The wind is cold as it blows, chilling my soaked body. The sun was out earlier and it had made the lake look as if there were crystals sparkling. In the hour I spent swimming, I was happy. That's before I remembered that the approach of my twenty-first birthday is near. And as if the sky had known my new mood, the sun disappeared as cumulonimbus clouds moved in. What was once a beautiful day was now gray and dark. A perfect reflection for how I feel.

So, now I lay in the grass of the meadow. I run my hand over the blades, imagining myself as a genderless flower. Where I could always feel the sun and nothing could ever hurt me. But instead, I'm here as a larger being. A being who can't even exist properly.

Thunder booms in the sky, sending a vibration through the ground. The wind blows again, something much heavier and ominous. I shiver as the strong breeze stops and the trees still, creating a blanket of silence over everything. Once my teeth start chattering, I know that it's time to go. I reach for my clothes and pull them on slowly, happy my body is dry from all of that wind.

As I lower my top over my chest, the bushes rustle to my left. My body tenses as I snap my head in that direction. The sound comes again, a twig also snapping to accompany it. I hold my breath, praying it's a wild animal; a small one, preferably. When I hear nothing else, I release that breath and reach down for my shoes.

"You shouldn't be out on your own," a voice says, causing me to jump five feet into the air. I turn to see a guy hunched over and laughing.

"Rory!" I push his shoulder though the action barely moves him. "Why would you do that?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He leans up, a goofy smile on his face. "Please don't be angry, doll." He walks over to me, but I turn my back to him, still upset.

That's until I feel his hands gripping my waist. Rory's front is pressed against my back and I feel his warmth heating up my body. I close my eyes, enjoying the feeling of what I hope is love. He turns me, then I feel his lips on mine. The soft comfort of them ignites my whole being, right down to the core.

"Let's go get you warmed up, mate," Rory interrupts the silence to say. He then presses a kiss to my forehead.

"You don't know," I whisper. As we start walking, I downcast my gaze to the forest floor.

It's a recurring argument between the two of us: whether he can call me 'mate' or not. A mate is more than just a friend, more than just a significant other. Your mate is your soulmate for life. They're your other half and when you come together, it's explosive. The term of endearment, mate, holds so much value. It's everything to werewolves.

We've always learned that in school from the time we're able to talk until we graduate completely. It's instilled in our brains that a soulmate is something sacred that shouldn't be tread upon lightly.

That's why I can't allow Rory to call me his mate. We don't know if we're mates. That's only something a wolf can tell when they turn twenty-one. And even then, there's no guarantee a wolf will find their other half. More often than not, we grow up to marry our chosen significant other, not our destined mate. Those who do find their other half are lucky to have done so. It's all just a huge game of fate the moon goddess has set for us.

"Why do you think it's so impossible?" Rory asks, sighing. That little action lets me know he's now irritated.

"Not impossible," I mumble. "Just... a bit unlikely."

"Do you not want to be mates, Sophia-Grace?" The broken tone of his voice causes me to look up at him.

I pull us to a stop so I can speak clearly and look into his eyes. One of the things I love about Rory is his sensitivity. Like me, Rory is dubbed an outcast. His parents had abandoned him at the young age of two. The Wilson's, a couple who couldn't conceive, were happy to take him in. That's until Rory turned twelve. Instead of a full shift, he had only half shifted which was enough to get a child shunned by everyone, including their parents—adoptive or real. I've always hated that he had to experience that, especially when it's something he couldn't possibly control.

"Don't ever say that." My eyebrows furrow. "I would be the happiest girl if we were mates. Rory, please don't ever doubt that. If... if this is what love is, I never want to lose it."

He closes his eyes as I bring a hand up to cup his cheek. His head tilts slightly as he leans into my palm. We had met by chance five years ago, when Rory had been kicked out. By that time, I was thirteen so I was basically on my own already. Maybe it was fate, but I had decided to explore an unfamiliar path. When I walked past a large oak tree, I heard a whimper. I remember being afraid that it was a trick, but as I rounded the tree, I saw the most heartbreaking sight. It was Rory sat against the trunk, his face buried in his knees, and his shoulders shaking.

"Don't cry," I whispered, "you're too beautiful to cry."

And we had been close ever since. Rory is the only person who I can connect with and talk to as if we're the only two people in the world. He's the only one I ever want to talk to. Naturally, it hurts me to see him so upset, especially with something that I may have caused.

Rory turns his gaze to me fully and the determination in his eyes is hard to ignore. "We're mates, Soph, I know we are," he says, stepping an inch closer to me. "Do you wanna know how I know?"

