The Werewolf's Mate (Book 1) (REWRITING)

Jaxon's Concern

Sky's POV-

It had already been two days since the fight had been sanctioned. There was only one more day left until the fight happened, and Jace was growing agitated. While he remained adamant that no matter what the result, he'd stay with me, I guess he wanted me to win regardless. Not just to show Jaxon who was stronger, but to put an end to any of Jaxon's future advances.

And because of it, I was training harder than usual just to make sure I secured my victory.

Carter and I had hit the gym at four this morning, and we'd sparred, mostly. And I realized my decision to spar with Carter was a good one. I'd picked up a few things and learned a few moves to use against Jaxon. And Carter was completely fine with me burrowing some of his moves if it meant 'burying' Jaxon.

Once again, while everyone else went about their normal daily lives, Jace was stuck at home. We'd had sex after I returned from the gym, but at this point, it was more a necessity than pleasure. I had wanted to remain at home, since his transition was getting closer to the shift, but he'd run me out.

Literally.

He threw a frying pan after me when I refused to get out the house. Of course, he hadn't aimed at me since he missed by a landslide, but it got the message across.

Now I'm at school and bored off my ass. Nevermind Ashton and Sasha didn't leave me alone, nor did Carter and Asher for that matter. Dale was there too, with Laken, but they were silent mostly. Still, I wanted Jace by my side.

I didn't even want to be here.

I'd only left the house for fear that Jace wouldn't miss the next time he threw a kitchen utensil at me.

Jaxon had yet to approach me, and part of me did want him to do so. If only it meant breaching the agreement, I wouldn't even have to fight him for what was rightfully mine. It was bittersweet really. I felt like I didn't need a reason to defend what was mine, but at the same time, I needed Jaxon to know just what he was fucking with.

Jace was mine, and mine alone. Only I was allowed to see and know him the way I did. Anyone else who did so against my wish, was just asking for trouble. Werewolves were territorial creatures, and they were most territorial and possessive when it came to their mates.

It didn't matter your pack rank. Alpha, beta, third or fourth-in-command, middle rank, omega, dominant or sub; we were possessive assholes where our mates were concerned. Even omegas would kill you over their mates.

Mates were a sensitive topic, and sometimes they brought out the worst in a werewolf. Men had lost their lives over the dispute of mates, like Ronan, who was killed by my father over my mother. From what people say, Ronan was clearly stronger than my father, and it was a miracle he'd even won.

Isaiah used to say that if my mother hadn't been pregnant with me, dad might have lost. He said my mother was a strong woman. She could have survived on her own without my father. But knowing she'd be left at Ronan's mercy, and no way of knowing whether Ronan would kill me or not, my father fought as hard as he did. And he sure as hell wasn't about to just hand over his mate and unborn child.

Just like I was not about to hand the only family I had left over to Jaxon. My mate was in transition, and he needed me to help him complete it. And who's to say that if our bond was broken, somehow, the cancer wouldn't return and take him away from me altogether. If that happened, I would really have no one, and Jaxon's efforts would have been all for nothing.

"Let me ask you something."

I growled lowly in my throat at the voice that spoke. And it wasn't a question. He was demanding that he had his own way.