Something New

Blaire White.

Nimble fingers combing through my hair and massaging my scalp roused me from my deep slumber. I moaned in contentment as the feeling gently pulled me into sleep's gentle embrace. The musky scent of sandalwood invaded my senses as I slowly became painfully aware of the delicious soreness between my legs.

Fluttering my eyes open, I was met with unfamiliar steel-grey eyes that strangely held warmth as he steadily held my gaze. I memorised the most minute details on his face: the curve of his light pink lips, the way his lashes fanned over his high cheekbones as he blinked slowly, the way his dark, wavy hair fell to his strong shoulders. My fingers itched to run through it, to confirm if they were as soft as they looked.

His gaze was almost hypnotic, and I couldn't bring myself to look away. The longer I stared at the stranger I had unwittingly given myself to the previous night, the more I realised why he was gazing at me as though I were the most precious thing he'd ever held.

Suddenly my eyes went wide in shock as I realised the real reason I was drawn to him—the reason his touch set my skin ablaze—was that he was my mate. But how? I was so sure Sinclair and I were going to be mates. Or was it because he died? That couldn't be it.

“You're finally awake,” he rasped softly, his deep baritone snapping me out of my thoughts. His hand moved to caress the curve of my cheekbone, but I snapped out of whatever trance his voice put me in. I untangled myself from his arms, scooting away from him and clutching the covers to my naked chest.

“I...I need to go,” I stuttered, my need to get out of that situation heightening as I shuffled out of bed. I ignored the sting of moving too fast when I was so sore, snatching my clothes that were strewn across the room.

“What?” he questioned, climbing off the bed and quickly pulling on his briefs. He was in front of me the next second, his brows furrowed in worry, or was it panic?

“Why would you leave?” He murmured, his gaze searching my face for an answer I couldn't provide. I had lost everything and everyone I'd ever known, and now here I was with my mate, the one thing I had always hoped for, but he wasn't Sinclair, just like I'd believed.

“You belong here, with me,” he enunciated, holding my cheeks as his eyes searched mine. I shook my head, refusing to believe that I deserved any of this.

“You don't understand.” I shook my head as my mouth trembled, and a tear slid down my cheek. A part of me was afraid he'd reject me; he was an Alpha. I could deduce that from his suffocating aura. His expression softened as he gently wiped my tears, shushing me and pulling me into his arms.

“I'm here, love. You're going to be fine,” he murmured softly, his arm rubbing lazy circles on my back.

Was this a dream? Meeting my mate, who clearly adored me, after losing everything? He pulled back, a small, reassuring smile gracing his lips as he looked at me.

“Why don't you go freshen up, and then we can talk over breakfast, yeah?” he offered, wiping the remnants of tears that stained my cheek. I nodded, and he beamed, walking towards the bathroom door and pulling it open.

“Here, I'll have clothes waiting on the bed by the time you get out,” he said, and I nodded, walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind me. Facing the mirror, I dropped the covers wrapped around me. My finger traced the hickeys around my neck and over my breasts. As I thought back to the intense night we had, I realised that man was a beast and a freak in bed.

"Isn't he perfect and knows his way around our bodies? He knew we were his the moment he laid his eyes on us." Hera spoke excitedly, and I almost rolled my eyes.

“Weren't you against me sleeping with him?” I retorted, searching the bathroom cabinet for a spare toothbrush I could use.

“I was only trying to protect you,” she scoffed, laying her head on her paws and giving me her own version of the stink eye.

“Fine,” I said, almost giving up on arguing with her.

"But he was a stranger before I recognised him as our mate,” I admitted, to which she harrumphed and ignored me. I sighed, proceeding to brush my teeth and shower. With a fluffy towel wrapped tightly around me, I opened the door and found the room empty. My eyes zeroed in on the clothes neatly folded at the edge of the large bed.

As I picked them up, I noticed the sheets had been changed, and the room was clean too. I hadn't heard anyone come in, though, so that was impressive. Walking back into the bathroom, I quickly changed into a navy, loose-fitting shirt, which was two sizes too big and smelled a lot like London, and a pair of boxer shorts.

I stepped out of the bathroom just in time to see London rolling a trolley filled with food into the room. He looked fresh out of the shower, dressed in grey sweats and a white shirt that fit snuggly around his biceps. He smiled sweetly when our eyes met, and I quickly looked away, abashedly, as heat crept up my cheeks.

“I figured you'd be uncomfortable eating with the rest of the pack in the dining area,” he said softly, pulling out a cushioned seat for me. I plopped down on it while he carefully placed pancakes stacked high, bacon, eggs, and fruits all in front of me on the small round coffee table. I gaped at how much food he brought, and he chuckled.

“I didn't know what you liked, so I brought all of it,” he grinned, pulling the cushioned seat that was originally positioned opposite mine to my side before taking a seat and handing me my cutlery.

“Go on, eat,” he encouraged softly, moving to stack pancakes onto my plate and drizzling maple syrup over it. I mumbled my thanks, and, cutting a piece, I ate it and moaned at the taste of the warm goodness. My eyes snapped open at the sound of a low growl. My mates eyes were switching between red and grey, and it was almost scary to witness.

“Careful, little mate.” His tone was guttural as he leaned in and cupped my cheek, swiping the side of my lips with his left thumb while I stared wide-eyed at him. He smirked and sucked the syrup off it, leaning back in his seat to watch me with mirth swirling in his grey orbs.

“Eat up, love. We wouldn't want that to get cold,” he smirked as heat crept up my face again.

We were in a comfortable silence for the next few minutes before he cleared his throat, facing me with furrowed brows.

"I got word that your pack was attacked by rogues, and there were no survivors,” he said carefully, gauging my reaction to the news.

“Except for you,” he added.

I merely nodded, looking away from his eyes, which held a mixture of anger and tenderness.

“You're safe now, love. I would never let any harm come to you,” he leaned in, holding my dainty hands in his larger one as he looked me in the eyes as a sign of reassurance.

“I promise,” he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to the back of my palm that sent ripples of warmth down to my most intimate parts. Maybe having London as my mate wouldn't be so bad, but the guilt of being happy just a day after I lost the person I'd loved my entire life was eating me alive. It felt like I was committing a grave sin, even though I had no power to choose who my mate could have been.