Twenty Three.

Willow

The reflection in the window lets me see him roll his eyes. He presses his lips together and shoves his hands in his pockets, deep in thought.

As I start to draw, he quietly asks me a question

“What do you know of mates, little wolf?”

“That it’s a load of bullshit. Something designed years ago by some Moon Goddess as a way to keep blood lines going. That’s what my father told me.”

“And?”

I sigh, pivoting the chair back around to face him. Barely tolerating the pain that spasms down my back.

“Because the wolf population exploded, it became impossible to pair people…up.” Was this seriously going the way it sounded? It couldn’t be possible, it just couldn’t. Surely I would know?

“Anything else?”

I shake my head. Not wanting him to carry on with this conversation. If it’s true, I will never get to leave this place.

“Rumour has it that it is still possible. Very rare, but possible. Only by chance do wolves actually get to meet their mates, it can happen. When you were in the hospit