His Mate, Her Fate

Chapter 7: Meeting The Carters



I lower my head as I pull the hand brake and close my eyes, just for a second. The moment I do, Ian’s hurtful face flashes in my mind.

“I kissed him,” I shut my eyes in shame.

He stared at me in shock and disbelief. Then his face turned into anger and disgust.

“Who are you?” he shook his head. “My Lily never would’ve done that.”

I bursted into tears. “I fucked up, Ian,” I shook my head, sobbing. “I ruined everything and now… I can never fix it.”

“Lily,” he tightened his jaw, but his anger went down a notch. “I’m not going to end a five-year relationship because of a kiss. I mean… I assume it happened only because you were,” he does ‘apostrophes’  with his hands, “mates or whatever.”

Oh my God. His comment only made it worse.

“It did happen only because of it,” I sob. “But it ain’t that easy…”

“What do you mean?” he demanded.

“God, how do I say this?” I shook my head. “I wish I could bring back the time, Ian.”

He stared at me intently. “You wouldn’t have kissed him if you had another chance?”

I whimpered, shaking my head. “That’s not what I mean. If I brought the time back, we never would’ve gone there in the first place.”

He looked at me as if finally understanding what I meant – this couldn’t be undone.

“Aaaargh!” I hit the steering wheel out of frustration, then open the car door.

For some strange reason, though, the instant I entered the Carter territory my anxiety went a notch down. That has to count for something, right?

It is happening, my inner wolf tells me.

I know. Nothing will ever be the same.

Well, that isn’t necessarily a bad thing, she reassures me, but even she is doubtful.

A dark muscular figure marches towards me in a menacing way.

I know it isn’t my mate, because I would already be dizzy from his irresistible scent.

I shut the door and lean onto it, waiting for him to approach – I’m not afraid.

Not of him, at least.

He crosses his arms when he does, then watches me with squinted dark eyes, as if inspecting me.

It irritates me.

“Do you speak, boy?” I lean my leg onto the car.

The comment shocks him. He unlocks his hands slowly, thinking of something to say.

I decide to continue, as I am enjoying his new face expression. “Or are you simply here to help me with my bags?”

I know he isn’t as I came unannounced, but still… I can have some fun.

He quickly re-establishes his position, taking a powerful stand with hands placed on his hips. “This is Carter territory. What business do you have here?” His voice is somewhat pleasant, but the tone of it definitely threatening.

I let a smile slip me. “That is no way to speak to your Luna, boy.”

I don’t know why I keep calling him boy, since he is obviously my age or older, but the word keeps escaping my mouth.

He frowns in preparation to respond rudely, then a thought crosses his mind. I can see it by his face expressions. “Luna?” he asks with no undertone, careful not to sound offensive, yet still unsure whether he should show obedience. “Are you Miss King, the Alpha’s mate?”

“You can call me Lila. Makes me feel younger,” I sway my hair back and start walking towards the large house in front of us, then turn shortly back to him. “Oh and the bags are in the trunk,” I wink and laugh on the inside.

The house looks very much alike to what I thought it would be. A three story villa, some 400 square meters in size, made out of stone and marble of a greyish color. Not attractive at all. It looks cold and inhabitable. Like most Alpha houses. I very much prefer regular werewolves homes. They’re mostly small houses made out of wood and you feel warm and cozy just by looking at them. On the inside, though, they’re even more spectacular. I know because I used to live in one.

As I approach the entrance, two other men block my way.

I constrain myself not to be rude. It’s their job to be aggressive toward strangers on their land.

“It’s okay, she’s Darius’ mate,” the guy from before shouts behind me. I turn and see he is indeed carrying my luggage.

I give him a respectful nod.

The other two step aside, greeting me. “Hello, Luna.”

It seems like they suspected I would be coming. Darius must have told them.

“Please enter, Lila,” the luggage guy tells me. “Darius isn’t here, so I’ll call someone to show you around,” he says swiftly and before he can disappear I grab his arm.

“What’s your name?” I ask politely.

“Terry.”

I nod. “Thanks, Terry.”

“No problem,” he smiles before disappearing someplace.

I look around the living room. It is a large room with massy furniture and not many decorations. It oozes chill and lacks comfort. No wonder they placed a fireplace on the wall, but even that failed in giving this place warmth.

“Lila, it is so nice to meet you!”

I turn to find a short chubby woman with the most charming smile and the warmest eyes, cleaning hands against her apron.

I smile showing my teeth and take my hand out, as she approaches me. However, she lightly squeezes my hand, then shoves it away and pulls me into a welcoming hug.

I am left speechless as I clumsily try to return the hugging favor. The gesture actually feels good. I guess I needed some reassurance. I relax in the lady’s warm arms, even closing my eyes and breathing in the smell of nice food that evaporates off her.

“Nice to meet you as well, Mrs…” I say as she loosens her grip.

She laughs. “Carter,” as if it was obvious. “But don’t you dare call me that,” she points her finger at me. “It’s Debra for you.”

I am shocked to realize the woman in front of me is my mate’s mother. They look nothing alike. She is so warm and inviting, while he is…

I remind myself not to be judgmental. Maybe Darius isn’t that bad if this is his mother. She must have taught him some values. Plus, the lady obviously still does her own cooking, regardless of her position in the pack. With that, she earns my respect already.

“Sure,” I reply shyly, suddenly embarrassed by my previous exhibit of position toward Terry and the guards. Hopefully they won’t talk badly of me in front of Debra. My stupid play was only meant for Darius to see. I don’t really know why, but probably it has something to do with me wanting him to think I am not afraid. “You can call me Lily if you’d like,” I add.

She squints funnily. “Would you like me to call you that?”

My cheeks burn up. “I actually hate that nickname.”

She laughs. “I figured it by the way you said it. Look at those lovely cheeks,” she pinches them, smiling. “Isn’t she lovely, Terry?”

Terry laughs, biting on an apple.

Even though most people hate someone pinching their cheeks, it actually makes me feel nice.

“Let’s show you to your room first, in case you need to freshen up.” She turns to Terry. “C’mon, son. Bring that bag upstairs for our dear Lila.”

My eyes widen in shock. Terry…

Our gazes meet and he winks at me, containing laughter.

I suddenly feel like laughing myself. Well, at least I showed Terry what I’m made of.


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