"It is truly a pleasure to finally meet you, Emery." The mystifying man sauntered towards me, entering the room with the echoing taps of his stiletto heels following close behind him, his walk captivating as though he was modeling a fashion runway. My curiosity intensified with each step that he took, and I found myself unable to take my eyes off of him. A nearly translucent leg displayed itself through a cut in his figure hugging dress, a noteworthy disparity to balance the coal-black fabric. And, ever so slowly,a thin hand reached out towards me, one thoroughly decorated in clearly expensive chains and precious gems, "You may call me Lyonechka, or if you wish to properly name-drop then you can refer to me using my title of Master Lyonechka. Only if you ever find yourself in a less than wonderful situation in a sewer somewhere."

An expanding aura became present in the air at his entrance, and it surged from the person to the left of me.

My hand took all the time it needed to slither into his own, and during the exact second our palms connected, the link exploded with an amiable sense of faith. I was in complete awe at the way he was able to capture my full attention in a single action. And, with my mouth embarrassingly wide open, I watched as he continued to enchant me even more with his orbs of fascinating grey. The noise that came from my mouth as a response was but a faint ghostly whisper, "The pleasure is all mine."

It felt as though I was lost in a dream. That soon another almighty God would strike me and send me flying into another tense predicament. And, thanks to you-know-who,I'm currently stuck with a permanent one for life. However, there was a detectable tell that proved he was not a God, and I declared that tell to be the rush of otherworldly power that those who witnessed their abilities were forced to endure. This was something different. This was something powerful, of course. But, there is nothing more influencing than a supreme being.

My inspection of the man was simple. Lyonechka was a handful of shades too light to be considered alive and well; merely a wannabe corpse. The general vibrancy of human skin was gone, replaced with that of a deathly sick Victorian child's complexion, practically ready to keel over and die. Lyonechka looked to be on his death bed, and maybe, just maybe, he once was. His jaw seemed to naturally jut out to highlight the sharpness of his jawline, his cheeks appearing nearly hollow as his cheekbones rested impressively high, and his enhanced eyes were shaped like a cunning fox. Everything about him screamed alluring, enticing, and tempting.

In short, I couldn't look away.

And, not out of attraction, either. Despite what Morpheus would automatically assume. There was nothing but wonder on my mind as I stared up at this peculiar man, his eyes resembling that of a storm overflowing with fog, his skin of pure velvet, and his delicate figure being one of a doll. I couldn't help myself, and a part of me felt guilty doing so, but the burning need to compare was winning by a long shot. I compared Lyonechka's features to the ones that Johnny carried, such as the extremely bright eyes that were scattered with gold specks, the lightly tanned complexion that revealed his favourite pastime of lazing around in the sun, and the heavily trained body of a hard-working beast. He was the exact opposite of Johnny.

And, the exact opposite of his presumed type. My expectations of who Johnny would end up with were way off. In my imagination, Johnny would have been paired with a man that reeked of dominance and brawn. A man who could scare you into the next century, not a man who would charm you into carrying him there.

Frankly, that is what Johnny always said his mate would be like, and that he would be the one with his mate wrapped around his finger insteadof him doing the wrapping. But, upon actually receiving one, he became the big, strong bossthat would only bow down to one. It was the open claim that wafted through the air that really sold me on this observation, as it was a dead giveaway. There was no need to study it longer, for I recognized it immediately.

I was at a loss for words, but as I glanced over to the seated Johnny, I knew the look that he was secretly giving Lyonechka when he wasn't paying attention. The newfound bond was pretty much oozing off of him. And, I knew instantly that it was meant to be.

My discovery of Johnny turning into a mini alpha male was proven.

Especially after noticing the way his chest puffed up in an effort to impress. Is that a wolf thing? Or, just popular? 'Here, look at my volumptious rib cage. Big, huh? You, uh, like what you see? I could knock someone out with a simple chest bump if needed'.

Thankfully, before my staring would be considered rude, I was pulled from my wandering mind at the sound of Lyonechka speaking to me, "Emery, if you don't mind, may I ask you something personal? I truly am not intending to pry, but how long have you been mated to the current Alpha of Pack Ventus?"

