Chapter 9
I lie awake in bed, feeling unable to settle down. The pajamas Emma lent me are softer than anything I’ve ever worn, and this bed is far more comfortable than mine at home, but sleeping in a new place is
difficult.
Every small sound makes me jump. I keep shifting around, searching for a position that will let me relax, but nothing seems to help. My mind is racing with questions. Why did no one ever tell me I wasn’t a full wolf?
If that’s the reason I was forced out when I turned sixteen, it’s something I had a right to know. And who could possibly be after me? I usually keep to myself, so I can’t figure out what I might have done to make someone want me dead.
I remember hearing tales about hunters who target werewolves, believing they’re a blight on the world. As far as I knew, our pack never had to worry about that. My father always managed to keep our real nature hidden.
Our wolf pack is much smaller than most. A hundred years earlier, wolf packs were massive, or so the stories passed down tell us. Some even ruled over entire towns and cities.
But as the human population expanded and their technology advanced, they began to hunt werewolves and dismantle the packs. This drove us, and other supernatural beings, into secrecy.
Maybe a hunter has figured out who I truly am, which could explain why someone is trying to kill me. I can’t come up with any other explanation for being targeted. I exhale heavily and push myself upright.
Sleep isn’t helping at all. I climb out of bed and quietly approach the door. When I slowly turn the handle, I wince as it makes a small noise. I peek into the hallway, and, seeing no one, slip outside. My eyes shift between the staircase and the direction of Elijah’s room.
pause, uncertain which direction to take. I could head to the kitchen for a glass of water to try to settle my nerves. But I’m unfamiliar with the kitchen’s layout and don’t want to disturb anyone.
Waking Elijah isn’t something I want to do either; he’s probably already asleep, and I’d rather not depend on him. Still, he did say I could wake him if I needed to.
Without fully deciding, I find my feet leading me down the hallway toward Elijah’s room. I raise my hand to knock, but just as I’m about to, the door swings open, startling me into a small cry.
Elijah stands in the doorway, his eyes going wide. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I didn’t know you were standing there.”
My pulse is still racing. “How did
you know?”
“Are you alright?” Elijah’s expression shows concern.
“I can’t sleep,” I confess, nervously shifting my weight and looking away. “Why are you up?”
“I could feel you were uneasy.” Elijah rubs the back of his neck. “I was about to check on you, but you got here first.”
“You could sense I was restless?” The idea surprises me, especially since we’re not that close physically.
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He nods. “How much do you understand about the mate bond? I’m guessing it’s different for you, since you’re not entirely werewolf.”
“My grandmother used to tell me tales about the true mate bond,” I reply, glancing down the hallway, worried we might disturb the others. “Should we go somewhere quieter?”
“Would you like to come in?” Elijah offers, moving aside to make room.
I nod, feeling a bit anxious. Entering his room, I’m struck by how modest it is. For an alpha, I expect something grand, but it’s tidy and simple instead. A queen-sized bed is centered in the room, a desk sits in one corner, and in another, a chess set with two chairs.
“Feel free to get comfortable,” Elijah says, closing the door gently behind him.
I make my way straight to the chessboard set up in the corner. The set is crafted from glass and clearly well cared for. Lifting one of the pieces, I notice the pleasing heft it has in my hand. “This is incredible.”
“Are you a chess player?” Elijah comes over and stands beside me.
“I played in the past. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a chance.” Gently, I place the pawn back and ensure it’s lined up precisely.
“If you’d like, we can play and chat until you start feeling sleepy,” Elijah offers.
“That sounds wonderful,” I reply, taking a seat and feeling eager to start. “You can begin. I have to admit, I’m a bit out of practice.”
“In that case, I’ll take it easy on you,” Elijah chuckles. He rotates the board so that the white pieces are on his side. After making his opening move, he asks, “Why don’t you tell me more about what your grandmother used to say about mates?”
I respond with my own move. “She always told me that the moment you meet your mate, you just know. Their scent becomes the only one you crave, and touching them feels as if you’ve discovered a missing part of yourself. She also said not everyone is fortunate enough to find their mate, but those who do become stronger together. Occasionally, she said, a pair of werewolves would discover their true mate, and together they could achieve things beyond belief. Most, however, aren’t true mates.”
“I’ve come across stories of true mates before,” Elijah says, studying the chessboard intently before advancing a pawn. “I always assumed those were just legends.”
“I thought the same about mates in general,” I reply with a laugh. “The idea of falling in love at first s ight never made sense to me. How could you possibly love someone you’ve only just met?”
Elijah picks up a chess piece but pauses, uncertain. “Do you still believe that finding your mate is just a myth?”
< The Mysterious Werewol!
