AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I can think about what is coming, and that means I know we will be reunited.
True mates are arranged by The Fates. There is nothing that can stop us from becoming her mates.
That knowledge is enough for me.
I try to impart it on Fox, but he waves off my hisses and then props himself up on his elbows.
“I know all the fated mate stuff. Scar used to bleat on about it as if he was an expert.”
He sighs, looking up at the permanently dark grey sky above us.
“What if he’s wrong, Snake? What if that was our one chance to claim her?”
I am lost for words.Scar is never wrong. He is our leader. He lived in the shifter world before he was exiled. He taught us everything we know. How could he be wrong?
Fox turns his green eyes on me, and I shrug soundlessly.
He groans. “I feel like I’ve been stabbed through the heart.”
I look up to see Scratch stepping through the portal.
“Stop being so dramatic,” Scratch says, dropping a bundle of cooked meats wrapped in a sack in front of us. “You are not dying.”
“How would you know?” Fox grumbles, his whiskers twitching.
He can smell the meat as well as I can.
It is not my favorite thing to eat, but I am hungry.
Scratch sits down opposite us, opening the bag.
Fox sits up but pretends not to care about the food.
“Eat,” Scratch says, handing me one of the cooked bundles.
I take it, hissing my thanks.
He holds one out to Fox. “Eat.”
“I’ll eat when I know our mate still wants to claim us,” Fox tells him, folding his arms.
Scratch looks at me, as if I might be able to snap our brother out of his funk.
He knows as well as I do that Fox is best left to get out of it on his own.
It may mean he acts like this for hours, or days, but not much can affect him when he decides he is upset. Though, perhaps this time, there is something …
I make him aware that it would be best to keep our strength up for the inevitable bedroom activities that will occur once our mate returns to us.
Scratch frowns and winces as I communicate this to my more receptive brother.
I am guessing that the reason Fox understands me so well is that he is a feline and is able to hear on different frequencies than my wolf brothers. They have learned what some of my more obvious hisses mean, but even Scar can barely tolerate a longer conversation, and he tries much harder than Scratch does. That is because Scratch does not think I understand much of anything.
I do not care what he thinks, but I would like Fox to eat because he will become unbearably dramatic later if he does not have some sustenance now.
Fox looks at me. “Are you done?”
Perhaps I was not convincing enough. He does not seem motivated by the thought of claiming our mate. I shrug and hiss a much shorter threat at him before I begin to eat my own dinner.
