I lied.
It was a mistake.
Now my mate hates me.
Can I blame him?
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Storming through my office door, I slam it shut. My heart rapidly beats beneath my chest as my body begs me to turn around, take Willow back to her room, and complete our bond–a bond that should have been completed two years ago.
I'm so tired of fighting against what's meant to be.
A pained howl escapes as this morning replays in my mind.
Willow's warm, little body had been tucked tightly into my chest. Her sweet, inviting scent of amber, caramel, and smoke surrounded me as I woke with my face nuzzled in her soft, bite-able neck. My canines had been fully extended then and ready to bite down. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water again. I was so close to ending our pain and years of frustration. For a moment, I couldn't remember why we hadn't completed our bond yet. I'd spent years dreaming of waking up with her body next to mine and, finally, I had her where I wanted her–where I had always wanted her.
What was the point of suffering when Willow and I were fated?
I opened my mouth, and gently pressed the tips of my canines to her flesh, ready to end the pain and misery for good, willing to throw away years of determination in a moment of weakness.
But then the memories came–horrific memories of my mother, bloody and broken–kept me from biting down. I snapped my mouth shut and pushed out of bed so fast that I accidentally pushed Willow out of bed and onto the floor.
A swarm of confusing emotions filled me.
I wanted to pick her up and apologize.
I wanted to leave the room and never be near her again.
I wanted to scream and kiss her.
The battle had taken over my mind and I was losing control quickly. I was either going to complete the bond or kill her, and neither was acceptable. If I hadn't gotten away from her, I'd have made a mistake I couldn't take back.
I was so close to being out that door.
Why couldn't she just let me leave?
I run my hands down my face as the events of this morning replay.
"R-Rowy." Willow's soft, delicate voice rings in my head. So much fear and hope layered her voice.
The last time I heard that name was the morning of the day my mother disappeared.
"I love you," she had said as she walked out the door of the pack house, pausing briefly to place her palm against my cheek. "I'm proud of you, Rowy. Always remember that. You'll make an incredible Alpha someday." Her smile sent a swarm of pride throughout my chest. Her hand had dropped from my cheek, and she walked away, shouting over her shoulder, "Oh, and clean your room. I've noticed a particularly unpleasant smell starting to emit from it. I get you're a teenager and a wolf, but that's no excuse to smell like you collect week-old roadkill and roll in it all day and night."
