Dark Fates (A Paranormal Anthology)(54)

“Why would you do this for me? If I just showed up here recently, why do you care one bit about what happens to me? I’ve lived in the real world. I know exactly how little strangers give a shit about other strangers.”

He growled before he could stop himself, and her eyes widened. Hayden decided to ignore the instinct to stop and explain everything to her. The whole he-was-a-werewolf bit would have to wait until another time. “You’re not a stranger to me. Just because we met yesterday doesn’t mean that we’re not important to one another. Haven’t you ever had the experience of meeting someone and feeling like you’ve known them forever? Well, that’s how it was for you and me.”

There, that should settle it, he hoped.

Chelsea raised a finger and pointed at him. “You’re a werewolf.”

Well, he hadn’t expected that. What was the right response to that statement? He nodded. “That is correct. How do you know about werewolves? Did you get your memory back?”

She exhaled loudly. “No, I don’t have my memories of whatever I saw before. But I do know about werewolves. I’ve been living with the True Believers. They’re all obsessed with werewolves and any other monsters they can track down , as a matter of fact.”

He stood up, raising an eyebrow. Her careless use of a word he hadn’t heard in a long time bothered him more than it should have. If anyone else had said it, he wouldn’t have cared. This woman, however, even if she couldn’t remember him, happened to be his mate. “Monster, huh?” He extended his arms. “Do I look like a monster, Chelsea?”

“Not right now you don’t.” Her eyes flared with heat, and she stood up, his shirt hanging down to her knees. He’d forgotten that she’d been sleeping in it and seeing her dressed in one of his favorite pieces of clothing made his cock jump, argument or no argument.

“But I will look like a monster?” Had his mate been influenced by the people who had her? Was she some kind of werewolf bigot?

“I shouldn’t have said monster.” She put her hands on her hips. “That was wrong. I’ve been hearing that for years. I’m sorry. But you’re not exactly…normal. And neither am I, heaven knows I know that. I guess I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“All right then.” He could handle ignorance. Hatred constituted another matter altogether. “Here’s the deal. You’re my mate, Chelsea. Yesterday you knew that. You’d seen it a hundred times in some lifetimes and evidently seen some scenarios where we weren’t together. But in this one, we’re meant to be together. Trust me, I can feel it.”

In every part of his soul. In the very cells that let him breathe, he could feel her essence seeping into him. He needed her. How would he survive the sweet torture of having her close and not being able to claim her? Oh the madness…

She visibly swallowed. “Let me see if I can get this straight. I came here because, in my dream state, I knew that we were mates even though we’d never met before.”

“Exactly.”

“You’re a werewolf. I think I’m human. I mean I’m some kind of human-esque thing, even with my weirdness. Sex can happen? Wolves and, you know, non-Wolves?”

He hadn’t expected that question. Hayden didn’t know her well enough yet to read her facial expressions. Right now she looked…blank. Maybe he had approached this entirely wrong.

“It’s not all that common.” He shifted his stance suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “But it happens. It’s not like we’re not…built to be compatible. We have all the rights parts. It’s just that True Matings are rare, and, usually, if a wolf is settling into a relationship that isn’t a True Mating, they choose to do it with one of our own kind so that there aren’t the problems of existing in two different worlds. So, I guess it’s fair to say that most human-werewolf joinings are usually True Matings.”

She walked toward him, her eyes narrowed. “If all of this is true, then everything I’ve been through has been leading to this moment. My destiny. Is that it? Some universal deity decided that I should mate a werewolf and so, therefore, it shall be?”

“We believe that it’s the Moon. She guards us, shapes us, sets our destinies. We all play a role in the werewolf world. Or at least that’s how the stories go. I don’t pay that much attention to it. I’ve had other things to do.”

Like torture and destruction. He pushed those memories away. They had no place in the room with his mate. She would be protected for the rest of her days, even from the parts of his past he’d never forget.

She stood right in front of him now. He could smell the detergent he used on his clothes. The label called it scentless, it would never be entirely that way to him. But under those chemicals was the light honey scent of Chelsea. He might never wash that shirt again. Would there be a way to get her into all of his clothing? Hayden would have a good time getting her out of them again.

“So the moon made werewolves—”

A thought dawned on him, and he interrupted her. “Actually, it’s a love story.”

She sighed. “Really?”

“Don’t be skeptical. It’s a nice story if nothing else. Do you want to hear it?”

Chelsea raised her dark eyebrows. “Sure. I’ve got nothing else to do, I suppose.”