In Sickness and Health

2

I debated on shifting into my wolf and taking off but we were out in public. Stephan pulled into a drive way and I turned to him accusingly. "You said a lunch date. Not that we were going to your house!" 

Stephan flashed a beautiful smile my way, revealing his pearly whites. He placed a hand on my knee. "Relax, amour, I said lunch date, never specified where that date may be." 

I wanted to shuffle away from his touch but something about it soothed me. Stephan grinned when I got out of the car. His house, a cozy, rather large cabin, sat in the middle of woods. I hadn't noticed how close his house was to mine, only twenty minutes away, but the area and mood near and around it had changed completely from where I lived.

As if he could read my mind, he said, "I have acres of woods your wolf could run through and enjoy." 

I froze, my extremities tingling in a nervous way at his words. "W-what?" How did he know?

Stephan gave me a funny look. "I thought you would've guessed by now by my scent," he said, voice laced with confusion. "You're my mate." 

Many wolves were equipped with an excellent sense of smell, and Stephan was no exception. Normally weres can tell if another were is in a pack, a rogue, or mated just by their scent. When mated, wolves commonly have their scents blended with their mate's; a sign that they are taken. Pack wolves have their own scent, but their scents are all similar. Rogues, or lone wolves like myself as of right now, tend to have more of a gamey scent than that of a pack wolf. Weres often try to stick away from rogue wolves because weres that have been kicked out normally have done something to dishonor their pack. Knowing Stephan could smell all of that and more made my mouth dry.

I stiffened at his words, watching as he unlocked the door to his house. "Mate?" I echoed, reluctantly following him into his house. I cursed myself, realizing my sickness had affected my senses more drastically then what I had thought.

"Yes," he confirmed. He hesitated, then asked, "Why are you not in a pack?" 

"Was kicked out. How could you tell?" I asked dumbly, avoiding his eyes.

"Your scent. That's how I could tell you were my mate, mon lapin."

 I shook my head violently. "No. No, I can't have a mate." I couldn't have a mate. I'm not in a pack and sick. No wolf would want me anyways, not when they find out. Being outcasted from your own pack is like being stabbed in the back, but somehow you deserve it. Depending on the severity of the crime, the werewolf can either be sentenced to death, outcasted, or doomed to never have the privilege of having a mate, even if they found their soulmate. Many werewolves in the 1800s were hung if they were barren, or unable to have pups. The pack members believed that there was a curse hanging over the were and they were terrified of it spreading to other shewolves and potential baring. The potential baring, though rare, could consist of the same sex mates. One were would start to grow with the opposite genitals during the mating season, when they're in heat. After a pregnancy is conceived, the were's genitals won't change back until after the baby is delivered. Some werewolves prefer to be in their wolf form when giving birth, having heard it is easier that way. Though some wolves never get to experience the joy of having a baby, and it drove them mad.

To get rid of the curse, it was said that the barren werewolf must slaughter a non-cursed female and eat the raw heart. Only then would their curse be lifted.

Stephan paused and raised an eyebrow at me, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Why's that, beau?" 

I shook my head. "I just can't."