"A couple of weeks, give or take?" I glanced towards Johnny for an inkling of what the basis behind that question was, but I was presented with a shrug of uncertainty.

Lyonechka calmly leaned forward with no concern for personal space, and I scooted away from his inching face until my back reached the headboard, but he felt no shame as he openly gawked at my exposed neck. "Okay, and no mark from the looks of it," he hummedin confirmation. Then, out of nowhere, clapped his hands loudly together, "Well, I suppose we do not have much time at all."

"Why not?" I asked, feeling an irritating buzz start to vibrate just behind my eyebrows as I recovered from the loud noise jolting my body in surprise. Now, I'm more of a house cat than a travelling dog, but I can't recall even a mention of an abandoned manor. Isn't that something that would come up during casual conversation? And, I would definitely still accept it in formal conversation, so what is the excuse? Aren't there social media accounts for these types of things? "How far away are we from the town, from the pack house?"

Lyonechka stood up to his full height again, no longer crouching down to eye me up, and I could tell how he was only a handful of inches shorter than Johnny; still fairly tall at 5'11. "Oh, quite far, but for a deprived Alpha? Not far at all. His lack of physical attention will be enough to get him here in minutes."

My face grew beet red at the bold statement, the rest of my body trailing behind on the embarrassment train as my hands began twisting together, and my ears started heating up. My poorly thought of comeback only digging my hole deeper. "Well, you're not marked either by the looks of it!"

"Oh, let's make it a race then." Lyonechka smirked as he gazed over to the enamoured Johnny, "What do you think of the matter, my dearest? Would we win?"

"Depends, is the Alpha in on the deal?" Johnny joked, leaning back into his seat beside me with his arms crossed, stretching his legs in an attempt to take up more space.

"Johnny!" My hand swung out to whack at his chest as I narrowed my sight at him, how unbelievably shady, "Take it down a notch, would you?"

"It is interesting to see how werewolf mates react," Lyonechka interrupted my moment of annoyance, smoothing over the issue with a silky tone and a unique twang "Mark or no mark, I can already see the changes that the mate bond is doing to you, a young human. Ah, look, right there-" he pointed up at my eyes, resting his finger that was covered in fancy rings directly in front of my twitching nose, and I crossed my eyes to look at it, "-that spark is not that of a human, but of a wolf."

Blowing a gust of air from my mouth through the means of my puckered lips, Lyonechka moved away after demonstrating his point. I grumbled under my breath, "Who does this guy think he is, Wikipedia?"

"Wikipedia with amazing hearing," Johnny warned, watching Lyonechka's back when he began to walk out, and as he left us he shook his long mane of blackin laughter; the striking white of his prominent widow's peak hidden at that angle.

"Come now, let's make this chase a tad bit easier, shall we?" We took that as Lyonechka's official exit, as one would.

Johnny pulled the blankets off of me, giving me just enough space to throw my legs over the edge of the bed before he hesitantly stuck his hands out to me. A boyish smile formed on his face as soon as I accepted his offer, and willingly held onto his arms so that he could pull me up. Sometimes, it's the little things that matter the most.

My eyes trailed around my surroundings, noting how the only lights on were lit up with a flame, and how the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling were dripping with hot wax. My hold on Johnny's arm tightened, loosening for a moment to run the tip of my pointer finger across the top of a decorative table to feel no remnants of dirt, dust, nor grime. Strange, considering the furniture, the paintings, and everything else all appeared to be ancient. Old, but nurtured and loved.

Lyonechka led the way, but Johnny seemed to have already memorized the path as if it had always been his own home. My sweet John Doe, finally feeling solace in a house.

"Ladies first-" Lyonechka opened the two grand doors easily, the wind whirling in to pull his hair back and send a flutter down his floor-length dress. And, with a confident half twirl, he spun to face us.

I slipped past him, letting go of Johnny in the process, and quickly moved out through the front doors. Goosebumps spread over my thinly covered legs until they reached the skin of my naked arms, all because of the mighty yet soothingly fresh breeze that was blowing an absolute gale. My stance nearly crumbled. "The wind is wild."

"Nature tends to change with emotion from the right person. And, it seems that the wind is not the only thing that is wild within the forest," Lyonechka agreed, and added.

