He Is A Werewolf

The alphas destined mate 

The sight of his beloved sent his heart rate beating faster. His eyes took in her lovely figure in the blue gown she wore.

Freya was clearly pleasantly surprised to see he was awake. Whatever worry that showed in her gaze was replaced by happiness.

She moved to drop the tray she carried to the bedside table, reaching for him.

‘Oh Leo!’ She cried out, tugging his body to her bosom.

Leofric let her hug him, and he shut his eyes as his wolf calmed, and his growl turned to low purrs he couldn’t control. He felt her heart beating faster through her skin, and her warmth so inviting.

She seemed not to notice, only squeezing him tighter, whispering ‘Thank the Almighty’ numerous times, like a mantra.

Leofric could not take it any longer. He pushed her away and jumped out of bed to her horror, quickly putting distance between them.

Freya was still seated and her mouth was slightly open in a confused expression. Regret filled his being as he realized what he had done.

She looked hurt, and not understanding.

‘Leo...’

‘You must stay away, Freya.’ He interrupted her, hand put as if to keep her at bay. She stood, brows furrowed and biting her lips in that way he always liked. His wolf rebelled within him, clearly wanting to go to her.

He took a step back, closer to the window.

‘Stay back, Freya.’

‘What has come over you, Leo? I do not understand’ she shook her head, ‘I saw you outside this morning, unconscious in my doorstep. What happened to you? I thought you were dead or gravely ill!’

What? Leofric’s mind stuttered to a halt. Had his wolf come to see her? To attack her? He took another step back, feeling a fury at his lack of control. With some measure of calmness, he mustered up a faint smile at her, eyes filled with sorrow. ‘Something has happened to me, my love. I cannot be near you. Please listen to me,’ he slowly intoned, voice low but nary a whisper.

Freya took a step forward, reaching for him and he shook his head, stepping back again.

His back hit the wall and he found himself cornered.

Freya advanced on him carefully and wonderingly, as if approaching a wounded animal.

He felt powerless to stop her, her form nearer and scent so inviting. His wolf growled in approval. Mate, the word slipped unbidden from his lips in a whisper which she could not hear.

‘Freya,’ he whispered as she reached for him, taking his right hand in her small ones. He was lost.

Freya looked into his eyes, watching him. She looked confused, but understanding. So understanding, his beloved...

‘I do not understand what you are saying, my love. You ask me to stay away from you. Why?’ He swore he could see hints of tears in her eyes, glossier grey orbs catching his eyes. He began to hate himself for causing them, for pushing her away the way he had done.

Freya took in a calming breath, squeezing his hand tighter to her. ‘Will you sit with me and explain what has happened to you, Leo?’ She asked of him, pleading, and he nodded. He couldn’t help but nod, for he felt like a slave to her will. Bound to his promise of making her happy.

So she led him back to the bed, where they sat side by side.

A breath passed, then another. Soon minutes had gone by without Leofric saying a word. Freya gazed at him, waiting for him to speak up.

He spoke soon enough. His low baritone started out uncertain, then stronger as time passed. He told her of the rumours he had heard about attacks up north. He told her of stepping out into the night, leaving the safety of his father’s castle to the forest.

He told her of his attack, and he described what he could remember, taking care to gloss over the gory details so as not to hurt her sensibilities. He explained how he woke up later, healed of his wound and his attraction to the full moon.

He explained how he felt like his mind was not his own anymore.

Freya listened, and as he went on, she gasped severally - in disbelief or compassion, Leofric has no idea.

But he was certain, that what he told her was true. He told her of the myths he had heard, told as scary stories in the dark, of shifters, monsters in human form who revealed themselves under the light of the full moon.

Leofric ended his tale, tense and bitter. The silence felt between them was palpable, and he dared not look at Freya, for he expected to see disgust in her eyes, or fear. He expected her to scream at him, call him a monster and reject him. His wolf would not like that, he felt. Yet was there any hope for them still? He did not think so.

Leofric waited a beat, then two, then five. He let Freya take her time to process the words she had heard, preparing himself for a goodbye. Soon, he heard her shift beside him.

Then, a weary sigh escaped her lips, long and agonizing to hear. She spoke, voice soft and gentle, ‘Leo...’ He turned to meet her gaze.