Chapter 3

Magnus watched the scene unfold, a mix of amusement and concern washing over him. He knew what was happening - Cathy's subconscious was recognizing him as her mate, driving her to assert herself and care for him. It was both thrilling and heartbreaking. Mostly heartbreaking.

"Cathy," he said softly, reaching out to touch her arm. "It's alright. Let them help."

She turned to him; confusion evident in her eyes. "I don't... I don't know why I got so angry. I'm sorry, I just felt like I needed to..." She trailed off, looking lost.

"I know," Magnus replied, his voice gentle. "You're probably feeling very confused right now. It's okay." Though it wasn't really okay. Nothing about this was okay.

Magnus stiffened as Cathy began piling food onto a fresh plate. Her slender fingers wrapped around the crystal decanter, pouring him a generous glass of amber liquid. As she leaned close to drape a napkin across his lap, her scent enveloped him - a heady mixture of vanilla, jasmine, and the unmistakable musk of arousal.

His cock twitched traitorously, and he inhaled deeply, savoring her intoxicating aroma. "Lilacs," he murmured, almost to himself. "You smell like lilacs after a summer rain."

Demetrius howled within him, clawing for control. 'Take her,' the beast demanded. 'Claim what's ours.'

Magnus growled low in his throat, fighting against his primal urges. "No," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Cathy paused, cutlery hovering above his plate. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

He forced a tight smile. "Nothing important. Thank you for your assistance." Polite. He could be polite.

As she turned to sit, Magnus noticed the shift in the room. Pack members shrank back in their seats, eyes averted. But Cathy... Cathy was different. A soft moan escaped her lips as she lowered herself, thighs pressing together. The scent of her desire hit him like a tsunami.

Cathy nodded, a light sheen of sweat on her brow. "Yes. Just... warm in here, isn't it?"

Magnus gripped the arms of his chair, wood creaking beneath his fingers. "Indeed," he managed, fighting the urge to throw her onto the table and satisfy both their cravings. Which would be completely inappropriate. And probably illegal.

Magnus yanked at his tie, loosening the constricting fabric as he reached for his fork. The metal bent under his grip, and he cursed under his breath. Another utensil destroyed. Perfect.

"So, as I was saying about the new security protocols," Cathy prattled on, her voice breathy and higher than usual. "I think we should consider—"

He tried to focus on her words, but his attention kept drifting to the beads of sweat forming at her temples, the rapid pulse visible at her throat. She paused, reaching for her water glass with trembling fingers.

Cathy gulped down half the glass. "Just thirsty," she said with a weak smile. "Must be all this talking." Talking. Right. That's what was making her thirsty.

'She's parched for you,' Demetrius taunted. 'Mark her. Claim her. Make her ours.'

He nodded, acutely aware of how she crossed and uncrossed her legs beneath the table, seeking friction. The only thing that would truly satisfy either of them was for him to sink his teeth into her flesh, to bond them for eternity. But he couldn't. She was human, vulnerable. He had to protect her, even from himself. Especially from himself.

'Coward,' Demetrius snarled. 'You deny us both.'

The tattoo on Magnus's chest, a representation of his wolf, seemed to burn and writhe beneath his skin. He pressed a hand to it, willing Demetrius to be silent.

'You think ignoring me will make this go away?' the wolf continued. 'She's, our mate. Our everything. And you're too afraid to claim what's rightfully ours.'

"Shut up," Magnus growled, forgetting himself for a moment.

The dining table rippled with fear and silence descended at once. Everyone froze. Completely froze.

Cathy blinked at him, startled. "I... I'm sorry." She looked hurt. Why did she look hurt?

He shook his head, forcing a reassuring smile. If he kept this up, he was going to run her off. "No, continue."

He wanted to say please continue and to apologize for interrupting her, but he realized he was in a room full of werewolves who had never heard him apologize to anyone for anything. If he started now, everyone would know what she was to him and he knew that not everyone liked him being in power, he was sure if some of these creatures knew he now had a weakness, that they'd conspire to take him down. Politics. Always politics.

As Cathy resumed speaking, Magnus closed his eyes briefly, silently warring with the relentless voice in his head. How long could he resist the pull of his mate? And more importantly, should he even try? The questions had no good answers.

Magnus opened his eyes, desperately seeking a distraction from the intoxicating scent of Cathy's arousal. His gaze swept across the room, taking in the tense postures and averted eyes of his pack members. A bitter chuckle rose in his throat as he realized their misinterpretation of the situation.

"Is something amusing, Alpha?" Gamma Samuel asked cautiously from further down the table.

Magnus shook his head slightly. "Just an observation," he replied, his voice low and controlled. "It seems our guests are... uneasy." Uneasy was putting it mildly.

Cathy glanced around, her brow furrowing. "Why? Did I do something wrong by sitting here?"

"They think I want to kill you," Magnus said dryly, meeting her wide-eyed stare. Her heart skipped a beat and her fear of him was like a punch in the gut for him. Brutal. Absolutely brutal.

She let out a nervous laugh. "Do you?"

'If only she knew,' Demetrius purred in his mind. 'We don't want to kill her. We want to fuck her until she can't walk straight.'

Magnus gritted his teeth. 'I said no.'

A young wolf at the far end of the table whispered to his neighbor, "I've never seen the Alpha so tense around a human before. She must really be pissing him off."

"Idiots," Magnus muttered under his breath.

Cathy leaned in, her warm breath tickling his ear. "What did you say?"

The proximity sent a jolt through his body, his cock twitching eagerly. He shifted in his chair, trying to alleviate the pressure. "Nothing of consequence," he said, his voice rougher than intended.

She jumped away from him. And he sighed. Why didn't she get it? He was angry with himself for wanting her so irrationally that coherent thought seized, angry with the Gods for pairing him with someone he could never have and angry with her for being so perfect. So completely, utterly perfect.

'Tell her the truth,' Demetrius urged. 'Tell her how we ache for her.'

"You know," Magnus said, speaking to both Cathy and his wolf, "appearances can be deceiving."