He Chose Her

Part 1

"Happy Birthday",  the card on my kitchen table read. It certainly wasn't the best greeting, but I could tell it was the most heartfelt gesture my parents could muster on my eighteenth birthday. But I didn't care; today was the day I would find my mate.

I heard a coarse rendition of "Happy Birthday" behind me, slightly out of tune but still making me swoon. "Sorry I'm late, Evie." My best friend, Daniel, said as he rushed into the kitchen, kissing me on the cheek in the process. My skin tingled in the spot where his soft lips had just been, and I couldn't help but stare deeply into his eyes. 

A course of electricity flowed from the top of my head to the very ends of my toes, but it didn't hurt or shock me; it was this deep feeling, a sense of fulfilment as my soul connected to his. I struggled to force out words, but I knew at this moment that he was my mate.

Though he couldn't recognise that I was his mate, which is different from what people read about in most werewolf stories. Females have to tell their mates of their connection because men cannot recognise it themselves. I remembered it from the stories we'd tell each other as children: some goddess cursed a human mortal for his wrongdoing, forcing him to live out his days as a werewolf. He was to be devastated with a feeling of hollowness until his female counterpart found him — that was just one version of the legend anyways.

But as I stared into Daniel's piercing eyes, I knew deep down that I wouldn't be able to tell him I was his mate — as much as I wanted to. He was in love already with a girl that wasn't me.

After all the emotions that engulfed me as I touched him, it hurt me to think of a world without him: I envisioned us running around, chasing our children as the rest of our pack watched in pure admiration. He'd come back from training and I'd be there, peppering his face with kisses because of how much I missed him. On sunny days, we'd lay on the grass, legs intertwined, my head nestled into the crook of his neck as we watched the world go by together.

 But I knew I would have to make a sacrifice. He's happy, I justified in my head. No, Eve. It shouldn't be that way. He'll love us. There has to be some way to figure it all out. My wolf said to me. This inner voice, the one that has been by my side for years, yearned for her mate. 

Daniel stared at me in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed and lips twisted into a frown. "Evelyn, what's wrong?" he asked. My knees felt weak.

"Daniel," I croaked out, he looked at me. "Can I ask you a question?" He nodded as if telling me to continue, "If you had to pick between Martha and me, who would you pick?" I knew it was a difficult question, for him and for me. I was his best friend, who he loves, but he also loves Martha in a very different way. What he answered could also break my heart or make me the happiest woman alive, but I knew the odds weren't really in my favour.

"Look, Evie," He said sheepishly while scratching the back of his neck. "You're my best friend, but I love Martha, okay? Love tops everything. I would expect you to love your mate much more than you care for me." He let out a sigh of air, then added, "No hard feelings, right?" I nodded and tried to fight back the tears. I couldn't say I was surprised by his answer, but deep down, something inside me thought he had to know; he had to pick me.

"Of course," I answered curtly. "Love comes first, no matter what." I could see his eyes shifted to avert mine, he was uncomfortable — well, I was too but that didn't seem to mask the heavy weight I felt on my chest.