Mates of a Werewolf Hunter

Chapter 11 Unveiling Fate's Chains

Valentine Winters P.O.V

"I don't want to get married," I confessed to my dad.

"You will," he stated, a tone of finality in his voice.

"I'm just 16," I reasoned, feeling the weight of my youth against the impending decision.

The rearmost thing I remembered was sleeping beside Lucifer. His warm body against mine provided solace in a world turning chaotic.

Next, I found myself in the pack house with my dad, arranging a civil partnership for me. The reality hit hard, and I could only hear his cries. Paralyzed, I couldn't speak or flutter my eyes open. I felt like a statue amid an unwelcome sculpting.

It had been a couple of weeks since I last encountered Lucifer. Strangely, I missed him. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be navigating this perplexing situation.

"You haven't found your mate; that leaves you unprotected," he said, unaware that Lucifer was my mate.

It was forbidden, a stupid law that kept us apart.

"He'll be here tomorrow for a date with you," my dad informed before exiting my room, leaving no room for protest.

As the clock ticked, I grappled with the complexities of fate and desire. Tomorrow promised a date with a stranger, but my heart yearned for the forbidden warmth of Lucifer.

"I can take care of myself," I insisted, a fire burning in my eyes.

The next day, I decided to make a statement. I wore a black shirt paired with a black leather jacket, black skinny jeans, and completed the ensemble with fierce black boots. As I descended the stairs and took my place on the living room couch, my dad's disapproving stare halted him in his tracks.

"Go and wear something like a girl would wear," he dismissed me with a wave.

"Why?" I challenged, unable to see the issue with my outfit.

He rolled his eyes, and just then, the doorbell rang.

My dad opened the door to welcome a couple, probably around my parents' age, and their disinterested son. As they sat down, my mom was in the kitchen, passionately preparing a delicious meal.

"Go have some chat," the boy's mom suggested, pushing him towards me. He shot his mom a disapproving glance before reluctantly joining me.

We walked out of the house, and I couldn't hold back my frustration. "I don't agree to this arrangement," I started.

"Touché, I wanted to wait for my mate," he confessed, interrupting me.

"Then why did you agree to it?" I questioned, genuinely puzzled.

"Parents," he sighed, as if that explained everything.

"Same. What could we do?" I said, feeling a strange connection with him.

He sighed, defeated, shaking his head as if to convey there was no other choice.

"You're the girl that got kidnapped by the hunters?" He interrogated, his eyes searching for answers.

I nodded, a shiver running down my spine at the memory.

"Fishy you're alive," he observed, raising an eyebrow at me.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Lucky?"

"Or mercy?" he assumed, his eyes drilling into mine.

I gulped, wondering if luck and mercy had played any part in my survival.

"Gabriel, can I ask you something?" I inquired, trying to shift the focus.

"You already did," he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.