Above^^^ Fleura's eyes! Light blue and emerald green. Pretty huh?
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Dakota
The first thing that hits me is the pain. A searing burn in my side that sends me growling, shifting uncomfortably.
Cracking my eyes open, I make the quick realization that instead of being outside where I'm supposed to be, I'm inside someone's house.
Trying to get up, the pain shoots through me again, and my hand goes towards the source of the discomfort, and I encounter a bandage wrapped around my stomach. Whoever's home I'm in, they fixed me up as well...
I carefully sit up, inhaling deeply as the action pulls the damaged muscle. The scent that hits the back of my throat startles me, the sweet aroma saturating everything around me and hanging heavy in the air.
Blueberries, bananas...maple syrup...it smells like blueberry banana pancakes.....my favorite.
The fact that I smell another werewolf lets me know the scent isn't from food, but from the wolf themselves. A secondary scent of beef and vegetables makes my stomach rumble in hunger, but Zayev is more occupied with the other wolf...and so am I.
~smells like mate...go to them...~ He growls lowly, impatiently pacing around in my head.
~You and I both know that can't be right, our mate rejected us.~
A sharp pain stings in my chest, and I try to brush it off. I found my mate over a year ago, and she rejected us because I was a Gamma...and she'd rather have an Alpha. She rejected me because I wasn't ranked high enough for her standards.
Besides...that she wolf had a spicy scent...not at all like this one.
~our mate...I can tell. They are ours.~
As in...a second chance mate?
I groan as I pull up straight, the heavy quilt that's draped over my chest sliding down to reveal the bandage, a bit of blood leaking through it. I look around the room I'm in from my place on the couch, the wood paneled walls are dark, the cream colored carpet giving a rustic look. Wood furniture and a dark red recliner fill the small space, and besides the window there is only a clock on the wall. A lit, brick fireplace sits opposite of the couch, a large basket of firewood sitting in front of it.
I turn my attention back to the bandage, lifting the edge to try and see it. Bad idea. The action stings my skin, eliciting another growl.
"Fuck." I spit out irritably.
A light squeak comes from across the room, and I look up to see where it came from...and I'm met with an beautiful sight. Standing in the entrance is a young she-wolf, her wavy, ice blonde hair flowing down to her hips. The pale ivory skin of her face is flushed pink, making the the freckles that are sprinkled over her nose and across her cheekbones standout. Her soft, slightly rounded cheeks and plump lips make her look like a child rather than an adult...a real life cherub.
A lock of her blonde hair hides the right side of her face, leaving one eye covered. The uncovered eye is emerald in color, glittering brightly as she stares. Most of her short stature is hidden under a tan shawl, but her tiny hands play with her hair nervously under my gaze.
~mate...~ Zayev rumbles, and the slightest of growls reverberates in my chest.
She is truly beautiful.
"Y-you are awake..." Her soft voice barely audible, I strain my ears to hear her shy whispers. I make her nervous...that bothers me more than I expected.
"Who are you? What am I doing here?"
I try to ask in a normal voice, my usual gruff tone would probably only make her more timid. She shivers at the sound of my voice, and I can't tell if it's from fear...or something else.
"I am F-Fleura...you were hurt, so I brought you here..."
~Fleura...perfect...~
I suddenly recall the hunters I encountered as I was out on my nightly run, they were chasing after a wolf...hunting it...
"Hit her again, she's slowing down!"
"You are the wolf they were shooting at, aren't you?" Zayev growls in my head, not liking the fact she was in danger.
She nods, hesitantly stepping closer. I fight the urge to move directly in front of her, wanting to tangle my hands in her soft hair and trace over her lips...it would probably terrify her right now.
"Why did you bring me here?" I ponder out loud, considering she's this nervous around me, why would she go through all the trouble?
"You were shot with silver and you saved my life, I-I couldn't just let you die..."
So she brought me here, and mended my wounds...took care of me while I was healing. It dawns on me that she got shot too.
"But weren't you injured?"
She nods and brings a hand up to her right shoulder, no doubt where she was hit.
"It was j-just a graze, it's already healed."
Her gaze flickers towards my stomach, resting on the bandage before returning to my face. A faint smile curls my mouth at the action, and as much as I know the awful way this can end, I can't help but want to get close to her. Potential painful rejection be damned.
"You can come closer, little one, I won't bite." Not yet, and not in a way that'll hurt, anyway.
She turns from pink to red, carefully walking towards me. I can't stop the chuckle that her shy behavior brings, clearly she hasn't been in the company of male wolves very much...not that I'm complaining.
Her delicious scent becomes even more intense as she finally stands in front of the couch I'm on, sitting on the stool as she holds her hand just above my bandaged wound. Since it seems she's uncertain about touching me, I go to grab her hand, savoring the warm sparks for a split second before she jumps back in surprise.
"What-What is that?"
Her baffled expression is extremely genuine, which throws me off. Has she not heard of mates? She clearly knows the werewolf world, so how could she...unless...
I discretely inhale her scent again. The wolf is there, but the woodsy scent of a pack isn't...but neither is a rouge scent...is it possible she's a lone wolf? They're not common, but there are a few out there that were never born into a pack. Their usually called gypsy wolves, and they occasionally grow up like humans and have limited knowledge on packs and werewolves.
"Are you hurt?" I ask, inconspicuously probing.
"No-it just, felt strange...did you feel it too?"
"Yes, but it didn't hurt me either, you can check my wound now."
