Her Mates

8

Casey crossed her arms, her expression a mixture of disbelief and frustration. "So you really want to do this now?"

I nodded, resolute. Seated comfortably in the wheelchair Phil had quickly secured for me, I was ready to go.

Casey sighed. "I'm not sure this is a good idea, considering you should be in bed. I'm just worried, that's all."

I offered her a small, appreciative smile. "That's nice of you, really. But I need to know what's going on, and standing in my way isn't helping. I'm sure you can make an exception this once. So please, move aside. Thank you."

Phil had helped me into the wheelchair with ease, and now, finally, I was mobile. But I had barely rolled a few feet before stopping abruptly. Just outside my hospital room, a group of familiar faces sat gathered, their collective gaze snapping toward me the moment they noticed my presence. Their expressions varied—shock, exasperation, mild amusement—but none of them seemed particularly thrilled to see me up and about.

"What the hell are you doing out of bed?" Zacharias was the first to rise, towering over me with a questioning look. Before I could answer, he turned his attention to Phil. "Why isn't she in bed?"

I rolled my eyes. "I decided someone should show me what this whole werewolf thing is really about. So, here I am."

The silence that followed was thick, filled with unspoken objections and exasperated sighs. Damon was the first to break it. "I don't think this is a good idea. You've already been through a lot today."

I exhaled sharply. "Why is everyone around me so stubborn and stupid?" Frustration surged through me, and in my irritation, I moved my broken hand just a little too much. A sharp wave of pain shot through me, and I clenched my teeth, unwilling to let it show. I would not appear weak—not now.

"I'm old enough to take care of myself," I continued, my voice firm. "I've been doing it all my life, and I will continue to do so. And if you want me to believe everything you've been telling me, you need to prove it. So move."

After exchanging hesitant glances, the group finally relented, nodding their agreement. As I rolled forward, I caught Juri whispering something to Emilia—something about "the born Luna." The words sent a strange shiver down my spine.

● ● ●

Leaving the hospital turned out to be surprisingly easy. No nurses or doctors tried to stop us as we moved as a tight-knit group toward the exit. Once outside, the fresh air hit me, and I realized how exhausting it was to maneuver a wheelchair with only one working hand. Thankfully, Hunter stepped in, offering to push me. I hesitated for only a moment before accepting. His gentle green-gold eyes made it impossible to refuse.

"Where exactly are we going? If you're planning to kill me, just say it now." My voice was light, but I wasn't entirely joking.

Laughter rippled through the group, though I remained serious. "Guys, really. We're heading straight into a forest. What am I supposed to think?"

Emilia smirked. "We can't prove we're werewolves without shifting. And we can't exactly do that where humans might see us. Unlike you, most people don't stumble into these things."

Fair point.

The deeper we went into the forest, the more I took in my surroundings. The weather was perfect—clear skies, warm sunlight filtering through the trees. Birds flitted through the branches, and I even spotted a squirrel leaping from tree to tree. For a moment, I lost myself in the serenity of it all. But I was snapped back to reality when we came to an abrupt stop.

"Wait, what's happening?" I asked, confused.

Zacharias turned to me. "You wanted proof. This is it."

I opened my mouth to respond, but then a stray thought struck me—where was my sister? My head snapped up, scanning the area. "Where's Casey?"

"Phil and Casey thought it'd be best if we handled this ourselves," Hunter said. "They trust us. And, well... we're your mates."

I let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Right. My werewolf soulmates. This is absolutely normal. Totally reasonable." I shook my head, still laughing at the absurdity of it all.

The group didn't seem to share my amusement. They watched me as if I was the one missing something obvious.

"Are you done?" Emilia asked, her tone edged with irritation.

I took a deep breath, suppressing the last of my laughter. "Fine. So, who's turning into a giant dog first?"

"It's not hilarious," Emilia muttered.

"If you say so."

Juri stepped forward. "Damon and I will shift. It's best if you see it firsthand."

I frowned. "And how exactly does that work?"

"At first, it requires communication with our inner wolf," Juri explained patiently. "But with time, it becomes second nature—almost automatic. Some young wolves even shift in their sleep. It's quick, and when you're ready, we'll begin."

I gave him a nod. "Go for it."

And then, within seconds, they were gone.

In their place stood two massive wolves.

A sharp jolt of fear shot through me. Holy. Shit.

I instinctively tried to put distance between us, forgetting for a moment that I was in a wheelchair. My breathing turned erratic, heart pounding wildly in my chest. My brain screamed at me to run, but my body was frozen. They had been telling the truth all along.

The air in my lungs felt like it was vanishing. Panic wrapped its claws around me, tightening with every second. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The two wolves stepped closer, and the pressure in my chest grew unbearable.

"Maeve, calm down!" Zacharias's voice cut through the chaos, but I barely registered it. I gasped for air, my body trembling violently.

Then—sharp pain.

A sudden slap across my cheek jolted me back to reality. Stunned, I blinked up at Emilia, her hand still raised. Zacharias was already grabbing her, pulling her back with a furious snarl. "How the hell could you hit her? She's human! She's already injured, and now she's bleeding again!"

I barely heard them arguing. My breathing was still uneven, but the panic was receding. I was grounded again, no longer drowning in fear. Slowly, I became aware of the two wolves lying in front of me, their snouts resting gently against my legs in an attempt to soothe me.

Zacharias turned back to me, his voice softer now. "Are you okay, little mate? Can I check your face? Just nod or shake your head."

I nodded numbly, letting him wipe away the blood from my cheek with his shirt. His fingers were careful, gentle.

I swallowed hard, my voice barely more than a whisper as I finally spoke. "You guys are actually fucking werewolves."