She clasps her hands together and brings them up to her mouth, grinning. “Carina sounds like yournîkâkîstis.”
The Old Language, but a term unfamiliar to my ears.
“Your father didn’t want to tell you until it happened, in case it never did. He didn’t want you searching for something that isn’t there or missing out on chances to create your own happiness.”
“Tell me what?” My stomach may as well be weighed down by rocks in the bottom of a stream.
“Nîkâkîstistranslates toheart of my wolf.” Marissa pauses, gauging my reaction. “She’s your mate, Ryder. Chosen and fated by the powers of nature, specifically selected for you.”
Mate.
Both my wolf and thoughts link together—recognize—and everything clicks into place.
The woman in my cabin—my mate—who has the intense draw, urging me to return to her. To bundle her up and keep her safe, everyone else be damned. The image erases every necessity for water, food, and rest—unless it’s providing those thingsfor her. It’s a compulsion to care for her, to give her everything she’ll ever desire or need. Everything I’ve been feeling since this morning now has a name, a definition my body knows isright. My wolf howls to be released, to greet his chosen. To mark her, claim her, and explain the new reason she’s stuck here: to be mine.
But the man I am reminds myself of reality and the shred of logic that my mind clings to, which doesn’t at all believe what Marissa is saying—nor does it care. Dad and the pack come first. Carina Hargrove isn’t andcan’tbe a wolf’s mate, because it makes zero sense. She’s a witch, and therefore it’d be impossible for her to be “the best” for a shifter.
My mouth opens and closes a handful of times, the broken thoughts racing and unable to be verbalized, but thankfully, Marissa takes pity on me.
“They’re quite rare amongst shifters, but almost every male in your bloodline has been gifted one. When it happens, only the Alpha and elders are told, protecting the couple even within the pack. The others are told it’s a chosen connection.”
If every male in my family has a fated mate, then Mom was Dad’s. And Dad was wrecked after her death a couple years back.
“Why us?”
“No one knows.” Her hands lower to her chest. “Your father never said anything in case you found someone sooner. Besides, while statistically there was a high probability in it, nothing’s a guarantee, so he tried to save the heartache and instincts that’ddrive you to search. Now knowing who she is, that hunt could have taken years, driving you insane.”
It makes sense, and I should be pissed at him, but I’m more pissed athowthis was discovered. Out of every female on the planet, it has to beher? Not merely a witch, buttheone I have to hand to a coven of insane witches?
Fate, you’re an asshole.
“Nature doesn’t pick our mates,” I argue, already sensing no matter what, reality won’t change.
Shifters choose who to claim based on compatibility, interest, and attraction, similar to humans’ mating rituals. It happens within a pack, but often out of it too, encouraging mixed bloodlines across the continent.
“No,” she agrees in a considering tone. “But it does happen on occasion.”
“This sounds made-up. What if never met Carina?”
Marissa shrugs, glancing again at my cabin. “I believe whatever decides who’ll be anîkâkîstismate is the very force that’ll ensure the two get brought together. This is everything your mother was for your father, so believe me when I say, it isn’t made-up. A love like theirs—that bond…it’s special.” After a sad smile at Dad’s cabin, worry replaces wistfulness. “When a male loses hisnîkâkîstismate, their body slowly fades away. It’s why your father has aged so considerably within the last couple years since her passing. He isn’t well, Ryder, and it’s why the magick has been affecting him so much.”
Somehow, I always knew Mom’s passing affected Dad more than losing a mate should have. Wolves often fall into a deep depression when the Otherworld tears a couple apart, but Dad’s reactions seemed worse. Like it was a physical ache on top of the emotional one, and being Alpha was the only reason he continued.
What happens to me when Carina goes with the coven?
If only I could despise her for being alive. I wish I could storm my cabin and tie her outside instead and leave her out in the cold and keep her the hell away from me. Wish I could see her as the witch who cursed Dad and lump anyone from the same species together.
But I don’t hate her. And now, I can’t.
“Why have I never heard of this before?” I ask, if only to continue distracting myself.
“There are stories of other bloodlines having them too, but they’re harder to come by. You know how males are about mates?—”
Protective and possessive.
“—so, imagine someone handpicked by nature. You’d do anything to protect them, including not announcing it to others, especially those outside your pack.”
I don’t have to imagine because apparently, I have one.
