Deceived

chapter 5

note: Chapter not edited

DECIEVED - CHAPTER 5

"Oh, I wish that God had not given me what I prayed for! It was not so good as I thought."

Johanna Spyri (1827 - 1901)

Swiss writer.

Heidi
⭐⭐⭐

Have you ever been so happy that your heart feels like it would suddenly grow wings and fly out of your chest? So happy that you feel like you're ten feet tall and nothing can break the spell of pure bliss you've found yourself cocooned in? So very happy that you feel like you're on drugs; swimming in bright pink cotton candy and unicorns?

Okay, maybe not the unicorns but you get the gist.

That's how I feel right now; blissfully happy.

When I was younger I had prayed for this day; envisioned what it would be like time and time again while locked in the privacy of my room. Dreamed of looking into the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen and hear that four letter word echo to the depth of my soul. To taste the sweetness of that lovely word on my tongue as my heart compelled me to utter them from lips parched with nervous bliss . . .

"Mate."

When I had turned 16 - the age that all wolves had their first change and gained the ability to communicate with their wolf - I was faced with the painful reality that I couldn't change nor could I hear my wolf. This had prompted me to dispense of those fantasies in order to save myself the hurt when everyone finds their mate while I remain mate less. But in the depths of my heart I still nurtured a small seed of hope that I had a mate out there. I wished every once in a while when I see a shooting star that I'd find that one person made for me . . . if he is out there.

And now, in the hall of Winchester academy, I have found that person! I had whispered that heart-warming four letter word and he had replied in a deep voice that had my heart fighting to break free from the confines of my chest. . ."Mate."

Now I'm standing here with my lips stretched into a face-splitting grin as I continue to stare into those perfect grey eyes. Those eyes I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life staring into.

My gaze fell to his lips as I watched mesmerized at the way they moved to form words my brain failed to register...

"Mate? Are you referring to me?" The deep timbre of his voice gave me goose pimples.

I watched in slow-motion as he reached out and place strong hands on either of my shoulders. Those hands felt so right on me.

He gently set me away from him and pried my fists from his shirt.

I didn't even realized that I'd had a death grip on his wrinkle-free white dress shirt . . . but wait, why was he pushing me away instead of pulling me closer?

And like the first touch of sunlight on a dark and dismal horizon, the first light of reason streamed into my temporarily darkened brain. I finally took notice of the way his dark brows drew together and his brilliant eyes shone with concern and mild confusion. My brain finally registered the way he said the word "mate" as a question, not a statement.

Something was wrong.

His eyes should be shining with awe, happiness or even relief. But none of those were in those grey orbs, only mild concern for my sanity and confusion at my reaction to him. At that moment I knew he didn't know who I was; he didn't feel the connection I did . . . didn't recognize me as his mate.

My heart broke into a billion pieces in that moment of realization. But how can this be? I asked myself, dazed. Shouldn't he be able to feel that we were the other half of each other's souls?