The Wolf Lord's Mate

Chapter Twelve

"Are you quite alright?" A young man stood on the other side of the fountain, his curls ruddy and his shirt-cuffs flecked with dirt. I had been so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn't heard him approach. I could practically kick myself for that; I'd hardly been out of the Alleys for two weeks, and there I was, already losing my wits. It only served as another reminder not to get too comfortable in this place.

"Perfectly fine," I sniffed, shoving the handkerchief back into my pocket, "I apologize if I'm in the way."

"Not at all," He offered me a wide, toothy smile, "I don't suppose you're Mira, are you? Isa mentioned his Lordship had brought on a seamstress." Ah—so this was Marcus. He was taller than I had imagined he would be, though still nowhere near the height of a Wolf.

"You're Tom's son?"

"That's right," Marcus nodded, "I only got back a few hours ago, and the old man's already put me to work."

"Fixing this?" I motioned to the broken spigot of the fountain, but Marcus only shook his head.

"No, that's never worked, not as long as I've been here, at least," Marcus squinted up at it, crossing his arms over his chest, "One of the garden gates came off its hinges, I just need to get it straight."

"I don't suppose you'd want any help?" I asked, pushing myself up off the ledge of the fountain, "I have no idea how to fix a hinge, but I'm good at taking directions."

"You wouldn't mind?" Marcus asked.

"It would be rather nice to do something useful." I said, wandering around the side of the fountain. It would also be nice to have a distraction, something else to focus on other than Lord Nathaniel. Being trapped in my sewing room all day, surrounded by his scent, his clothes, the sound of him always lingering somewhere nearby—it was all too much.

When I was young, I used to wander to the bakery just at the edge of the Alleys, torturing myself by staring at all of the sweet pastries and jams. I would linger just close enough to smell them, fantasize about one of its patrons seeing me and offering to buy me one, but they never did. I went home hungry and unsatisfied every time, until eventually Mother caught on and told me to stop going. Told me that it wasn't fair to taunt myself with something I would never have. Dreams are dangerous, especially when they spiral out of your control. When they fly out of your reach.

"Let's see your hands, then," Marcus cleared his throat, his smile pulling into a dimple at the corner, "Got to see what we're working with here."

I obeyed, offering my hands with my palms up. "Well?" I asked, and Marcus hummed in approval at the toughened skin of my palms and the hard callouses on each of my fingers.

"I take it you didn't come from a fancy dress shop, did you?" Marcus took one of my hands in his, running his thumb over the scars on my knuckles.

"I'm from the Alleys." Marcus's eyebrows shot up at that.

"How did you manage to end up here, then?" He looked down me curiously, letting go as I pulled my hand away.

"That's a question I've asked myself many times," I sighed, glancing back towards the Lord's manor, "I suppose I was in the right place at the right time. A bit of luck, maybe?"

"You're a believer in luck, then? More so than fate?" Marcus motioned for me to follow him, leading me away from the fountain, and down another dirt path.

"That's an interesting question," I said, "I don't know if I believe in fate. I think that fate is reserved for Wolves, perhaps, and we must only hope for luck. The rest we have to do for ourselves. I learned when I was very young that nothing would ever come to me unless I worked for it." I prodded Marcus in the arm, "What about you? Which do you believe in? Fate or Luck?"

"Both," Marcus said after a moment, "I've lived too long in close quarters with Wolves not to believe in fate. There was another girl who used to work here—Suzanne? I don't know if Isa mentioned her?"

"She did." I nodded, remembering what Isa had told me on the day I arrived. Of her former roommate, a maid who had been claimed by a Wolf, and was now somewhere off supposedly living happily as a mate. At the time, the idea had horrified me, but after spending so much time in Nathaniel's company.....No. I could not think like that.

"I think fate can affect anyone, especially after seeing it for myself." Marcus stopped at the edge of the path, where an iron gate stood tilted between two hedges. "You're sure you want to help?"

"Certainly," I smiled, prodding him in the arm again, "Consider me yours to direct."

A low growl ripped through the air, and I jolted, pulling away from Marcus. Nathaniel stood at the edge of the garden path, his lip curled up in a snarl. Sheer terror coursed through me as he bared the sharpened ends of his canines, my heart beating so fast in my chest I thought it would burst. And yet—there was something in his ferality that made my knees bend, sending a pulse straight to the apex between my thighs. I had truly gone mad, to somehow find myself aroused by a Wolf who looked as though he wanted to rip me apart.

Only, Nathaniel wasn't looking at me. His angry glare had skipped past me entirely, his growl aimed elsewhere. He was looking at Marcus. 

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