“Wha…” I swallow, trying to gather my thoughts that are getting more tangled with every revelation. I want to avoid repeating anything silly or offensive again. Even though I’m feeling anything but, I try to maintain a calm tone in my voice. “Marcellus, what do you mean? How can you ask what a mate mark is? How do you not know what a mate mark is? I know you have one...” Have I been assuming my whole life the things I’ve been taught are just common knowledge? Or is this a case of grave injustice on Marcellus’ behalf?
He brings both hands up with his palms facing the sky and shrugs before saying, “I’ve never heard of it. Are they supposed to be common?” The absurdity of that question, of him not knowing what a mate mark is, has my mind digging up the story my parents used to tell me about the prince who had been tricked.
Oh, no... no, no, no… This can’t be a trick. Right?
The thought of some nefarious trickery never occurred to me until now, causing momentary panic to well up inside me. With the way Marcellus isn’t aware of what is going on in his own life, much less what a mark means… I run through all the possibilities for how the mark could be faked, and reject each one as an impossibility. Finally, I conclude there has been no opportunity to fake the mark.
Searching within myself, I choose to be honest. I do not require the mark to prove we’re mates. I know the truth with every lingering glance, with every grazing touch. Marcellus ignites a passion within me that no other has come close to creating. My connection to him is only beginning, and I adore every moment spent with him, learning each new detail about him. It might not be love yet, but the potential is strong. Things between us have become easier since we’ve been spending time alone. We can’t help but want to touch each other when we’re near. There’s no faking those desires.
My mark has also never been seen by anyone other than my family, so there's no way it could’ve been faked. My mind finishes spiraling through all the dreadful thoughts jumping out at me. Ok good... I’m pretty certain this isn’t being faked. Whew. So how should I go about answering his question? Should I give him the whole history on mate marks or just show him mine?
“Do you mind giving me your left arm?” I scoot back toward Marcellus, so we’re sitting side by side again. He lifts the arm between us with a questioning frown. My left hand grabs his wrist and using my right hand, I push the sleeve of his shirt up to his elbow. I gently rotate his arm so his forearm is facing upward.
Before us is an exact copy of the mate mark gracing my own left forearm. I realize belatedly I should’ve asked to see his mark from the very beginning. Sure I was shown a parchment with the mark magically transferred, but it was foolish of me not to verify it myself. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to ask Marcellus to see his mark. Relief fills me upon seeing his mark matches mine. The pressure in my chest lightens, for I truly didn’t want this to turn out to be a lie.
Just to double check things, I ask my magic to wipe out any spells related to the mark. When nothing happens, I breathe out a sigh of relief. It hasn’t been tampered with. Which means his mark is real. He’s unquestionably my mate. But if it wasn’tmagicallytampered with… what if it was altered in another way?
I reach my fingers out and lightly trace the hexagon outlining the mark on his arm. As I touch it, a warmth spreads through my body, causing us both to suck in a breath at the same time. The warmth is like the most perfect hug enveloping me, comforting and exactly what I need right now. Any doubts I just had are wiped away, and I almost experience a pang of guilt over having any doubts. “This is a mate mark,” I whisper. “The Fates gift them when you and your mate are ready to find each other.”
“The Fates most certainly didnotgive me this mark,” Marcellus tells me. An expression of disgust distorts his features. At what, I’m not entirely sure. “This mark is a result of an accident with my uncle. I was helping him with a spell, when he accidentally spilled his concoction on my arm. This mark showed up right afterward. It must be some kind of burn from the mixture.” He must be in denial because I’m not aware of any burns that appear as a perfectly formed image.
My thoughts are working to piece together all the things he’s said since we’ve met and how his uncle has been acting. I know the mark isn’t magically tampered with, I just checked, but is it possible to make a mark appear before it should? It would help explain why I’ve felt so resistant to the idea since I found out. Our marks are only supposed to appear when we’re ready to find our soulmate, and I haven’t been the most welcoming in letting him into my heart. I don't know what to say yet, so I just push up the sleeve on my left arm and show him my own mark.
Marcellus inspects my arm as I hold it out in front of him. He doesn’t move for a moment and then gently grips my arm in place with both hands as if he’s worried I might pull it away suddenly. He traces the outline of my mark with one finger and the same heat as before spreads within my body again, just like it had when I touched his mark. I wonder if he feels the same heat coursing through his body when we touch each other’s mark. Does he get that same tingling pull that draws me ever closer to him?
