Unspoken Imprints
The mate bond worked in very perplexing ways, but we werewolves as a whole never truly sought to question it. After all, It posed a blessing from our goddess, who sought to give us comfort in a world that would reject us, and you’re not meant to question blessings.
One mate existed to be another functioning part of you, a part of your soul molded outside yourself but made of the same thing. The connection between two wolves fated to be with each other was special, and it allowed certain things to exist between them, including the pain of their rejection.
I would know that because despite Higan rejecting me, I could still feel the pain of his actions every time he became intimate with another woman, and the same applied to him.
He would feel it if I ever got intimate with a man that’s not him.
So, reading his messages opened a Pandora's box of fear and panic I never thought could be triggered in me. The most sickening dreadful idea was sinking in and worse, It would make sense.
No one telling me how I’d reached a coma, my lack of memories of the actual events before waking up in a coma, and Becca’s observation of Higan’s demeanor so far.
Any traumatic event would cause substantial memory loss but that was based on it being traumatic. The more I thought about it, the more the invisible dots connected to why I was in the hospital but it wasn’t a reason I’d wish on my worst enemy.
I was assaulted? Higan was out of blood because he thought I’d slept with someone, but chances were, someone crossed the line with me.
The question now was, who?
I let the silence linger, hoping my body would try to confess something, but all I felt was an irrational sense of calm and fulfillment.
“Assaulted? Come on!” I scoffed, pushing away the idea as it came.
As astounding as it may sound to a crazy person, I didn’t wake up to any apparent wounds from an assault. Also, instead of feeling robbed, I felt added to. It was a strange sensation I could not really explain.
Reading Higan’s threats had somehow thrown me into a frenzy of paranoia and I wasn’t going to let him control my thoughts like that. There could be another explanation to what he meant and there was no better time to find out.
I tapped on the screen of the phone that had laid dormant in my palm. The message was once more illuminated clearly for me to read.
‘I don’t understand what you mean. I believe you got the wrong person.’ I typed in after contemplation. No matter what I would say or do, he would be thoroughly angry regardless. Keeping quiet was not an option with Higan, that itself was worse.
The message was delivered, and I saw it as my clue to drop my phone before it gave me another reason to spiral.
I tried not to dwell on the message I sent to Higan, though the weight of it continued to shift in the back of my mind. He would definitely be angry. His temper was like a ticking bomb, unpredictable and often cruel.
Yet at that moment, it wasn’t his potential anger that unsettled me the most—it was the vague sense that I was missing something crucial. Something that could finally give me a lead on where to start to search for answers to all my questions.
But then, all that would have to wait till I leave the hospital. Pushing away my thoughts, I stretched out on my small bed, letting a deep exhale carry out my anxiousness. I needed to relax.
My gaze drifted toward the pale ceiling, searching for some sort of distraction. I wasn't sure what I was hoping for so I simply laid down and stared.
The silence stretched on, often cut short by passing footsteps and murmuring. I shifted to look out the window, and suddenly, I felt it.
Warm lips pressed against mine, vivacious yet tender, setting my body alight with desperate need. My lips tingled as the memory played out itself as though they still carried the imprint of that passionate kiss.
My breath hitched, and heat blossomed across my face. I reached to touch my lips.
Who? Who kissed me?