Isabel's Choice

Chapter 6 - Isabel

Place and time: same as the last chapter

As the males enter the house to start their political discussion, I need to comfort Willow, to silence her desperate howl, and stop her from making me turn my head and follow their steps with my gaze.

Not all of them, just the ones of Lars, whose icy eyes instantly changed to a deep teal blue when he held my hand, and who triggered my wolf to roll over on her back and whimper warmly and lustfully "Mate".

***

I hadn't planned to stare at him, but I did a little, shocked by my wolf's reaction.

Lars, son of Kari and Ayn, was indeed handsome, sharing in his father's savage beauty, in the strong rugged jaw, the perfectly drawn lips, the thick eyebrows that shadowed his dreamy eyes. The eyes were all his mother's doing though, sparkling with mischief, eyes that kindly invited you to open your soul and made you trust their owner instantly.

Yes, he was nice to look at and his handshake was comfortably strong, but my wolf's meltdown took me by surprise. I understood that she craved kindness, and the young Alpha heir indeed exuded it through every pore of his beautifully built body, but calling him mate just for that seemed like an exaggeration.

"He is our mate," she whined, as I moved on, to shake the hands of his brothers. They were also handsome and kind, yet Willow didn't react in any way to them.

"Mate, mate, mate," she kept barking playfully as I sat at the wooden table, trying and failing to focus on the various Land Core specialties laid out in front of us.

"You have lost your mind, wolf, I didn't feel anything when I touched him," I answered her, reaching out for some slices of the dried meat which looked absolutely delicious, dark red, and covered in a thin crust of herbs.

"You cannot feel the nascent bond," she whimpered, "you carry Owen's mark, but I don't..."

She thankfully doesn't. Smasher, Owen's wolf, is a ruthless one, bending the Goddess' teachings in whatever way fits his human's needs. His only hard line is the mate bond. He may have supported Owen in claiming my skin side, but his beast mark is reserved for his wolf mate.

Until today, I didn't realize I owe that awful creature some gratitude for his refusal to bind himself to Willow's soul.

It was surreal though to see all my expectations about how I would feel when I met my true mate corrected. As every shifter female, I had been raised with stories about how the pull feels, invisible strings drawing bodies and souls toward each other, and how senses are invaded by their unique scent. 

There was none of that between me and Lars. He smelled freshly showered, his fragrance identical to that of his brothers who probably shared the same brand of body wash. I also had no wish to get any closer to him, the six feet of the table that separated us being a perfectly acceptable distance. 

The only effect of the mate bond that was manifesting according to the books, was my wolf going completely crazy, swooning in my head about our Moon Gift.

***

"Willow, please, please calm down, we can talk about this on the way back but I need to make a good impression on this Luna. It's for our own good, it may help us to go out of the territory again." I tell her, my neck cramped with the effort of fighting her command. 

"Fine," she yields, "I will sleep now. I am not supporting your useless political efforts, but I do want you to make a good impression on the mother of our mate."

With my consciousness free, I can come back to the reality of the brunch, only to hear Ayn speak to the dark-haired female who was seated in the Beta corner, and who is now standing, walking over to join our end: