Chapter 5
750words
The clearing becomes a flurry of activity as the Blackwater medical team lands and transfers their injured. I focus intently on Kira's wound.
It's only after the helicopter departs with the critical patient that I realize we're almost alone. Tyler is loading our supplies into the ambulance, Kira is resting inside, and the remaining Blackwater warrior has moved to speak with their driver.
Up close, he's even more imposing. Tall and powerfully built, with short black hair and eyes like silver coins. His face is all hard angles—strong jaw, straight nose, high cheekbones. Handsome in a severe, almost predatory way.
I remember now, he's the stranger I bumped into that night after Damon left, when I was distracted.
I stare for a moment, startled by the sudden proximity. "Oh—I'm sorry," I stammer, not sure what I'm apologizing for.
"Thank you for saving Ellie's life," he says, his voice deep and controlled. "She's young, new to patrol."
I nod stiffly, packing my remaining supplies. "Just doing my job."
"I should go," I say, turning away. "My patient needs rest."
His hand catches my arm, gentle but firm. The contact sends a shock through my system, my wolf howling in recognition.
"Wait," he says quietly. "We need to talk."
"About what?" I ask, though a part of me already knows. Can already feel it in the way my body responds to his touch, the way my wolf strains toward him.
His eyes hold mine, intense and certain. "You feel it too, don't you? " He pauses, his gaze never leaving mine. "You're my mate."
Three simple words that shatter my carefully constructed world.
"No," I say, pulling my arm free. "I'm not."
"You feel it too," he insists, not reaching for me again but standing his ground. "We met near the forest edge last week. I've been looking for you since."
"You're mistaken," I say, backing away. "There's no such thing as mates."
"We both know that's not true. I've been waiting for you for a long time." He looks somewhat confused, but his expression softens, as if pleading with me.
I shake my head, fighting the pull I feel toward him. "I have to go."
"Please," he says, his voice lower now, almost gentle despite its depth. "At least tell me your name."
I hesitate, every instinct telling me to run, but something in his eyes makes me pause. "Luci," I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper. "Lucille."
"Lucille," he repeats, as if savoring the sound.
I turn and practically run to the ambulance, my heart pounding painfully against my ribs.
As we drive away, I catch a glimpse of him in the side mirror, standing tall and still, watching us leave.
My wolf whines pitifully, already feeling the distance growing between us and our mate.
No, not our mate. Never our mate. I can't afford the luxury of fate, not with the curse hanging over me.
That night, I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see silver eyes and feel the electric touch of his hand on my arm. My wolf paces restlessly, whining for what she's lost.
I reach for my phone at 2 AM and text Damon: *Are you free tomorrow night?*
His reply comes minutes later: *For you? Always.*
Relief washes through me. Damon is safe. Damon doesn't believe in mates. Damon is my choice, not my fate.
And choices can't kill me the way fate surely will.
---
"You look exhausted," Damon says when he picks me up the next evening. His eyes, warm amber instead of piercing silver, study my face with concern. "Rough day at the clinic?"
I nod, grateful for the excuse. "A few emergency cases."
He doesn't need to know about the border incident. Doesn't need to know about the man with silver eyes who claimed me as his mate.
"I know just what you need," Damon says, opening his truck door for me. "Comfort food and zero pressure."
He takes me to a small diner in neutral territory. After we order, he reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. His touch is warm, comforting, but it doesn't send electricity racing through my veins the way—
"So," he says after we order, "want to talk about what's really bothering you?"
I freeze with my water glass halfway to my lips. "What do you mean?"
His smile is gentle. "Luci, I've been Second for eight years. I can read people pretty well. Something's got you spooked."
