words tripped over one another as she tried to get them out. "When a Wolf meets their soulmate, they know. They just know."
Andre looked away and shook his head. "It's just a story that Wolves use to control their children. Your grandmother told you about soulmates so that you wouldn't mate with just anybody. It's just a myth."
Her hands began to shake. "But it's true."
You're my soulmate. It's why I trusted you when you brought me here, even though you are a Bear. It's why I knew you wouldn't hurt me. It's why I want to stay! Let me stay. The fire between them with that kiss only served to solidify her surety. She had found her soulmate, and if she left him, she would never be whole again.
"You think it's because of the kiss," he said softly. He stood, and she stared up into his black eyes, hoping to see some flicker in them that told her he felt the same way. "You think because you felt like you were leaving your body, that you felt closer to me than anyone before, that it means we are soulmates?"
Her breath caught in her chest. He felt it too! He knew.
"My soul sings when I'm near you."
She raised her face to him as his giant hands closely wrapped around her hair, bringing her closer to him. Their lips pressed, opened. Her soul called to him. Mary closed her eyes, feeling that irresistible pull towards him, her body aching to be joined forever with his. A feeling of euphoria, of completeness, filled her.
And as abruptly as he had pulled away the previous night, Andre did it again. Mary leaned against a chair, panting, as the Bear backed away, shaking his head.
"It's not real, Mary," he said in a low voice. "What you are feeling. It's nothing more than physical desire. You do not know what it is like between a man and a woman, and you were raised to believe that men desired women, but women had no desires of their own."
"That's not true." She shook her head in protest. "I was taught about physical desire."
"But have you experienced it?"
"Yes. Many times. I courted a young man when I was sixteen, and I imagined what it would be like—"
Andre shook his head. "Imaginings is not like the real thing. I'm sorry, Mary. You have been lied to your whole life. I am not your soulmate. Soulmates do not exist."
***
Her look of devastation was like a knife to his heart. He wanted to gather her into his arms and wipe away the tears that glimmered in her eyes. But she had to know. It was kinder this way, to tell her everything she was raised to aspire to was worthless in the real world, that she could not hope for one single being to complete her.
"Mary," he started, but she looked away, and he couldn't continue.
His limbs were heavy as he gathered up the ewe and lamb. As he left the cabin, he heard a repressed sob.
It's a ridiculous notion, he told himself.
Unbidden a voice whispered in his mind. Then why do you want to tell her everything about Isadore and Eve, even though she is a werewolf?
He shook his head, trying to deny it, but it was true. He hardly knew her, and yet he wanted to share his greatest pain with her. The thought of her leaving physically hurt. Listening to her speak about her life made anger simmer in his gut. But more than that, whenever he looked into her eyes, he wanted to give himself to her. Not just his body, as delightful as he knew that would be. He wanted to share his life, his future… his past.
In the barn, he turned up the electric heater and put the ewe and little lamb in their own paddock, away from the other animals. The gentle chill stroked his arms, allowing him to think clearly. And for the first time, he admitted it to himself.
He wanted to tell Mary about his wife and daughter. He wanted to give her his pain, his anger, his hate. But if he did that, she would turn away. She wouldn't look at him with those trusting, beautiful eyes. She would want to leave.
Then tell her , a small part of him said. Tell her and make her go. You're no good for her! She deserves a chance to find
Andre looked away and shook his head. "It's just a story that Wolves use to control their children. Your grandmother told you about soulmates so that you wouldn't mate with just anybody. It's just a myth."
Her hands began to shake. "But it's true."
You're my soulmate. It's why I trusted you when you brought me here, even though you are a Bear. It's why I knew you wouldn't hurt me. It's why I want to stay! Let me stay. The fire between them with that kiss only served to solidify her surety. She had found her soulmate, and if she left him, she would never be whole again.
"You think it's because of the kiss," he said softly. He stood, and she stared up into his black eyes, hoping to see some flicker in them that told her he felt the same way. "You think because you felt like you were leaving your body, that you felt closer to me than anyone before, that it means we are soulmates?"
Her breath caught in her chest. He felt it too! He knew.
"My soul sings when I'm near you."
She raised her face to him as his giant hands closely wrapped around her hair, bringing her closer to him. Their lips pressed, opened. Her soul called to him. Mary closed her eyes, feeling that irresistible pull towards him, her body aching to be joined forever with his. A feeling of euphoria, of completeness, filled her.
And as abruptly as he had pulled away the previous night, Andre did it again. Mary leaned against a chair, panting, as the Bear backed away, shaking his head.
"It's not real, Mary," he said in a low voice. "What you are feeling. It's nothing more than physical desire. You do not know what it is like between a man and a woman, and you were raised to believe that men desired women, but women had no desires of their own."
"That's not true." She shook her head in protest. "I was taught about physical desire."
"But have you experienced it?"
"Yes. Many times. I courted a young man when I was sixteen, and I imagined what it would be like—"
Andre shook his head. "Imaginings is not like the real thing. I'm sorry, Mary. You have been lied to your whole life. I am not your soulmate. Soulmates do not exist."
***
Her look of devastation was like a knife to his heart. He wanted to gather her into his arms and wipe away the tears that glimmered in her eyes. But she had to know. It was kinder this way, to tell her everything she was raised to aspire to was worthless in the real world, that she could not hope for one single being to complete her.
"Mary," he started, but she looked away, and he couldn't continue.
His limbs were heavy as he gathered up the ewe and lamb. As he left the cabin, he heard a repressed sob.
It's a ridiculous notion, he told himself.
Unbidden a voice whispered in his mind. Then why do you want to tell her everything about Isadore and Eve, even though she is a werewolf?
He shook his head, trying to deny it, but it was true. He hardly knew her, and yet he wanted to share his greatest pain with her. The thought of her leaving physically hurt. Listening to her speak about her life made anger simmer in his gut. But more than that, whenever he looked into her eyes, he wanted to give himself to her. Not just his body, as delightful as he knew that would be. He wanted to share his life, his future… his past.
In the barn, he turned up the electric heater and put the ewe and little lamb in their own paddock, away from the other animals. The gentle chill stroked his arms, allowing him to think clearly. And for the first time, he admitted it to himself.
He wanted to tell Mary about his wife and daughter. He wanted to give her his pain, his anger, his hate. But if he did that, she would turn away. She wouldn't look at him with those trusting, beautiful eyes. She would want to leave.
Then tell her , a small part of him said. Tell her and make her go. You're no good for her! She deserves a chance to find
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