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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐘𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺-𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵: 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮
[𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰]↳ ↲
At the Loft
IT'S COLD. THE TEMPERATURE feels like it is barely scraping twelve degrees. It isn't actually as cold as it feels, but I am guessing that the mood in here has an impact on the temperature it feels. Mason hasn't left Stiles' side since this morning when the others left to go find Stiles' other Mate. He has stayed silent and barely looks like he is breathing, but I can hear him, thankfully. Even though they are very shallow, it is still a relief.
"Mason," I say, sitting down next to him and placing my hand on his shoulder. He doesn't even flinch at the contact and it makes me worry more. I peek at his face and find his eyes closed, tear tracks running down his face. "Oh, Mason. You're exhausted."
He mumbles something.
"What's the matter?"
"He wants us to stay here. Stay with him. Can't leave him."
"We aren't leaving the Loft. I promise, Mason."
He shakes his head. "He wants us to stay right here. It's all we can do. Keep him company until they get back."
I sigh.
"They're coming back, Stiles. Don't start doubting them now." His expression turns sour. "I know Lydia screamed when she picked up your keys. It could have just been the noise that caused it though. Banshees are unpredictable, Sti. You never know what they're screaming for."
"Mason?"
"I know they scream when someone is going to die!"
"Mason, what are you talking about? You're worrying me."
Mason's hand grabs mine and everything around me vanishes. The walls seem to melt away. No. Not melt. They just blur beyond recognition and take on a white hue. It's strange, and the warm sensation washing over me makes my skin crawl. Something is not right about this. Mason's hand tightens around mine and I look up to see both him and Stiles smiling at me, and Stiles looks healthy.
YOU ARE READING
THE HYBRID'S MATE, sterek [book 01] ✔
Fanfic[ COMPLETE ] ❝there is no such thing as fate in this world. it's simply a combination of one person circumstances colliding with another.❞ [ 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ] © frosch, 2016