Craft and Mark

She came into his life along with the hurricane that had been crashing up and down the rocky shores and tearing up the tiny shoreline town they lived in. The final, violent winds and rains that signalled its farewell after a week-long, merciless rampage was what delivered her practically to his doorstep.

He’d already been up before the dawn, unable to sleep, restless and on edge for a reason he couldn’t fathom. He’d made strong coffee, buttered some toast and started making some herbal tea for Lorelai as he heard her shuffling upstairs. His sister-in-law joined him not long after, rubbing her sleepy eyes with one hand and massaging her rapidly growing baby bump with the other.

“Hey, handsome.” She said, smiling at the sight of him, staring darkly into the eye of the storm raging out at sea, beyond the window and the rocky shoreline, “Couldn’t sleep again?”

He shook his head and passed her the herbal tea that his nose wrinkled at. How she could drink the stuff, he had no idea, but then again, he understood very little about the mysteries of pregnant women. Women, he knew and understood plenty about. Pregnant women, not that much.

“Nope. Want any toast?” He waved a jar of chocolate spread at her and nodded at the bump, “Butch want any highly calorific sugar for his breakfast?”

“Yes please, sounds like something right up his street.” Lorelai beamed, rubbing her tummy in anticipation and sitting down at the dinner table. Joren started making her toast and she watched him carefully as he did, noticing the dark shadows on his eyes, “What’s up with the non-sleep?”

“Fuck knows,” Joren shrugged, yawning, “Been like that for the past two days. Like something’s going to happen and I have no idea what it is.”

Lorelai pursed her lips and sipped her tea. He was lonely, she thought. The Alpha and eldest of their sapling Pack and unmated. He lived with two younger brothers, who had both found their True Mates, a nephew or niece on the way and he remained alone. Obstinately alone, Lorelai thought irritably. He refused to search for his True Mate, more resolved to the fact that he was never likely to find one than anyone else. It frustrated them all.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t the most wanted man in the town either. It wasn’t like every hot-blooded local and tourist didn’t salivate after him when they saw him. They did that and much more. Some of them drifted and lingered around near the house for hours, hoping to see him, to get in a conversation, to find an opportunity to flirt.

Sometimes he indulged in a bit of teasing. Sometimes he went off for the night with a pretty girl who was visiting and touristing but that was the extent of it. He just had no time for them beyond the basic levels he wanted, just couldn’t be enthused about it. Every other male in town outside of their house was jealous of him, that was very clear and none of them could understand either why he never took full advantage of the ripe, bountiful offerings that came his way. Joren Kayman remained unbothered by it. But his family knew that was at the heart of his restlessness, his every-growing brooding and lack of peace. He needed his True Mate.

“I’ll spray some lavender on your pillow tonight, that always helps me sleep.’ Lorelai said, smiling gratefully as he delivered her a plate of toast thickly spread with hazelnut chocolate. She bit into it and she knew instantly the baby inside her loved it, “Butch thanks his uncle Joren. He adores you.”

“He’d better with all the chocolate spread I’m buying him.” Joren smiled.

It was that moment it happened. A huge metallic scream of wheels skidding on the road outside, a thunderous crash as a car crunched into the wooden fence of their front garden. Smoke, lightning and Lorelai yelping and jumping in terror followed.

They both ran to the living room and stared out the window that looked onto the front garden at the wreckage of the car that had ploughed straight through their fence. The front of it was hissing in the storm, grey smoke unfurling from the bonnet. The driver was still inside. Upstairs, faint sounds of everyone else getting up drifted down and Logan was soon thundering down the stairs.

“What the fuck’s happened? Lori, are you OK, sweetie?” He shouted ahead of him as he ran into the room, eyes wildly looking for Lorelai. He was in pyjama bottoms and shirtless in his haste to get to her and make sure she was alright. He saw her standing by the window and relief was clear on his features that she was fine, “What’s happened?”

“Some fucker’s gone straight through our front fence. Couldn’t hear them coming because of this damned weather.” Joren said grimly, senses alert and prickled. “Logan, be ready for anything.”

Logan’s hackles were already rising, his canines itching to extend.

“Stay inside, Lorelai and send Heath out when he’s down.” He told her firmly.

