nightmares. That wasn’t the answer. Worse was the idea that a werewolf could pick the wrong mate. Or would do so intentionally. If that was true, and he had no reason not to believe Billy, then anyone could have claimed Summer before he even met her. A fist seemed to grip his heart. Thank God I already bonded with her.
“You’ve seen this before?” He was proud he kept that moment’s panic out of his voice.
She paled under her tan and pressed her lips together. “Once.”
“Your grandparents?”
She forced a laugh. “No. I don’t think so. I think those two just started off wrong and it escalated into a full out war.”
“Who then?” he prodded, when she didn’t continue.
She shook her head, like she was getting rid of a memory. “A few years ago in the Panhandle.
The girl was the Alpha’s daughter, and one of the weres who was in line for his position bonded with her.
It was okay for a while. They got along.” She paused for a drink of her water. “Then a Hunter came through.”
Jackson didn’t know if he wanted to hear the rest. There were few that could take on a Hunter.
“The girl realized right away. So did he, of course. There was a challenge, and she was hysterical. She had to be sedated.” Summer’s eyes took on a far away look. “The Hunter won, but it caused a lot of turmoil. People suddenly wondered about their own bonds, and there was this great big rift between the woman and her pack. She grew up with those people and it was a blow. The Hunter took her away. I don’t know what happened to them.”
Jackson felt triumph on behalf of the Hunter for winning his mate, but he doubted Summer shared the feeling. He turned so she couldn’t see his reaction, which had to reflect more than his agreement with the Hunter’s action. He’d do the same in his position.
The idea that a werewolf would bond with someone who was not his destined mate was deeply disturbing. Worse that someone in his pack may have done so; it was the most horrible of taboos.
Bonding with a woman, that one particular equal, bordered on sacred. He remembered the old tales told around the fire when he was a cub. Stories of the gods deciding to create a perfect counterpart for the werewolves, a match that would become so important to them that the old ways of fighting and bickering were forced under control. The mate bond served to tame some of their more primitive natures.
If Wyatt had bonded with a woman who was not his destined mate, Jackson would be forced to act. In what capacity, he had no idea. He’d never heard of or witnessed such a thing. His wolf side wanted to let Billy handle it, knowing it would come to a death challenge and sure of the outcome. The human side that had to control a pack of three hundred was less sure that was a great idea. Later he would contact the Elder of the Council and seek advice, but he was tempted to say fuck it, give in to his animal nature, and deal with the consequences.
Shaking his head, he decided nothing could be determined without collecting a lot more information. There was an elder werewolf in the village who may be able to help, and he could use the opportunity to take his witch around to meet the locals while he was at it.
She still sat in the chair, pensively staring out the window. He recognized her as his mate the way his species was supposed to—she existed in him down to his very marrow. She had to feel it too but, after hearing the story of the Hunter and his mate and the little he knew of her grandparents, he was beginning to understand her reticence. Dreaming a dozen possibilities of the future couldn’t help her state of mind. He’d probably made it worse by keeping her locked up in the house. She was safer here, but she resented being treated like someone who needed to be protected. She’d have to get over that; it was one area that he couldn’t bend.
“Find your jacket and let’s get out of here for a little while.” Waiting for her decision, he
Learning to Kill: Stories