I bite my bottom lip, but he lifts a hand to my face. His thumb gently pulls my lip from between my teeth. "How?" I finally ask.

"I know because every fiber of my being heats up when you're near. I know because my heart can't stop pounding in your presence and I'm always nervous around you. A good nervous, the kind that makes your palms sweat and that let's me know that I want to do everything to make you happy. I know because when I close my eyes, I see a future with you and our pups." He pauses before pulling me to him and bringing his lips to my ear. "I know because I love you with everything I have. I love you like a wolf loves their mate."

My cheeks flame as I blush and my heart stutters in pain and love. Pain because I can't help but think that there's a chance Rory isn't my mate. Love because I know that I'm irrevocably in love with the wolf in front of me. I don't need a constructed bond to tell me that I love Rory. I'm just happy that I was able to experience falling in love on my own and without the matebond.

Nothing else is said after his declaration. I only grab his hand and continue forward, pulling Roy with me. Once the cottage comes into view, I drop his hand to skip the rest of the way there. Stepping up to the door, I push it open and drop my shoes by the entrance. Closing my eyes, I welcome in the familiar smell of my home: honey and lavender. Immediately, my body starts to warm up.

I feel a presence behind me, knowing that it's Rory. Turning, I open my eyes to gaze at the man before me. He has the lightest shade of brown eyes I've ever seen, a contrast to the blue ones I have. When the sun is out and shining, they take on a golden hue that makes him look ethereal. His blonde hair is swept to the side, with strands continuously falling onto his forehead to cover his sight. Lifting a hand, I place it on his smooth chin, enjoying the lack of facial hair he has. Rory has always had a baby face, for as long as I've known him, but it never takes away from how handsome he is.

"You're beautiful," I whisper and watch as the blush takes over his face.

Rory's eyes shift away for a moment before landing back on me. "We've gone over this, doll," he says, smiling to let me know he's joking. "I'm too manly to be beautiful."

"You'll always be beautiful to me," I counter, raising an eyebrow. "Nothing will change that. I think you're the most beautiful boy I've ever met."

"And you're the most—"

Rory doesn't get to finish his sentence as my cottage door is roughly pushed open. Though it was possibly kicked open as one of the hinges breaks upon opening. Before us are three guards and my father. His face is blank before our eyes meet and he sneers. Pulling Rory away, I step in front of him, though I know that I'd be the first to die in a battle.

"Father?" I mumble, looking at the ground to show him my respect.

"Sophia-Grace, I'm disappointed in you," my father speaks, his tone nowhere near nice. Instead it's cold and emotionless, a tone no child should hear from their parents. "You know that you're betrothed to Timothy, yet you're having secret relations with this omega."

My heart stops as I look up from the ground. My relationship with Rory is something only the two of us know about... until now. I had already been aware of my father's plans to marry me off to the beta's son, Timothy, but it's not a choice I want to make.

"Father, I—" he holds a hand up and I stop what I'm saying.

"Grab the boy," he commands with a flourish of his hand. The guards step forward and my eyes widen in disbelief.

"No!" I shriek, though I know this will inevitably get me punished.

I step back into Rory's chest, hoping he'll move with me and start backing away also, only he doesn't. Looking up, I see his sad eyes already on me. They reflect defeat and understanding... showcasing that he's giving up this easily. My heart cracks as I watch Rory move from behind me. Doubt and disbelief form as a tight ball in my throat.

"Rory, they'll lock you away." I turn quickly, wrapping my arms around his torso, hoping to stop him. "You know they will, please don't do this."

They, meaning my father and everyone who serves him, have always been looking for a reason to lock Rory away. Not for any particular reason, but just because he's different from everyone else. If I wasn't conceived by this man, I'd most likely be taken to a cell as well. Though I suppose I have my own punishment waiting for me.

His hand comes down onto my back as he rubs it softly. "We'll find each other."

That's all he has a chance to say before he's ripped away from me. My mouth drops in horror as I see a guard pull out silver chains from the bag he has, his own hands are covered with a pair of leather gloves. Once he wraps them around Rory's wrists, I already see his flesh burning, but Rory says nothing, no noise leaves him.

Then, I watch as they take him away, carrying my heart with them. My gaze turns to my father and I eye him cautiously. He's been quiet this whole time and I only notice now how he's studying me.

"Come, your twenty-first birthday approaches." He motions me forward, yet I don't move. "Come now, Sophia-Grace, or I'll have that boy killed."

With those words, I'm scrambling forward, quickly approaching my doom.