"What does that mean?" I questioned.

He happily divulged more, and like a true professor, he explained, "Your human ears can't hear it, but we can. He's searching for you, calling out to you in hopes that you'll hear him and call back. If you could hear the emotion in his cry, you would not hesitate to cry out to him, too."

"You can hear him?" I didn't need to hear an answer to know. "Does he expect me to, you know, call out to him?

Lyonechka shook his head, "Not likely. He knows you can't hear him, especially with no mark on your neck, and even then it would still be understandably hard for you to hear."

Johnny spoke up, "But, if you were to call out to him, then he would take it as reinforcement. He would believe that you willingly called out to him, without him needing to do it first. He would think that it was your natural instinct to do so, or your own doing, at least."

The more nervous I became, the more I found it hard to swallow. "And, he would get here faster, if I did call out?"

Lyonechka confirmed, a knowing smile taking over his lips, "More than likely, yes."

And so, I did it.

I cried out to him with all my strength; until my throat burned with a fire so strong that the walls of my throat turned to ash, until my mouth became dry with an agonizing itch, until my lungs were no longer filled with the air that kept my lips pink, until birds started to flee the nearby branches in fear, until I heard the trees whistle in support, until I finally heard a nearly silent thrum.

Once I had finished shouting out to my destined mate for all to hear, the remnants of his name was an ongoing echo that refused to finish. The name sounding like music to my ears.

My hands cupped my neck before I was forced to cough into my sleeve, the pain unbearable as my eyes forcibly watered. The sound of something heavy stomping into the ground took control of the entire forest, the ground shaking violently as I switched my focus to watch tiny rocks jump like little magic beans. The ache of a heartbroken whine evident in the air, still quiet. Something caught my eye. There was a larger rock, somewhat bigger than the tiny abundance of pebbles, that had noticeably started to bounce higher and jumped closer towards Lyonechka's shoes each time it left the ground.

It was then when I realized.

Johnny and Lyonechka, those naive sweethearts, were relying on the idea that Morpheus was going to run to me first. Perhaps, wrap my body in protection with his own, or shove me off to the side before he takes a lunge at one of my so-called kidnappers, or take me by the collar of my top and drag me away from the menacing danger.

However, Morpheus wasn't alone.

And, he was out for blood.

I told myself that it was now or never. A second too late would be fatal, and a second too soon would also be deathly. All that was needed was one measly step to the side, that's all, a single step. Lyonechka seemed to be oblivious as he stood next to me, that is, until I saw his eyebrows raise and his center of attention change to Johnny, almost reaching over me to get to him. But, there was no time. This was it. And so, with all my might, I threw my body in front of Lyonechka.

My helpless form flung through the air as my neck was suddenly captured, the initial grab tight and constricting. Then, rather brutally, my poor back was slammed into the dirt, which ignited the feeling of lava pouring itself into the crevices of my rib cage. Both sides of my neck were being pricked with sharp canines, the length of them threatening to dig in and snap my neck at any given moment. The stop was so unexpected that it caused even the surrounding helpers to halt in their steps. The demand, the request, the beg, all too powerful for it to work for just one.

Underneath him, I could feel the heaviness of Morpheus' weight. The wolf taking as much as he could off. His jaw wide and already locked onto his victim, his plan that was driven by anger had failed as he had first started his attack with the theory of death being his final outcome. The fiery heat of his breath baked my neck as his large chest heaved above me, his breathing irregular. My eyes were planted onto the tip of his ear, watching as it remained in a pinned position. That good ol' fear of mine was completely suppressed and the feeling of being safe grewto replace it. There was nothing but pure silence. Not a shiver. Not a whine. Not a swallow. The spit from his mouth dribbled down his extended teeth and into the brand new puncture wounds of my neck as he stayed still. Slowly, he attempted to unlatch.

As he tried to maneuver his lethal chomp away from my innocent jugular, I gently creeped my battered hand into the fur of his chest, using my sense of touch to guide me until I could feel his beating heart.

My lips quivered, the pain becoming too much as stars started to blur my vision, the adrenaline rush was fading much quicker than I had hoped. With the last ounce of my energy, I asked for a favour.

And, prayed that it would work.

"Please, trust me, my mate."

💕