Chapter 3 - The Stranger In My Bed

Samantha's Pov

“What the hell happened here?” I ask as I quickly crouch right at the front of the unconscious man.

‘We have to help him!’ Tania practically shrieks in my head. ‘We can’t lose him, Sammie. He’s our mate!’

“I know that, Tania. Let me see how deep his injury is first,” I reply, shutting her off entirely because I know if I don’t do that she won’t stop pestering me like a granny at Thanksgiving.

The injury on the man’s neck is deep, but not enough to kill him. If this guy were human, he’d be a goner. Judging by the dried blood, he’s been like this for a while. And the wound? Definitely not from a knife. No, this has claw marks written all over it. Meaning there’s another werewolf in town. Or several, judging by how wrecked he looks. Great. Just great. I met one werewolf with an ominous aura not long ago, and now I meet another that’s my mate who could also be dangerous for all I know. And now I’m living with the discovery that there could be more of us in Hunter Bridge?

I’m tempted to leave him and go my way, dragging an unconscious, unknown, werewolf giant home is not on my to-do list. But then I remember three things: One, I’m a doctor and I’m obliged to always save those in need. Two, Tania would whine for eternity. And three, he’s my mate. Because apparently my luck is that terrible. Besides, I can’t call an ambulance because they would know he isn’t human.

Left with no choice, I hoist the unconscious man up, anchoring my werewolf strength to keep the both of us from falling face front into the pavement. The man is huge, three heads taller than me, and he’s bulky. I practically look ridiculous trying to carry him. With one arm around his waist, I half-carry, half-drag him towards the direction of my house, leaving my broken car behind. I might probably regret what I’m doing right now, but I try not to think too much about it.

I take the man to my apartment and straight to my bedroom before laying him on my bed, because clearly, he deserves luxury accommodations after bleeding all over my hands. His black T-shirt is a lost cause, so I peel it off, revealing broad shoulders layered with scars and muscle.

Focus, Sammie. You’re a doctor, not a thirsty teenager.

I clean his injury which is thankfully not infected with bacteria, and just as I’m about to stitch him up, the gash begins to stitch up itself.

“That’s weird,” I mutter to myself, wondering if I’m hallucinating or not. 

While it's normal for werewolves to heal injuries by themselves, it can take days or even weeks. Only Alphas and Alpha Kings heal that quickly.

I stare at him. “No way I brought an Alpha home.”

But the evidence is right there. His wound closed up like magic. The man’s neck looks like there wasn’t even a gash there just seconds ago. 

I try not to think too much about it as I clean the traces of blood left before leaving him alone to rest. He’ll probably wake up tomorrow morning.

I push my hair back with a tired sigh and instinctively reach for the necklace around my neck.

Empty.

“Seriously?” I mutter under my breath, glaring at the unconscious werewolf sprawled across my bed. “First my boyfriend cheats, now you make me lose my favorite necklace.”

I head back to the living room where I’d dumped my bag. I pick out my phone from it and see over thirty missed calls from Xander. I immediately block and delete his number before putting a call through to a tow truck to help get my miserable car home. Just as I finish the call, I hear a crash from the direction of my bedroom. 

“Fuck,” I panic as I immediately head back only to see the man awake, already standing by my bed, next to him is the broken portrait of my convocation from med school. 

I freeze. 

The man is handsome. Hazel eyes beautifully glinting as he brings his gaze to me. His lips are down turned, cheeks flushed pink as he observes me like I’m an unknown creature.

“You broke my picture. That used to be my favourite,” I say light-heartedly, trying to calm the atmosphere even though I can feel Tania whimpering behind my head to get closer to our mate. 

“Where am I?” He asks. His voice is deep.

“Hm. Not even a thank you for saving your life?” I joke, wondering if he realises that I’m his mate.

“Who are you? Who sent you? Are you a rogue planning on killing me also?”

I blink, completely floored. “Are you serious right now?”

He doesn’t say anything, just glares at me like I’m holding a knife behind my back.

I take a breath, trying not to punch the man I just saved. “Let me break this down for you. One, I literally dragged your unconscious, half-dead body here. Two, I stitched you up… well, almost. You did some freaky fast healing thing. Three, you’re standing in my damn apartment. You’re in my room and were sleeping in my bed just seconds ago.” I throw my arms up in frustration. “So no, I’m not a rogue sent to kill you. If I was, I’d be terrible at my job.”

His jaw tightens, like he’s weighing my words, debating whether to believe me or not. I stow my phone away into my pocket and look away from him as I bend down to begin cleaning the mess he made of my portrait. While I clean, I feel his heated gaze on me, one that sends goosebumps -oddly the good type- down my back. 

