Page 88 of Forbidden Devotion
“Anytime,” she said between bites. “So it looks like you came down early for a reason. What’s up?”
Eleanor was the most intuitive wolf he knew. He wasn’t surprised she sensed a deeper purpose for his visit. “You’re right, as usual. I came to ask for some privacy for Sinclair and me tonight during the run. I’ll take him east and then head due south. Could you tell the others to please head north? Howl if you need me. I won’t be far. But try not to need me. I don’t want a bunch of hyper wolves playing chase to interrupt us tonight.”
She gazed at him, her eyes bright and steady. “You’re going to claim him.” It wasn’t a question. She knew.
Mitchel nodded. “I can’t be certain what will happen. As far as I know, it’s never been done. I hope everything will be all right.”
“You worry too much. Everything will be fine. It was meant to be. You should enjoy it, Mitchel. Don’t let your worries dampen the experience. For you or Sinclair.”
“How did you get to be so wise, Miss Eleanor?”
She shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder how the rest of you got so dumb.”
Mitchel almost choked on a mouthful of spaghetti.
She continued more seriously. “We are all gifted with intuition to guide us. I listen to mine more closely than the rest of you, and it’s grown strong as a result. Anyone could do it.”
“You may overestimate the rest of us,” Mitchel said. “For now, I’m just glad to have you as part of my pack.”
She beamed. “You’re a swell alpha. I’ll miss you when I graduate.”
“I’ll miss you too. And your spaghetti.”
“You bet you will.”
Mitchel went back to the cabin to await Sinclair’s return. He usually made it back from campus around dinnertime. Mitchel had snagged a to-go plate from Eleanor for him, and wine was breathing on the counter. His nerves were a tangle of anticipation.
The claiming bite. This was a big deal. If he were being honest with himself, he’d admit he never thought he’d find a mate to claim.
Yet despite all odds, a vampire had found him.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
Sinclair
With his bellyfull of spaghetti and wine, Sinclair was almost ready for the full-moon run. He just had to convince Mitchel to give him some privacy so he could prepare for a fewpossibilitieswithout an audience. He sent Mitchel out of the cabin and down through the woods to the little old church without him, promising he would follow shortly. The pack would keep him busy until then.
Sinclair had done extensive research on how werewolves claimed a mate, but the full extent of the process wasn’t available in recorded documents. Rather it passed from one wolf to another to keep the secrets within the species. Only so much could be learned from books.
Mitchel had been kind enough to fill in the details, what he knew of them anyway. If Sinclair had been a wolf, they’d know what to expect. For instance, the bite might affect his scent. Permanently. Any wolf would know he’d been mated, and wolves who also knew Mitchel would know he’d been the one to claim him. Likewise, Mitchel’s scent would reflect his claimed status and Sinclair’s scent as well. He liked that part and hoped it would happen, even though he was a vampire and not a wolf.
They could also hope to achieve some level of empathy. That was, they might be able to physically feel each other’s emotions, potentially at great distances, depending on the strength of their bond. This could be as simple as a quick wave of fear when the other was in danger or as detailed as being able to maintain a constant awareness of the other’s emotional state, regardless of the intensity of the emotion. It was different with every pairing and impossible to predict.
Legend said the most strongly bonded mated pairs were once capable of telepathy, but if such a thing were ever true, it hadn’t happened for generations. No one living had ever known a true bonded pair, known as fated mates. Consequently, the truth of the old stories was heavily doubted.
There were drawbacks to consider as well. The claiming bite meant they’d be unable to handle a long-term separation. Being apart for more than a few days, weeks at most, could cause one or both to go mad. Sinclair didn’t intend to leave Mitchel for any length of time anyway, so he was largely unconcerned, but it was something they’d need to keep in mind.
The only caveat that truly caused Sinclair any alarm was that once the bond was forged, only death could break it. Often the death of one would mean the death of the other swiftly thereafter. Nothing to be done for it, but in theory, Sinclair could live many generations after Mitchel’s passing…unless.
Unless they both let themselves be turned. It was possible; Sinclair had checked. Mitchel could be bitten and turned same as a human, or if Sinclair allowed himself to be turned, infusions of his blood could extend Mitchel’s life indefinitely. Or perhaps Sinclair would never transition. There was some comfort to the thought of growing old with someone. Passing on with them to whatever awaited beyond the veil.
Regardless, they had options and didn’t need to make those tough decisions anytime soon. Not while they were both young, healthy, and ready to run by the light of the full moon.
After he’d taken a moment to himself to get ready for the night’s activities, Sinclair hurried down the hill to join Mitchel and the other wolves. Anticipation tingled his senses. Mitchel’s nerves about the claiming bite were rubbing off on him. He didn’t mind. It was fun to be this excited.
The pack waited on the back porch.
“Here he comes,” Nathan called from a distance.
