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Chapter 33
Chapter 33
“And you hit your mate?” he asked.
Margaret crossed her arms and stood proudly, “He had it coming, that cocky bastard.”
Dr. Milliken throw his head back letting out a hearty laugh. “Well most men are, de he said once
he calmed down, “But you shouldn’t be hitting your mate, if he is your mate.”
“He is not my mate,” she growled. “I have no desire for a mate. Besides- can’t be with him,” she whispered.
“And why is that?” the doctor asked with his one brow raised.
“You know why,” she muttered.
if he was my mate, I
“No, I don’t.”
Margaret glared at Dr. Milliken with daggers, “I’m dying, what kind of mate would I be if I told him
I’ll die in a few weeks.”
“I see nothing wrong with that,” Dr. Milliken stared down onto Margaret with gentle eyes. “At this moment the moon goddess has given you a gift to meet your other half, a time for to finally be
happy.”
“What are you talking about, I am happy,” Margaret laughed just to show him she was.
“But are you really?”
There was a long moment of silence between Margaret and Dr. Milliken. She didn’t have any words for him. Was she happy? Yes, she was happy. She has her brother, her writing, her books, and she couldn’t forget her best friend coffee. She was the Bate of her pack. She even became the strongest female in her pack. Not to mention she can now cross off ‘beat the King of all Wolves‘ off her bucket
list.
She was happy or was she?
“Margaret, you need your mate more than ever,” Dr. Milliken began, “Don’t let this gift go to waste. It’s time you had some real fun for once,” he smiled. The doctor turned towards the door and opened it. “And Margaret,” he said before letting himself out, “try not to kill your mate. He is our king after
Chapter 33
all,” his smile grow from ear to ear before letting out another heartfelt laugh.
“He’s not my mate,” she growled under her breath.
Margaret found herself sitting at her kitchen table, staring into her full cup of coffee that was now cold. She rubbed her thumb gently over the lip of the cup.
There could be no way that, the man upstairs, was her mate. She repeated over and over again that there was no way that she was mated to him. If so, the Moon Goddess was punishing them for their
sins.
With a deep sigh, Margaret pitied the King. She pitied him and her little brother.
“Oh man,” Ross groan, walking into the kitchen while resting a hand on his back. “Why did I have to
chop that tree?” he whined.
Margaret didn’t bother to look at her brother, “Because his highness isn’t up to do it himself and we’ll
be needing that wood for winter,” she said lazily
“You could have helped, you know. You’re the one who kicked him into the tree.“.
“I should have kicked him harder,” she glanced up at Ross with cold eyes. Eyes that could kill and Ross knew that. At least the boy was smart enough to know when to not talk back. Margaret sighed
once more when turning back to her cup.
What a mess.
“How is the King?” Ross whispered.
Margaret closed her eyes, shaking her head from left to right, “It’s a shame.”
“He died,” Ross spoke in disbelief. He made his way towards Margaret to take a seat. His face paled.
And once he sat down.
“He lives,” she said disappointedly into her cup.
“By the moon, Margaret,” Ross jumped from his seat, “What is wrong with you. He is your mate!”
“He’s not my mate,” Margaret growled, glaring at her brother. She tightened her grip around her coffee cup.
Chapter 33
“By the moon, he is. Even I feel the bond!” her brother yelled. “Why are you like this? Is he not what you expended?” He paused for an amount, then whispered, “Is it me? If so just tell me. You say all of this is for me but what about you.”
“Let it go, Ross,” Margaret muttered.
“No! Tell me what it is your hiding! We used to be so close, and then I- I killed-”
Margaret stood up so fast her chair fell to the floor with a loud bang. “Enough Ross,” she ordered.
“It was my fault that mom and dad are gone.”
“Enough!”
“Why are you punishing yourself for what I did!”
“I said enough!” Margaret yelled at the top of her lungs while taking her cup and throwing it across the room. Her cup shattered into pieces on the floor, and a steam of black coffee run down the pale–yellow colored walls.
“Margaret,” Her brother sighed. For the first time, in a long time, Margaret saw pure fear in her brother’s eyes. Those same eyes he wore on that night five years ago.
Margaret diverted her eyes away from her brother to find her nails erected. She glared at her nails, nails that belonged to her wolf, nails that she used to kill her prey. Running her tongue over her teeth, she found them to have changed as well. It took a moment for Margaret to realize that she shifted midway into her wolf in front of her brother.
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