This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
NOTE:
There is no concept of mates chosen by the Moon Goddess in this story. Werewolves are able to choose their own mates. However, the concept of having to mark and mate with your chosen mates in order to seal the deal, still stands.
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“You don’t belong here.”
“If I don’t belong here. then where do I belong?”
“Not with me,” he replied easily despite how difficult it was to utter those words, his voice not wavering as he stared at her with a hard expression. “You belong with other wolves, with a pack.”
“But you’re a wolf.”
“I’m not the kind of wolf that you need.”
“Sol,” she begged him, pleading as tears streaked down her face. “Please don’t do this.”
He ignored her, only turning around and walking out of the front door, already grabbing her suitcases which he had pulled down the stairs earlier. He walked out of the cabin which they had shared for the past few months and began loading all her bags into the back of the truck, ignoring the immense amount of pain and sorrow that he could feel radiating off of her.
After he finished, he sat in the driver’s seat and waited patiently for her to join him. When she did, her cheeks were now dry. Her puffy, red eyes were the only tell-tale that she had been crying only mere moments ago.
“I’m only doing what’s best for the both of us,” he muttered quietly, more so to reassure himself than her. But his words fell on silent ears as she didn’t even acknowledge his words, just stared ahead.
Exhaling, he twisted the key and the engine purred to life.
In a few hours, it would be back in front of the lone cabin in the woods, but this time with one less passenger.
