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

A New Perspective

Sky's POV-

"I want to go back." Jace whined lowly.

Chuckling, I buried my nose in his beautiful blonde head fur where the hair there was slightly darker, closer to a honey blonde color. "Stay a little longer. I'll show you, but first, there's something you need to do."

My golden wolf glanced up to me, confusion clouding his brilliant green eyes, his ears quirking up in curiosity and confusion. His head tilted, too, adding to just how breath taking my mate truly was.

"You're now a werewolf, and mate to Marcana's third-in-command. Everyone's anxious to see your pelt. What do you say? Want to give them a show?"

Jace shook his wolf head, sticking his muzzle under the pillow while he gazed up at me with those eyes.

"I don't want to. What if I'm not what they expect? What if I disappoint them?"

I laughed again, shaking my head lightly. "Then I dare them to say a word against you. I'm the one who has to love you so, they can say whatever they want." I assured him. He whined again as if doubting my words. He was being insecure about his pelt, and I think I can guess why he'd be that way.

In our world, as stereotypical and shallow as it may seem, a werewolf's strength is measured by the color of his or her pelt. Wolves with lighter colored fur are viewed as weaker, smaller, and hence, incapable of standing in leadership positions. Something that is steadily being refuted with each passing generation.

But still, tradition is something difficult to change, to break. Even with sub wolves proving that they can stand as equals to dominants, many subs and dominants are traditionalists. They believe and live by the old way.

And mates were no different. Dominant wolves prided themselves on being mated to sub wolves with exceptionally beautiful pelts. Especially subs with pure white pelts.

There are the few who don't care about pelt color. They're just damn happy to have someone to spend the rest of their lives with.

And up until a few months ago, I was one of those dominants who wanted a pure white sub. Because subs like those would never object or fight my wishes. I basically had all the power, and they would continue to love me so long as I treated them right.

But I'm not like that anymore.

I fell in love with Jace. And I fell hard, too. Completely fine with having a human mate I had the ability to save, imagine my luck when I learned he was in transition. Not only did I save him, but now he's becoming a werewolf?

Damn, I'm so lucky.

And now that he'd been strong enough to survive the shift, to hell with his pelt. Like I said before, I don't care whether Jace is the first wolf to have a purple pelt so long as he lives.

I'd love him anyway.

"You're going to be okay, Jace. Your pelt's very pretty." I assured him, grinning as I ran my fingers through the fur on his back.

"Y-You think so?" he asked meekly, keeping his head ducked low and his tail swished. I arched a brow, my gaze following his tail's movement, the motion making me laugh.

"I know so." I replied, getting off the bed. I walked over to the door and turned the knob to open it before stripping off my sweats. I noticed Jace's wolf head pop up as he watched me curiously, his tailing swishing faster when I started to shift into my black wolf.

A moment later, I stood on the floor on four legs, huge black paws and powerful legs acting as my support. Even if the world still seemed bigger even in my wolf form, I was still pretty large; larger than the average grey wolf.