They both went outside, unbothered by the rains, winds and storms shredding everything. As they neared the car, Heath came running out of the house, also shirtless and in pyjamas bottoms, joining his brothers, eyes sharp and alert, canines fully extended. Through the living room window, his Mate, Freya had joined Lorelai and both of them were watching cautiously and warily. While Lorelai’s instincts were focused on protecting her pup, Freya’s was honed on her True Mate and her Pack.

The driver’s door suddenly swung open as the shadowy figure inside moved. Joren sniffed the air heavily, trying to pick up all and every sign being emitted from the driver. The rain and winds made it very difficult, all their senses were neutralised, which meant they didn’t have the advantages they normally would have. Logan and Heath had their canines out, snarling and ready to shift. Joren’s growl rumbled through the air, sensing danger. Surely no one, he thought, would dare enter here, seeking them. Surely they understood this was sacred ground.

A girl stumbled out, her back to them at first, coughing and gasping for breath. Everything in Joren’s body turned to raised hair and goosebumps. His heart slowed and thumped twice as hard and viciously. His lycan went mad. Burning, sharp saliva suddenly drenching his canines, his vision went dark as it zoned in on her.

She was in dark jeans and a pale, peach coloured t-shirt, despite the weather. She was petite and slim with skin like golden honey and thick, black-brown hair - Goddess, there was a lot of hair - falling in short, soft waves to her collar. The base of her exposed neck stirred heat in him so intense, he could feel every muscle clenching. And then she turned, blinking dazedly at them. His gut wrenched, his heart seized.

Beautifully shaped face, delicate chin, button nose, almond chocolate eyes, full lips and a perfect small round dot of a beauty mark one side of the sensual mouth. The wind, the surf from the sea and the rain plastered her clothes to her, showing him slim shoulders, beautiful breasts, a small waist and softly curved hips.

Mate, his heart pulsed and howled jubilantly, louder than the storm, Mine. All mine.

And then he noticed the thin trickle of red blood spreading roots from her hair and down her forehead.

“I’m-I’m so sorry,” she stammered, beautiful English accent shaken but clear over the raging storm, “I didn’t mean to- I’ll pay for all damages. I’m so sorry.”

“Who are you?” Logan demanded to know over the weather as they came nearer to her, “What happened?”

“M-my car got hit by this wind,” she held a shaky arm up to shield from the rain hitting her face. Joren saw a scratched elbow, torn and bleeding.

“Are you OK?” Heath asked, also seeing the cuts, the bruises and the blood.

“I-yes. I’m-“ she blinked, shaky breaths being gulped as she stared wildly from one of them to the other. When her eyes hit him, that was when she swayed, eyes closing as her legs gave way.

He was the nearest to her and he caught her neatly before she hit the ground. Even years after, he could still remember what it felt like to touch her, to have her in his arms. His entire world shifted, clicked, like it had only been propelled along, mundane day to mundane day, for just that very moment. The feel of her felt both new, startling, frightening and comforting, perfect and old as the world’s core.

Mine. My Mate. Mine, his Lycan kept snarling, wanting to dive into the excitement, wallow in it. Externally, he forced himself to stay calm.

She weighed nothing and her slim, small body was wet and cold. He held her close to him, desperate to keep her warm and trying to fight every other single urge in his body to kiss her, to heat her with more than just this basic contact. To wake her up, to get her to Recognize him. To mate furiously until they were both spent, both so entangled they could never be undone.

Joren frowned at the blood, sharp eyes taking everything else in and checking she was all OK. Aside from the blood clotting to her forehead and the cuts in her arms, nothing else seemed hurt.

“We have to get her in,” Joren said darkly to his brothers marching back to the house.

“Joren, we don’t know who she is. She could be dangerous. She could be here for us.” Logan said, alarm on his face as he followed his brother.

“This is sacred ground, no one would be crazy enough to attack us here.” Heath said, shaking his head as he retreated, glancing back at the wreck of the car, “But Logan's right, we don’t know who she is.”

“We can’t leave her out there,” Joren said as he got up the porch. Freya had opened the door, clear grey eyes almost silvery bright in their focus. “Get hot water going, she needs her wounds cleaned.”

Lorelai moved to put on the kettle immediately and Freya frowned, looking at the girl in Joren’s arms intently.

“Better put her in the guest room,” Lorelai said, “there’s clean towels and everything already in there. Freya and I can bring up medicine.”

“Freya, can you sense danger on her?” Heath said asked, “The winds are too bad out there, we couldn’t pick up anything.”

