Little witch

Research

Adeline's POV

The motel room felt even smaller at night, the dim light from the bedside lamp casting long shadows across the walls. I tossed my keys onto the small table by the door and dropped onto the edge of the bed, my thoughts still tangled from the evening. The memory of Titus's touch lingered, and I couldn't shake the strange pull I felt whenever he was near.

With a sigh, I pulled my laptop from my bag and set it on the desk by the window. The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only sound as I opened a search engine and typed in "Titus Hunt." I found little beyond some basic info about him and the pack. It wasn't much, and I needed more.

Next, I typed "werewolves and mates" into the search bar, hoping against hope that I wouldn't find anything relevant. Yet, as the results loaded, I couldn't ignore the uneasy feeling in my stomach. My logical side was screaming to dismiss it all as nonsense, but the pull I felt was far too real to ignore.

I clicked on several articles about werewolf lore and mates. The more I read, the more my unease grew. The concept of mates in werewolf mythology was intriguing and disturbing. According to what I found, mates were described as having a profound, almost magical connection—one that was both irresistible and all-encompassing.

"Great," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "Just what I needed."

The descriptions matched my experiences perfectly: the intense attraction, the overwhelming urge to be near someone, and the sense of completeness. The more I read, the more it seemed like the pull I felt around Titus was exactly what these articles were talking about.

I came across a particularly striking article that mentioned physical and emotional responses that marked the presence of a mate. I'd definitely felt those responses—how my heart raced when Titus was near, and the way his presence seemed to affect me on a deeper level.

"This can't be real," I said aloud, trying to convince myself. "It's just coincidence."

But the more I read, the more I realized that my denial was being chipped away. The signs were too consistent, too exact. I had always been skeptical of supernatural claims, but everything I was learning felt like it was pointing straight at Titus and me.

I closed my laptop and sat in the growing silence of the room, my mind a whirl of confusion and apprehension. The idea of meeting Titus for coffee, knowing what I now suspected, was overwhelming. What if I was wrong and ended up making a complete fool of myself? And if I was right, what did it mean for us?

My hands trembled slightly as I rubbed my eyes. I needed to keep a clear head, but the possibility of a supernatural connection was hard to ignore. I was faced with the daunting task of figuring out how to approach Titus, how to discuss this with him without sounding insane.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of thoughts racing through my head. I had to be rational and composed, no matter how unsettling the idea seemed. The next few days would be crucial. I had to prepare myself for whatever might come.

I reached for a book from my bag, hoping to distract myself. As I flipped through the pages, my thoughts kept drifting back to Titus and the unnerving possibility of a deeper connection.

Sleep was slow to come, my mind still churning with uncertainty and apprehension. The one thing that was clear was that I needed to face whatever was ahead with as much clarity and courage as I could muster. Whether it was a magical connection or just a confusing situation, I had to be ready.

As I finally closed the book and turned off the lamp, the room was plunged into darkness. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts still tangled around the enigmatic figure of Titus and the pull that seemed to bind us together.