The remainder of the shopping trip was more tense and quiet. Stone kept his distance from the girls, balling his hands into fists and shoving them as deep as he could in the pockets of his leather jacket without ripping the material.
He didn't even need the jacket; he just liked the smell of it and the groaning noises it made when he moved. If humans had done one thing right in the fashion industry, it was leather jackets. He liked them even more than fur coats, which brought his wolf out too easily, looking for a snack or a new toy to play with.
He closed his mind off completely, allowing his thoughts to circulate undisturbed within the deep crevices of his mind. He only opened it once when he felt his beta, Alistair, pressing against his wall to give him an update on the border.
Gwen left him alone after giving him a good mental scolding. He was thankful for the peace of mind. Not having her in his head enabled him to think more clearly about what had happened.
The way he saw it, he had every right to react the way he did. It was to protect and defend Aubree. Whether she was aware of it or not, they shared a special connection. A matebond: the most sacred thing to lycans. She couldn't possibly understand, he knew, but that didn't make her his, and it profoundly frustrated him. He hated walking on eggshells around her. He struggled to reign in the urge to mark her, to claim her. It was out of the question, he knew.
It would only destroy her...
He wished she understood and he wanted to explain, but damn his luck! She was already claimed by another male—a male of her own species, naturally.
It was wrong for him to want her. Wrong for him to need her. Wrong for him to crave every inch of her body, mind, and soul like he had with Adelaide.
How could he chase after another while his beloved soulmate was dead?
That made him feel even more like a monster than the humans thought him to be.
A lycan could only have one soulmate in his lifetime. And his was gone.
Yet, somehow, there she was. The scent was identical. The touch of her skin, sparking like electricity, matched the sensation of the matebond. His soul yearned to be near her, drove him toward her, and as much as he wanted to fight it and back off, it was a struggle to win.
And he hated to lose.
He hated that she was human, a weak, pathetic, little mortal, whose life was short compared to his. Her strength was limited to nothing, her speed and endurance were laughable, and her six—no, five—senses notwithstanding.
She would never be able to survive in a world like his. It was far too risky and far too dangerous for such a delicate rose. She would wilt, wither, and bruise before dying a slow and painful death.
He couldn't bear the thought of that.
He liked her courage, her feisty attitude, and most importantly, the way she responded to him.
The matebond was strong, so strong that she couldn't fight it. He knew she wanted to. He could see the conflict in her eyes, smell the fear on her skin, and feel her soul calling to him so intensely it rendered her incapable of breathing.
But she was a human, claimed by another pitiful human, and it sickened him.
He would destroy her if he claimed her as his, and he couldn't do that to her. She deserved a happy and fulfilled life, and he couldn't risk destroying that, no matter how strong the matebond was.
That was why she had to leave. Not only because of the vampire threat but because he, himself, would be a threat to her life.
After dropping Aubree off at her apartment and returning to the pack house in the forest outside of town, only then did Gwen attempt to talk with him.
YOU ARE READING
Heart of Stone (Parts I & II)
Werewolf[COMPLETE] Some bonds can't be broken, even in death. -- He couldn't endure another heartbreak. "Accepting her would be a mistake," he said. "She's a human. I can't afford to have her blood on my hands." Gwen looked away, and he knew she saw the ima...