After a moment, he brings his arm up next to mine to compare the marks side by side. Braided threads of a vine in the shape of a hexagon make up the border of the mark. In the center is a beautifully designed hourglass, but instead of it standing up, it’s laying sideways. As if the measure of time has come to a standstill. Each time I gaze upon my mark, my intuition leads me to believe it’s not yet complete. Almost as if something is missing. “Marcellus, I’m not sure why you weren’t taught about mate marks, and I’m not sure about how or why yours appeared, but I promise you I’m telling you the truth. The Fates gave us these marks to symbolize that our souls are a perfect match.”
He glances up at me and just stares into my eyes. A lost expression crosses over his face. I think I may have just changed his entire world. “I must admit, I’ve been experiencing a strong pull toward you, one I’m unable to explain. My heart and mind feel like they’ve been at war with each other. But knowing you’re a Royal who believes in the Fates really makes it hard for me to trust what you’re saying. I suppose sharing my shifting secret with you is me trying to work on trusting you...”
Marcellus sighs and closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again. “It’s almost time for their nightly ritual of prayer. Let’s shift and see what we can help them with.” The smile on his face feels forced, and his voice sounds strained. He leans over and kisses me on the forehead and immediately shifts before starting down the hill, expecting me to follow him.
A pressure builds in my chest, like all the air has been forced out of my body. Kind of like that one time during a training session when my father shifted into a bear and ran full force into me. My body flew into the air, and I fell on my back when I landed. I keep telling myself to take a breath, but I can’t. My chest burns with the pain. All I can do is blink.
Is my mate rejecting me? Because that’s what it feels like right now. Too many emotions are welling up inside me, swirling around like a tornado. Everything is whipping around in my mind so fast I find it hard to focus on any of my thoughts. It’s all too much. I’m overwhelmed.
Oh Fates! What is going on here? I need help understanding why everything feels like it’s falling apart.Shaking my head, I try to clear it enough to decide how to handle this situation. I catch sight of a group of Indians making their way up the hill Marcellus pointed to; what feels like a lifetime ago.
There was so much excitement in my heart when he described this moment to me, and I began to dream about participating. Now I just wish I could be left alone to think things through, and process what I've learned. Unable to have what I want right now, I just need to try and enjoy as much of the experience as I can.
My magic takes hold and I jump over the rocks we had been sitting behind, my body having already shifted into my wolf form. I wanted to enjoy this experience while in my fox form, but I need the strength my wolf brings to me right now.
Chapter 12
Alex
Present
Ican’t remember ever waking from a nightmare of that magnitude. My heart is racing, and my panic has carried over into consciousness. I didn't even make the decision to shift back to my human form, but here I sit on the chilly rock floor with nothing on. I need to gaze upon my Sleeping Snow, but I’m terrified at what I’ll find when I do.
I draw my knees up and place my elbows on them so I can rest my head on my hands while trying to get my breathing under control. Just a few deep breaths and I’ll be ready to peer over at her. Every painful inhale makes my chest clench as if I’m breathing in glass. I feel cut beyond repair. There’s a desperate need within me to find something to replace the vision that keeps replaying over and over in my head. My mind tries to picture her awake and smiling at me. I wonder what her laughter will sound like, or if she’ll be accepting of what I am.
Shit… I haven’t even met my girl yet, but I’m already imagining a life with her. This isn’t good because when I think back to the nightmare, to the fact that she could’ve been taken from me before I even found her… The fact that she was tested on against her will as some kind of messed up science experiment… Thinking about it brings equal parts fear and anger. An insatiable need fills me to constantly be near her, to touch her whenever possible.This is crazy, what am I even thinking?!
With one more deep breath, I turn toward her and crawl closer. I keep my eyes on the ground, unable to glance at her quite yet. Marcus moves in my peripheral vision. Shit… I hope he doesn’t act like an ass like he was last night. I desperately need a moment with her. I gaze up at him, and he gives me a nod as if he knows what I’m thinking. Knowing he won’t interfere, I finally gather my nerve to inspect her. My stomach is turning, and I swallow down the bile inching its way up.
She looks just as perfect as the first time I laid my eyes on her. She’s so gorgeous my breath catches for an entirely different reason than because of my nightmare. I scan her body, still terrified I’ll see her chest splayed open with her heart missing. But it’s fully intact.Thank the Fates.
I raise a shaking hand to touch her face, but it just hovers over her cheek. I’m worried that as soon as I touch her, she’ll morph into the dream version. Taking in another deep breath, I place my hand on the side of her face. Her smooth skin feels like silk, and I can’t help but rub my thumb along her cheekbone. Bringing up my other hand to cradle her head, I bend down and place my forehead on hers and close my eyes.
