The Found One

Chapter 16

Rowan POV

The words settled around them, Rowan kept himself from flinching, holding himself perfectly still. He had been sloppy, carless, reckless, playing with things he didn't understand or even fully accept and now it was all coming out to bite him.

What is a mate?

Well Fuck.

Looking at her, Rowan felt his wolf howl in his head. He was not happy at being held back from what he saw as his. Rowan on the other hand was less then enthused or accepting of this latest unexpected turn his life had taken.

He didn't like being at odds with the other part of himself, they were designed, meant to be in harmony, in sync, two sides of the same coin. Disharmony, conflict - it drove Werewolves mad, turned them rabid and uncontrollable.

But this? This was something his human half could not just accept. Hell it was impossible!

"What do you want to know?" He knew his voice was cold and harsh. His wolf whimpered when she flinched from it. He cringed internally, he didn't want to hurt her, everything in him screamed that he was meant to do exactly the opposite, but talking about this, with her. It was too much.

He knew his eyes flashed silver, his wolf pushing forward, the part of him sure and set on their course was pushing for control. Pushing to end the conflict and set themselves on the right course - consequences be damned.

"What are they?" Her voice gave away her nervousness.

She knows this is something she might not want to know. Fuck, how much has she figured out? How much have I said?

"A mate is a soulmate. A werewolf's soulmate." He parroted the words his mother had used so many years ago, the words that had meant so little at the time, and that would come to shatter everything he ever had been.

"A soulmate?"

He looked up, silver meeting pine green. Her hair was frazzled, golden red spilling around her shoulders, a halo of reds and golds, the small splattering of freckles over her nose more pronounced against her shallow pale complexion.

She needs to eat. To rest.

She chewed on her lower lip, teeth worrying the soft pale pinkness as she mulled over his words. He could scent her confusion, her curiosity, her fear. The sharp metallic scent of it burned his nose. He hated smelling that come from her, it made rage pour through his veins, hated even more that it was him that was causing it.

"Yes, a soulmate. Though your human version is a watered down idea of what ours is. Ours is literal. In the world there exists one-" he couldn't quite hide the crack of his voice on the word, he noticed her eyebrows raise as she caught it too. "other soul for everyone. A person destined for them and only them, their souls meant to connect, to compliment, protect, and love each other for their entire lives. Tying them in unbreakable bonds and oaths."

Tension radiated from him as he watched her digest his words, he knew he was being vague, evasive, brisk. He wanted – no, he needed her to drop this. To leave it alone. His mind begged her not to ask the question he could see in her eyes. The one that would engulf them in its destruction.

He watched her swallow, her tongue darting out to lick her chapped lips. His fists clenched, his whole being willing her to drop it, to ignore it, to walk away.

But that wasn't Izzy. The words left her mouth, and Rowan felt his heart plummet.

"Do you have a mate?"