☾ Senna ☽

three

Everything felt different now, mainly because everything is different now.

The second his eyes landed on her, he knew that his life would never be the same. Every single werewolf is taught from a young age to look forward to the day they will meet their mate, the person they are meant to spend the rest of their life with; and he finally found her.

His mother will already begin to ask for grandkids, she's made that very clear.

His father will pass over his title to him officially, which he has been looking forward to.

His sisters will want to meet her, and hopefully they'll love her.

His brothers will want to be him, simply because she's gorgeous.

But all of this gets complicated when she has no idea what she's supposed to mean to him -- what she already means to him.

Humans don't understand the significance of a mate to a werewolf, let alone that werewolves even exist. So how can she possibly begin to understand the connection they already share when she has no idea what they're meant to be?

These were the thoughts that ran through his head as he sat inside the empty room. Sweat dripped down his face, splashing on to the floor, and all he could do was watch it fall. His muscles were taut through his drenched shirt, his fists clenched as he just continued to stare.

It's been hours since he's heard anything from Simon.

'What the hell is taking him so long?'

He growled, standing up from his seat as he walked over to the first thing he saw and began attacking it. He threw punch after merciless punch, the skin on his knuckles splitting open as the blood poured from his hands.

He didn't care. He couldn't.

Releasing all of his pent up anger and frustration just felt so good, especially because he knew he couldn't release his wolf anytime soon.

'He might do something they'll both regret if he does.'

All of a sudden, he felt something grip his arm, keeping him from continuing his assault. The unexpected action sent his wolf into a frenzy as he turned on whoever it was, his large hand gripping the person's throat so tight, his hands turned white.

"What... the fuck!" The person spat, instantly gripping onto Vincent's arm to force him off.

He recognized the person's voice before he could see clearly. It was Simon.

His hand immediately left his throat, falling limply to his side. But that didn't stop Simon from pushing Vincent away, his eyes zeroing in on his friend. "Control yourself," he grumbled, rubbing his throat lightly.