A Wolf's True Mate

Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

The leaves whisper secrets as I tread the familiar paths of Golden Paw, their crisp voices muted by a tension that clings to my skin. The town is abuzz with the kind of hushed tones and sidelong glances that only come when something big is stirring. It's not just the wind carrying murmurs today.

"Have you heard about Ford?" Lila, the baker's daughter, stands outside her father's shop, a bag of flour hugged to her chest. Her eyes are wide, round pools reflecting a mix of excitement and dread.

I slow down, feigning nonchalance. "No, what's going on?"

She leans in, dropping her voice to conspiratorial levels. "They say he's been seeking out mages and seers all over town."

"Seers?" My heart skips, and I force myself to focus on the cracked cobblestones beneath my feet. Ford consulting mystics is both alarming and intriguing.

"Yep." Lila nods vigorously. "He's desperate to break that old crone’s prophecy. You know, the one about his true mate and death."

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. Ford, grappling with destiny and love—it's the kind of tale bards would croon over, if they knew. But this is no song; it's painfully real.

"Thanks for letting me know, Lila." I manage to smile before slipping away, leaving the scent of fresh bread behind.

As I walk, the weight of my secret presses against the inside of my skull. Telepathy isn't a gift flaunted in Golden Paw. It's a whisper of power too intimate, too invasive for comfort. I've kept it hidden within the walls of my mind like a caged bird, but now...

Would Ford understand? Could he accept another oddity when he's already wrestling with a deadly prophecy? I picture his green eyes, usually so full of command, clouded with uncertainty. He hasn't looked at me with the ease of our childhood in months, not since he became Alpha. Would my revelation bridge the gap growing between us or widen it into an abyss?

"Skye, are you alright?" A voice cuts through the fog of my thoughts.

I turn to find Mrs. Haversham from the apothecary peering at me, her brows knitted together in concern.

"Fine, just... lost in thought." I muster another smile, but it feels brittle on my lips.

"Take care, dear," she says, touching my arm lightly before continuing down the street.

I nod and move on, Ford's plight heavy on my heart. Silence might be my refuge, but even silence has its shadows. And somewhere in those shadows, I wonder if there's room for a truth untold—a truth about a telepathic Omega and an Alpha bound by prophecy.

I weave through the cobblestone streets of Golden Paw, my mind a tangled web of thoughts and secrets. The afternoon sun casts dappled shadows on the path before me, and I can't help but feel as if each one holds a whisper of the unknown, an echo of the prophecy that haunts Ford's every step.

"Skye!"

At the sound of my name, I pivot on my heel, my heart skipping a beat. Luca stands there, his golden-blond hair shimmering like a halo in the sunlight, those deep blue eyes glinting with a warmth that always seems to find me, no matter how far I drift into my own worries.

"Hey, Luca," I greet him, forcing brightness into my voice. It doesn't quite reach my eyes.

"I was thinking," he starts, closing the distance between us with confident strides, "we could grab some food from the market and have a picnic by the lake. What do you say?" His dimples deepen with his hopeful smile, an invitation written all over his strong, earnest face.

The lake sounds inviting, its serene waters a potential balm for my restless spirit. But Ford's predicament, my own hidden truth, they loom over me like specters, leaving little room for anything else.

"Ah, I'd love to, really, but I'm swamped today," I lie, hating the disappointment that flickers across Luca's features. "There's so much I need to take care of."

"Is everything okay?" he probes gently, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. His touch is feather-light, careful not to overstep, yet it's enough to send ripples across the calm facade I've struggled to maintain.

"Of course," I assure him, stepping back slightly. "Just pack stuff. You know how it is." I try to laugh it off, but the sound is hollow, unconvincing.

Luca studies me for a moment, concern etching lines around his eyes. He knows me too well, can read the subtle cues of my body language as if they were bold letters inked on parchment.

"Alright," he says at last, though his gaze lingers, searching. "If you change your mind, or if you just want to talk..."

"Thanks, Luca. Really." My gratitude is genuine, even if my smile isn't. "I'll see you around?"

"Definitely," he replies, but he still hesitates, his expression torn between wanting to press for more and respecting my privacy.

With a nod, he turns away, heading back toward the heart of Golden Paw. I watch him go, the weight of my secret pressing down on me with renewed force. It's one thing to keep Ford at arm's length as he grapples with destiny and dark prophecies, but deceiving Luca, who offers nothing but companionship and—now— romantic affection, feels like a betrayal.

"Take care, Skye," he calls over his shoulder, his voice carrying a note of unspoken worry.

"Always," I whisper to his retreating back, knowing full well that care is a luxury I can scarcely afford. With each step he takes away from me, I'm reminded of the solitude my gift demands, the silence it enforces. And as the crowd swallows him up, I can't shake the feeling that I'm more alone than ever.