“The scent off you,” his voice is weary as I feel his eyes burn into my back. “You're not human.”

“The same can be said about you,” I reply, standing up after picking the last shard of glass.

“And you’re my mate?”

“Is that supposed to be a rhetorical question?” I ask, moving to pour the glass shards into the bin next to my bed. Afterwards, I stand by my bed and stare at him.

For a moment he’s quiet as he stares back. He looks different now, calmer. Nerves unfrayed in a way that elevates his aura. Then, he speaks. “Is this what a mate bond feels like?”

“The goosebumps? Good ones? Like nothing else matters but the spark?” My voice comes out shyly, which is unlike me.

“Yes, that.”

I feel my body get heated as his gaze remains fixed on me and I can even feel my panties begin to dampen. 

Am I getting…horny? I can only hope he doesn’t smell that. I can’t be getting horny after just breaking up with my boyfriend of five years. I know it has to be the mate bond. Still, I can’t help the embarrassment creeping inside me at not being able to control my own body.

The man remains quiet, then suddenly his lips twitch as he smiles. He looks beautiful with a smile on his face. “I can smell that.”

“What?” I ask, wondering if something is burning because I smell nothing despite my pretty sharp nose.

He sniffs, then his smile widens. “You’re horny.”

I feel my cheeks heat up as I close my thighs, embarrassment washing over me. Just what I was fearing the most. “I’m not. You are making things up.”

“Am I?”

“Yes,” I lied.

He chuckles and closes the gap between us until he’s standing right in front of me. Since I’m seated, he towers over me and my neck aches from staring up at him, but I don’t break the gaze we share. It’s heated, one sparked with wanton need. A need I can only blame on the mate bond because I’m not usually like this, especially for a man whose life I’d just saved and brought to my home.

A man whose name I don’t even know.

Suddenly, he bends to his knees, eyes unblinking as he brings both of his hands to my face, cupping my cheeks.

“What are you doing?” I stutter, heart spasming in seconds of staccato.

“Staring,” he answers, hazel eyes flitting down to my lips.

The tension between us is heavy with desire, and I can feel my body itching to have his hands all over me, which is even crazier because I should be crying over my ex-boyfriend cheating on me and trying to mend my broken heart—not trying to get dicked down all because I met my mate who I know nothing about.

“I have always imagined what it would feel like to have a mate,” he whispers, face inching toward mine as his lips part. I clench my fingers against the bedsheet to steady myself for the inevitable, even though I know I should push him away. But my heart is winning over my head at the moment. “...It really feels like the most beautiful feeling ever.”

With that, he closes the distance and mashes his lips with mine.

For a moment neither of us move. Then with a deep exhale, he presses his lips harder against mine, and just then my eyes fall close as my lips part.

The kiss is deep and desperate. Nothing like the kisses I’ve ever shared before. It feels like I’m being consumed and if not for my hold on the sheet, I would lose myself.

Just as I unclench my hands from the sheets to wind my arms around his neck, he draws back, heaving loudly. “I can’t accept this bond between us.”

My chest twists as I open my eyes just in time to see him stand. I stand too, legs a little wobbly, but I manage as I stare at him, dumbfounded. “Am I getting rejected right after being kissed?”

He threads his fingers through his hair as he nods, the space in the room getting smaller. “I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean you’re sorry?”

“It’s just what I have to do. I can’t accept this mate bond.”

There’s a beat of silence as I try not to think about the fact that I’m literally getting my heart broken for the second time tonight, but this time by an absolute stranger who happens to be my mate. Great. “Okay,” I answer, trying to act nonchalant even though I can feel my heart tear and tears prick beneath my eyelids.

‘What do you mean by okay, Sammie. We can’t let him go. He’s our mate. Accept him,’ Tania howls inside my head, whimpering. 

‘Literally, he just rejected us, what else do you expect me to do?’

‘Force him to accept him or we’ll be forced to leave with pain and unhappiness for the rest of our lives,’ Tania says with a tone of finality before retreating.

I swallow hard. My parents once told me about the agony of rejection, that it scars forever. They were fated mates, and their love strong and enviable. I never thought I’d have that. Growing up in Hunter Bridge, I believed meeting another werewolf was impossible, and I was scared of dating anyone before Xander in fear of my identity getting exposed.

I only dated Xander in med school because he pestered me for over three months, and Tania wasn’t pleased about it. She believed we’d come across our mate someday, but I didn’t.

Turns out she was right.

“...but I am not rejecting you either,” the man adds, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Wait, what?”

“I won’t accept the mate bond, but I won’t reject it either. It’s for your own good,” he replies, looking around my room frantically, like he’s searching for something. “My name’s Kane, by the way. And thank you for saving my life, but I really need to leave right now.”