, multiple. I knew a fair bit about werewolf lore, about the mate bond, the cheating pains, about the weird ritualistic nature of wolves, and territories, the link, the goddess, etc, etc, etc. It made sense, actually, for there to be a formal way to reject a mate, but…
What was it?
I held my tongue, refusing to allow myself to look foolish in front of him.
“See?” he chuckled, sitting up and sipping the tea that must be way too sweet, “You dragged me out of the woods, changed my clothes for me, put me in bed and cared for me, and you expect me to believe you don’t care about the mate bond?”
I never said I didn’t care, but I wasn’t about to correct him. “Would you have preferred I left you out there soaked, cold and sick?” I asked, plucking the mug back up and pushing it into his hands. “Drink. Then leave.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, following me out of the room like a puppy. He took another sip, at least. “Shouldn’t you at least get to know me before kicking me out?”
And make my decision that much harder? No thank you.
“No need,” I replied. “As far as I’m concerned, the less I know about you, the better.”
“I don’t agree,” he said, planting his feet in my kitchen as if his opinion mattered in this. “Don’t you…? I mean, you’re a werewolf. I can smell it on you.”
“At least your nose isn’t broken,” I muttered under my breath. “And I’m only half werewolf. Other half witch. General consensus seems to be that I am mostly witch. So, if the question you’re so eloquently trying to ask is don’t you feel the mate bond, I do. It’s just not very high on my priority list.”
“What is, then?” he asked, settling in at my kitchen table uninvited.
I started washing dishes, trying as hard as I could not to pay him any attention. “Getting you out of my house.”
He huffed, and though I would like to believe it was from frustration, it sounded insultingly close to a laugh. “I see.”
From the corner of my eyes, I could see his eyes roaming the kitchen, settling on the décor here and there. None of it was particularly special- there was the odd charm or chime, but most of it was pictures. Pictures of myself, hung by my master. She was even in a few of them. There were paintings- also hers. And some oddities- a taxidermy duck that someone had added a second head and a lizard tail to, standing atop a branch. One head was up and alert, the second low, as if ready to attack. His eyes settled on that for longer than I expected.
“You live here alone?” he asked, finally.
“Yes,” I replied. I realized that, if my goal was to be off putting, perhaps I shouldn’t be so forthcoming with information.
I just didn’t deal with people this much. And though I knew I shouldn’t, I felt at peace with him here. The company was much like Sylvia’s- calming, even if he was a total stranger.
“Who is the woman in these photos?” he asked, going to the wall and peering closer.
“None of your business,” I groaned, peeking at his mug. He’d drank half of it. Good. “If you’re really an Alpha, shouldn’t you be getting back to your pack or something? It’s late.”
He shrugged, “My work can be done for the day. I’ll link my beta and let him know where I am-”
“No,” I barked, slamming my hands down on the table.
He looked at me surprised, and I couldn’t blame him. I was almost just as surprised by my own outburst.
“If they know I’m here, I’ll never get another day’s peace,” I explained. “Can’t you just tell him you’re taking a walk or something?”
He looked puzzled. “I mean, I suppose I could. But why does it matter?” He paused, “And how is it we didn’t already know you were up here?”
“The former Alpha did,” I replied, making my own cup and sitting across from him. He scooted his chair closer, and I reclaimed the distance, glaring at him. “He had the good sense to stay away.”
“My father never mentioned you,” he said, leaning on his fist. “I wonder why that might be.”
“Again, he had sense,” I replied, sighing. “What happened to him anyway? Finally retired?”
“He died,” Elijah said, eyes clouding over with sorrow. “Just three months ago.”
Any snarky response I was brewing died on my tongue. I sipped my drink and looked away. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Yeah,” he said, dryly. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, draining the last of his cup. He inhaled sharply to speak, but I cut him off.
“If you’re done, I’ll walk you out.” I took his mug and sat it in the sink. I was surprised at how submissively he followed me to the door, but when I tried to open it for him, he shut it tight again, pinning me against it.
I could feel the warmth of his chest against my back. His exhale moved the hair on the nape of my neck, and gods, that smell captivated me. I could feel myself grow damp, and prayed he couldn’t smell it.
His lips met my neck, nuzzling softly. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he said. “You could never see me again, you know.”
The teasing sound of his voice was irritating, but the way his hands felt on my hips was distracting enough for me to let it go. “I know,” I said. I was trying to sound confident, but it came out breathless.
He turned me in his arms and captured my lips with his. The kiss was phenomenal- sweet like honey, and warm in a way that ran down my throat and straight to my core. His hands brushed my sides, and I moaned into the kiss, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer despite myself.
He broke the kiss and I stared at him through foggy eyes. Gods, I’d never wanted anything so much in my entire life.
It was dangerous.
“You don’t act like-”
“Sylvia,” I said, turning my head sharply to the side. She leapt out of the shadow of a box and grew exponentially. As she grew, the lights flickered and turned off in her presence as she swallowed the light.
“What the fu-”
Elijah wasn’t able to finish that sentence. Sylvia nipped the back of his collar and picked him up. He was not a small man- he was tall, and though his muscle was lean, it should have made him rather difficult to budge, but Sylvia’s supernatural strength was unlike even my own. I opened the door for her and she prowled outside, depositing him firmly just beyond the property line.
I reached for a bag I had left near the door for that express purpose and threw it out towards him, missing him by a foot. “Have your clothes back. Follow the path down the mountain to get back to your pack.” Before he could make it back to his feet, I slammed and bolted the door, pushing against it with my back.
I expected him to put up more of a fight- pound on my door, maybe even try to force it open- but I was met with silence.
Sylvia melted back inside, sliding easily under the door. In her smaller cat form, she looked at me curiously, grooming her paws.
I touched my lips, which still felt the tingling sensation that accompanied my mate’s touch and dropped to the floor, sitting in stunned silence for gods-knew how long.
I could never see him again.
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