Monica Y
During the thunderstorm, I struggled through the Pack Institute alone, dragging a heavy feed cart behind me.
My rain-soaked lab coat clung to my skin, and my shoes were caked with mud.
The message I had sent through the mind-link to my fated mate, Arthur Voss, half an hour ago was still unanswered.
"Could you come down and bring me an umbrella?"
I should have heard back from him instantly, but there was still no response.
The power had gone out in the animal facility during the downpour.
I pulled out my nearly dead phone and found Arthur's number.
He was listed as the lab's emergency contact.
My finger hovered over the call button.
Then I looked up. Through the thick curtain of rain, I saw two figures sitting side by side inside the glass-walled lab.
They were my mate, Arthur, and Lina Brooks, a junior researcher in our lab.
He was gently ruffling Lina's hair.
"Don't worry. I'll take care of everything for you."
The instruments on the table were the same ones I had begged Arthur to teach me to use three years ago.
His voice was as gentle as I'd ever heard it.
I remembered how I had been when I first met Arthur.
Back then, I was too scared to take a cab alone.
When my wolf spiraled out of control, I would panic.
When problems came up, I would hide.
When an experiment failed, I would call him for help and keep him on the phone for three hours.
Every single time, he brushed aside my pleas for help.
"Irene, you need to solve your own problems.
You can't keep waiting for someone to rescue you."
So I learned. I gritted my teeth and handled everything alone.
When samples were contaminated, I tracked down the cause myself.
When a project fell apart, I dealt with it on my own.
I spent countless nights teaching myself technical skills that had once seemed impossible to master.
Yet none of it ever earned me even a hint of his approval.
I looked down. This time, I didn't hesitate.
With the last sliver of battery, I deleted Arthur's number.