She bites her bottom lip, and I push back my instinct to kiss it. She takes a pair of scissors and carefully cuts the bandage away, revealing the blood stained gauze beneath, no doubt a product of my impatience. Her gentle touch on my skin takes away the pain as she redresses my wound, even when she poured peroxide on the irritated skin. She just spreads some ointment on the damaged areas before placing two large band-aids over them, which means the wounds have healed considerably.
She would make an excellent pack doctor, that is if she was part of a pack.
"Have you not been in a pack before?" I ask despite myself, and her head pops up at the question.
"No. But you are...right?"
"I am, though it's been over a year since I've been in contact with them." I admit.
"Why is that?" She asks, a small tilt of her head making her look adorable.
"I went on a search for my mate..."
"Did you find them?"
I sigh. "I did...but she rejected me..."
Her expression softens, a look of empathy in her gaze.
"I'm so sorry..."
"It's alright little one, it was a long time ago. She was just after rank anyway, and I wasn't high enough for her."
"You seem very powerful to me, she must of been completely oblivious."
I chuckle, me and Zayev both swelling with pride at the compliment. She's never been in the presence of an Alpha, or she would've been able to tell. But it doesn't take away from my pride that she thinks so highly of me.
"She wanted an Alpha, and nothing less would be good enough."
"You aren't an Alpha?"
"No my dear Fleura, I'm a Gamma, third in command."
"Oh...that's still impressive though, she must not have been smart enough to see it."
Whether she's aware of it or not, her honest praise makes me extremely happy.
"Do you have a mate Fleura?"
She shakes her head after a moment of hesitation, seeming confused as she does. I silently hope it's because she subconsciously knows I'm her mate, but is just not aware of the fact.
"I know that every wolf has one, and that they're like your other half...but I don't know much else."
I sigh in relief, thanking the goddess that she feels the mate bond, but just doesn't know what it is.
"I'm sorry. I'm rambling on and I don't even know your name."
Her shyness reappears once again, her soft blush making a quick return.
"My name is Dakota Jackson, but you can just call me Dakota."
"Alright...Dakota..."
I suppress another growl, enjoying how she says my name. She suddenly pops up from her seat, making me jump in surprise.
"Oh, my soup!"
She sprints towards what I assume is the kitchen, leaving me in the living room laughing. After a few minutes, my body reminds me I haven't moved in a couple days.
"Where is the bathroom?" I ask as I stand up, moving the quilt as I do.
"It's right down the--eeep!"
She had walked back into the living room just as I stood up, the quilt falling halfway to the floor revealing my lack of clothing. Her shocked little squeal cuts off what she was saying, and she whips back around with a red face.
"I'm sorry Fleura, I didn't mean to startle you."
She shakes her head furtively, and I bite back a chuckle.
"It's-it's okay...the bathroom is down the hall to the right..." She murmurs shyly before returning to the kitchen, no doubt still fire engine red. I turn in the direction she told me and make my way to the the small bathroom, me and Zayev a bit amused by her innocent reaction.
After relieving myself and washing my hands, I open the door to find a pair of sweatpants and boxers folded on the floor, they look brand new, and Fleura's scent is faint on the soft fabric. I duck back into the bathroom to put them on, the boxers a bit too tight while the sweatpants are a bit loose. She more than likely bought them for me, the sizes wrong because she didn't know what to get.
To be honest, I wouldn't mind walking around the house in just my birthday suit, I have no shame in my looks...but, this isn't my house, and even though the she wolf in it is my second chance mate, she has no idea that I'm all hers...so that'll have to wait until she's much more comfortable around me.
I exit the bathroom once more and make my way back through the living room before going to the tiny kitchen, seeing Fleura at the stove with her back turned to me. A large pot sits on the stove, the contents smelling delicious to my empty stomach, making it rumble noisily.
"Here you go..."
She turns slowly to hand me a bowl of what appears to be beef stew, with large chunks of beef, potatoes, carrots and small traces of onions in it. Her eyes avoid looking at me shyly, no doubt worried that I'm still undressed.
"Thank you for the clothes. And the food, it smells wonderful."
She looks up at me as I take the bowl from her, and the action draws attention to the covered side of her face. I carefully put the bowl down and reach for the lock of hair that hangs over her eye, her staring at me as she freezes. I push the lock behind her ear, the softness of the tendrils forgotten as I stare at the now exposed side of her face.
To be truthful, I don't know which is more shocking to me.
First, it's her eye itself. She has heterochromia. Her left eye is emerald green while her right is the lightest of blues. I've never seen this in werewolves, humans yes, but not werewolves. It's strange...but oddly fascinating and extremely beautiful.
And second, the faint but clearly obvious old scars that run over her right eye. The light pink noticeable against her pale complexion, the three jagged lines go from her hairline down across the eye, and curve towards her ear before stopping at the bottom of her ear.
They are definitely from a werewolf raking his claws over her face, from how deep they are and the fact that didn't disappear completely, it must have been extremely painful.
They do not mar her beauty though, but oddly make her more...mysterious and unique. But it still doesn't take away from the anger I feel for the wolf who did this to her.
"How did you get these?" I ask as I gently trace over the old injury with my thumb.
"I-I don't remember..." she murmurs, a look of slight frustration and despair on her face.
"You don't?"
She shakes her head in response.
"I don't really remember much from my time as a pup...other than my mom...I just remember that I had these before my first shift."
I tuck the rest of her hair behind her ears, absorbing the information and choosing to not ask anymore questions for now. The sadness in her eyes hurting my heart, I grab the bowl from the counter with one hand and lift her chin with the other.
"How about we eat before it gets cold?"
She smiles at me, and I return the gesture. My mind already fully consumed with her mystery.