Just A Werewolf's Mate

3. Just Till Lunch

Mark

When I woke up I instantly knew that something was wrong. I jumped out from under the cover, waking up my wife as I went. I ran over the cold floor in just my boxers and I fastened my pace until I was downstairs, not stopping for Libby who kept calling my name behind me.

My wolf was on edge, which did nothing to sooth my raging panic that was blossoming in my chest. Please don't be gone, please don't be gone, please don't be gone, please don't be -

Gone.

I was right to be worried.

As soon as I stepped into the room I knew it and seeing the empty couch only confirmed it.

He was gone. Just like her, he was gone, the only thing left of her, left of what we used to be.

My panic grew and I sank down to the floor. This is my fault! All my fault. Why would he want to live here after all I put him through? I should have looked harder -

"Mark, honey, are you alright?" I heard a voice behind me say. I didn't turn around to look at her, but I could imagen her standing there with sleepy eyes looking at me with worry. My eyes burned as I felt a hand on my chin and I noticed how Libby had gotten in front of me.

Slowly, she tilted my chin upwards, as she dropped down on one knee. Face to face, she saw everything and the pain in her eyes were obvious. That was my fault too.

"He's gone."

With a gasp, she pulled me into a hug and I leaned into her touch until I'd calmed down and I leaned away enough so that we'd be face to face, giving her a smile. "Thank you."

She smiled, took my hand and we got to our feet. "Have you tried following his scent?" I shook my head no felt very stupid for a moment but it was quickly wiped away when new hope arose in my chest.

Before I could begin, something red caught my eye and I walked closer to the couch were the item was fully visible. It was a rucksack and my eyes widened in recognition. It was his!

I grabbed it and held it up for Libby to see. "Look - his bag! Why would he leave without it? He's still -" I paused and did what I previously intended to do. I caught his scent and my wolf howled in joy. "He's still here, it's faint but he's close by! If we just look -"

Libby interrupted me with wave of her hand, and when I tried to ask, she just shook her head and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. I was too surprised to even utter a word and she must have felt my hurt, as guilt shone through our bond and in her eyes as she re-opened them.

"No. You're probably right, he's coming back or he hadn't left his bag. But you need to think of him now, and how he feels. Don't let your instinct rule you now or you'll risk losing him."

My wolf whined and I was about to protest when she added, "This is all new to him so give him his space, he hasn't even met you. So don't frighten him of just yet."

My wolf liked none of this, but she spoke the truth and I pushed him away. I needed to think as me and not with my animal urges to protect what's mine. He wasn't even mine.

"You're right. I'm sorry for acting so..." I drew out as I scratched the back of my head. She shook her head and took my hand in hers, smiling up at me. "It's alright. I understand. You do the right thing in the end and that what's counts."

"But if he isn't back at lunch, we'll search!"

I agreed without words and smiled at my wife. I love her, I really do so I gave her a quick peak before we with joined hands walked to the kitchen.

"Breakfast?"

"Breakfast," she confirmed.

We started working on it, but a quick glance at the clock left me gasping with chock. "It's nine o'clock in the morning?"

It came out like a question even though it wasn't. Because it was nine o'clock. It was a fact, a true statement. Libby looked at me with surprise. "That's strange. You've never once slept past 7 since..." She paused while staring at the clock before reverting her gaze back at me. "...never"

I nodded. She was right.

"No idea why?" I then asked, noticing the quirk of her lips and the sudden relaxed attire.

"Maybe," she said slowly and winked.

"I'll wake up the kids so you can continue!" She then said, and skipped out of the kitchen to wake the kids. But it's not even the right words to call then that anymore.

More like hormonal teenagers and one kid.

A/N: This chapter was such a pain in the ass to write! I hate writing in Mark's Point of view, espacially since he's supposed to be 40 something. Shouldn've done it in 3rd point of view instead but I'm to lazy to rewrite it all! Sorry for this major cringy, short and bad chapter, but I needed it to move things along...