Isabel's Choice

Chapter 44 - Isabel

When Lars sees me, his pupils dilate with wild hunger. The blossoms in my crown remain the only guardians of the blue.

"You are beautiful," his thoughts praise me as his mouth is busy asking mine to part for him, "You are the most beautiful and I missed you."

I don't have time to marvel at how handsome he looks in his black suit, his shirt unbuttoned to reveal the amber pendant he never took off since I gave it to him. How pretty his lips are, flushed with excitement, how deliciously hot his now longer curls are framing rugged cheeks.

His kiss descends towards my shoulder and I feel the sharp tip of canines indenting skin. I have a deep desire to help them in their path, pressing my hand only slightly stronger on the back of his neck.

„You have invited all those people to watch you get his mark!" My wolf smirks, her irony restoring the reasonable and practical train of thought.

I step quickly away from my mate because if I don't do it quickly, I won't do it at all, and I pull him carelessly behind me. Over my shoulder, I exchange with him a glance full of promises and we run as fast as our human legs can carry us to the little square by the river where we hold all gatherings.

The whole pack hums appreciatively when Lars carves a nice slice from the bison's belly. The wolves are proud of their Alpha's feat, but there is more than that in their eyes. There is trust and love for their leader, who held and grew their minds firmly and kindly since he arrived at the Southern River Border.

Lars sears the meat in the fire his godfather Lex has offered for our bond and feeds me the first bite from his hand. It's delicious but it's hard to remove my lips from his fingers, my skin craving contact with his. But I have to because Willow needs to fawn over her mate's gift, using my human body to thank him with satisfied grunts. 

I sense through our wolves' bond how Lightning puffs himself up at her compliments. This Alpha has a steel core, but when it comes to my wolf he turns into a silly pup. So I am not surprised at the ridiculously proud howl that shakes Lars's chest after I place a small piece of steak in his mouth.

Ayn then steps forwards, together with her side-kick. After she charmed the lovely crown I am wearing, Lars's mom reopened the subject of the blessing, telling me who her alternative proposal was, and asking if she could still join. I thought that would be a great idea.

Her partner is a black wolf, whose fur is streaked with gray. Wolves don't usually show signs of age, but this one does because she is ancient, forgotten by death in her little cabin close to the marshes. She shifts slowly next to the witch, leaning onto her arm for support.

"Grandma Hanne?" Astrid exclaims in shock.

"Yes, Astrid, I am still alive," the old wolf hisses at her while donning the cape Ayn is offering her. "I am invited to my great-granddaughter's ceremony by a witch. Do you think that's appropriate?"

I would feel bad for my mother if she wouldn't look hilariously embarrassed, hands twiddling awkwardly in front of her.

"I thought...since Lars challenged your..."

"My blood? I think we can agree that piece-of-shit Alpha-made was bad blood," her granny spits, "And also, you of all people should know I value soul over blood! That's also why I shamed Kari over there to seal his bond with a witch when his own father was trying to get him to reject her. You're still welcome, Counselor," Hanne throws in Kari's direction. He nods approvingly and mutters a silent thank you, while mercifully pulling Astrid away from the path of the old shewolf's anger.

"Thank you for this...intense introduction," Ayn grins, tugging at the crone's arm and directing her to turn her towards Lars and me.

"I chose to bless your bond with Hanne by my side, to compensate for my lack of wolf," the witch chuckles, "and because, in a way, she is the reason you are both here."