A Wolf's True Mate

Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Dawn's light barely pierces the veil of mist that clings to the surface of the river, and I watch as it curls and dances with the gentle current. The water here knows nothing of the turmoil within the Golden Paw pack, nor does it care about the prophecies of old women that can tear hearts apart. I pull my knees closer to my chest, the dew-damp grass beneath me cooling my skin through the thin fabric of my jeans.

I'm alone with my thoughts, or at least, I believe I am. The weight of the prophecy feels heavier with each passing moment – Ford must reject his chosen mate or die. The words echo in my mind like a relentless whisper, refusing to be silenced. A shiver runs down my spine that has nothing to do with the morning chill. What could it mean? And why does it feel like I'm standing on the edge of a precipice, one wrong step away from plummeting into an abyss?

"Skye?"

The sound of my name breaks the silence, and I nearly jump out of my skin. It's Ford, standing just a few feet away, his presence as unyielding as the ancient trees that surround us. His green eyes search mine, and I can see the worry etched into the lines of his face. When did he become so adept at hiding his emotions from the rest of the world? He crosses the space between us in a few strides and lowers himself to sit beside me, his warmth immediately enveloping me.

"Did you come here because of the prophecy?" he asks, his voice low and rough with concern.

I nod, unable to find my voice for a moment. "Yes. I can't stop thinking about it," I admit. "It doesn't make any sense. Why would you have to reject your chosen mate? It's cruel." My gaze flits across the water, avoiding the intensity of his stare.

Ford's jaw clenches, and he looks out over the river, watching the early birds dance above the water's surface. "I know. But if there's even a sliver of truth to it... I can't ignore it. Not when it's my life – or more importantly, the stability of our pack – at stake."

"Have you talked to anyone else about this?" I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper. I fear what it could mean for us, for him, if the prophecy spreads like wildfire through the pack.

He shakes his head. "No, you're the first. I trust you, Skye." His admission is a balm and a burden all at once. "And honestly, I didn't expect to run into you here. But maybe it's fate."

"Maybe," I echo, and in the light of dawn, with the river murmuring secrets only the earth can understand, we sit side by side. Two friends, bound by history and facing an uncertain future, while the world awakens around us.

A cool breeze skirts across the river, ruffling the water into small crests that lap at the bank where we sit. The scent of damp earth and the sound of rustling leaves are a soothing backdrop to the turmoil brewing within me. Ford's presence is both a comfort and a reminder of the prophecy’s weight on his broad shoulders.

"Skye," Ford says, his voice barely louder than the wind, "There's a part of me that wants to dismiss it all as nonsense. But another part... a part tied to my duty, can't." He turns toward me, his green eyes flecked with shards of morning light, searching my face as if looking for an answer I don't have.

I open my mouth, but words fail me. Instead, my hand inches toward him, an instinctive gesture to offer solace. His fingers graze mine, and the contact sends a jolt through me, electric and unexpected. Our hands linger, touching briefly, but in that fleeting connection, something shifts between us.

His touch is warm and steady, grounding me to the moment. It's a stark contrast to the fluttering of my heart—a bird trapped in a cage of ribs, desperate for release. In that instant, I realize Ford's always been this anchor in my life, someone who brings a sense of calm to the chaos.

"Thank you," he mutters, his thumb brushing against my skin in a whisper of movement. His touch lingers, hesitant, as if he's unsure whether to withdraw or to hold on.

The river continues its journey, ignorant to the storm brewing within me. Can he feel it? The rapid beat of my heart, the heat rising in my cheeks? Does he know that his touch stirs something deep inside me—something more than friendship?

"Ford," I start, voice trembling like the leaves around us, "do you ever think about us? You know, about what could be?" My question hangs in the air, heavy with implications I'm only now beginning to understand myself.

He looks at me, really looks at me, and there's a softness in his gaze that I've never noticed before. A vulnerability that belies his strong, Alpha facade. "Sometimes," he confesses, and my breath hitches. "Especially lately."

It's as if the world pauses, holding its breath along with us. In his eyes, I see the reflection of my own doubts and fears—and something more. Something that was hidden beneath layers of duty and expectations, now surfacing with the simplicity of our intertwined fingers.

"Skye," he continues, voice low and intimate, "there are things about being an Alpha no one prepares you for. Choices that weigh on you. And when it comes to you..." He hesitates, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "I worry that my choices might change everything."

Change everything. The words echo in my mind, mingling with the possibilities that until now seemed like distant dreams. Change everything—for better or worse? Panic and hope swirl within me like the currents of the river beside us. Could Ford have feelings for me? Feelings that go beyond the bonds of childhood friendship?

But what about the prophecy? And Luca?

It’s too much to think about, everything pressing down all at once.

Our hands part as a bird takes flight from the brush, breaking the spell. We're left with the lingering warmth where our skin met and the unspoken understanding that whatever lies ahead, we've crossed an unseen threshold.

"Let's head back," Ford suggests, standing and brushing off his jeans, his movements betraying a hint of reluctance.

"Okay." I follow suit, casting one last glance at the river. Its surface shimmers with secrets and reflections, much like the emotions that dance between Ford and me. As we walk back towards the town, the sun climbs higher, promising a new day full of unknowns—and possibly endings.