Love Wins (lgbtq+)

Chapter 1

Dawn

It's the way he says my name. As if he feels something for me. His eyes trying to capture mine while they flit from their joined hands to her swollen belly filled with his pup.

My palms go absently to mine. I'll never get that, not from him, not from any other male. I envy her, seems I've been envying her since the day I turned sixteen and found out that her chosen mate is my destined mate.

His scent, so tantalizing to my senses, fills the air and it is all I can smell since setting foot on his territory again. I wish I could lose my sense of smell forever if it means that his scent can never fill my nostrils again.

"Celena has already informed me of my duties. I bid you both a good day." I say quickly tearing my eyes away from them. The sight they made joined innocently by their fingers make me nauseous.

"I can help you with your things." Harlem, King of the Eastern Territory says softly making my stomach flutter but I beat down the emotions like I always do for the past eight years and I can see the subtle tightening of her fingers around his. That nauseated feeling increases when he tightens his fingers around hers.

I tear my eyes away from their touch and swallowing hard I straighten my spine and lift my head. "I'm a big boy now, King Harlem. I can take care of myself." his name tingles my tongue but I ignore it, the need to repeat his name over and over like my favorite prayer.

"Queen Kerissa, may the moon continue to shine down on you and your unborn." I bow to her despite my internal hissing of never bowing to such a vile creature. I silence my siren and carry my duffel over my shoulder to the cottage Harlem's mother, Celena showed me earlier pretending to be blind to her pity. I can almost taste it on the wind. My inner siren wants to pound me into a pretzel for bowing to her-that fraud of a queen-but I stiffen my spine and growl inwardly toward my beast. Behave.

I disregard the stares that follow me toward that cottage on the edge of the village, their judging eyes boring into my back, my legs shaking harder with every step I take and the more whispers I hear on the wind. My knees threatening to buckle and take me down to the level they think I should be.

Was I really stupid for coming back here?

Maybe-but I could not ignore their call for me. I could not overlook their need of me in this time. I never belonged until they took my mother and I in, kept her safe in their pack even after my shame and for that I would always come when they call.

This is too much to ask of me. They know it. I know it. Yet I've come. Maybe I am that masochist Saine, my flat mate back on the bayou, accused me of being when I packed myself off to them the very next day after their call.

I take the scent of the ocean into my lungs, the crisp, salty air settling my stomach somewhat. It's a nice change from the muddy scent of the water back on the bayou. The crashing of waves call to me but I catch myself from following Her allure to the cerulean depts.

I focus instead on opening the windows and ridding the cottage of the scent of dog. Spraying and scrubbing, washing and sunning out the furniture and the beddings. In the end I couldn't get the scent out entirely of the carpets so I strip it out and make a mental note to have the floor sanded and varnished to show off the lovely shade of the cherry wood.

Putting away my clothes and making room for the ones that will arrive in the next few days I cook some rice, a smile on my lips from the aroma when I add a little butter to it. Washing, peeling and cutting up some vegetables I put them aside and make my way to Her. Finally answering Her call and she is worth the wait.