“No,” Freya’s extra fine and honed senses that they trusted the most had been working overtime. Slowly, she shook her head thoughtfully, “But she’s not a normal human or werewolf either. She’s something else. But not dangerous to us. I don’t think.”

Not werewolf. He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or gutted to hear that. He understood werewolves, he loved shewolves, they were easy to understand, great in the sack. But she wasn’t a normal human either. He was nervous to hear that, it frayed him. What was she? He ignored it all for the moment.

“Logan and Heath, better do a perimeter patrol. Just in case anything else followed her in. I’ll do the wider circuit run.” Joren started carrying her up the stairs, “Lorelai and Freya, I’m leaving her in the main guest room for you to sort her out.”

“We’re on it,” Heath said as he and Logan nodded at each other. He turned to Freya, kissed her fiercely, “Keep your senses sharp, beautiful. Especially around the house. Especially on her.”

“Be safe,” Freya kissed him back, squeezing his hand as he head back out the front door.

Logan was pressing a kiss to Lorelai’s bump, stroking her soothingly as his eyes met hers.

“Look after each other,” he said firmly as he kissed her.

“You too,” she nodded back.

They both headed back out into the storm and shifted the moment they were on the ground of the garden, lycan forms monstrous and huge in the grey and dark cover of the storm. The weather was good for one thing, it meant no one would be out and about in the slightly isolated area to see them in their beast forms. They sniffed curiously at the car before looking at each other sharply, nodding and then turning and running off into the dark, the wet and the cold in opposite directions.

Freya watched them go from the window before locking the doors behind them and turning around and helping Lorelai load the tray she was preparing with ointments, potions and creams.

“I don’t think she’s a danger to us, Lori,” she said, her hazel eyes going dark, “But I do think she is dangerous. Very dangerous.”

Upstairs, Joren was laying the girl onto the bed, which he’d spread out a bunch of towels over. She was still cold and she need to get out of the wet clothes but he would have to get the women to do that. The thought of her naked already had him feeling flustered, even more so when he imagined him doing it. He gritted his teeth, forced himself to step away and take a deep breath.

His Mate. His True Mate. It had happened, at long last. His eyes couldn’t stop devouring her, every small feature. The fine brows, the small, delicate hands, the tiny feet, long legs, slim, toned calves. Delicate ears, the texture of that thick, glorious hair. He didn’t know how to deal with it and his chest was now getting raw with the breaths he had been trying to force down and calm. He had thought that after all this time, it wasn’t ever going to happen and now, here she was. Conveniently delivered to him on a storm.

Not werewolf. No wholly human. Something else. His brain ran through the scenarios. A Vampyre? The Goddess above, he wasn’t sure he could deal with that. A Fae? That might be worse, he thought wearily. A witch? Powerful and dangerous and he knew more bad warlocks and witches than he did good. A Morpher? Rare, but possible. Regardless, it made everything a hell of a lot more complicated. Sure, cross-species mating happened, it wasn’t wholly uncommon but neither was it an everyday thing. Some Packs, clans, covens, flocks and groups allowed it but more than often enough, they didn’t encourage it. It made things more complex, muddied waters and created unpredictable and potentially dangerous children that some of them didn’t like the thought of.

None of them were as straightforward as a werewolf and he’d always assumed his True Mate would be a werewolf. Recognition and Bonding wouldn’t work the same way with her, she wouldn’t have the same feelings as he did - that instant knowledge that he was the one for her. The only one. He didn’t even know where to begin with connecting to a True Mate outside of his own species. Why couldn’t things ever be simple, his gut gnawed.

He forced himself to leave the room, close the door behind him and rubbed a hand over his face. He got down the stairs and both Freya and Lorelai were about to head up, Freya carrying the tray of medicine. They clocked his face, darker and stormier than the weather outside. He looked furious.

“Joren, what’s wrong?” Lorelai asked in concern, touching his arm and her eyes snapping upstairs, “What is it?”

“Look after her,” Joren said heavily as he went for the back door. He paused before he opened the door and muttered, almost angrily, “She’s my Mate.”

By the time he had got back from his check of the outer circuit, everyone was gathered in the living room. The storm outside had cut down on the winds but the rain still poured and pounded down in sheets. Lunch was being prepared and they were sat around the dining table, taking quietly. When he came in, wrapped in a towel from the rack by the back door, they all turned to him with questions in their eyes. They didn’t ask them though, letting him go and get changed before he joined them again later.

When he next came back into the room, dried and clothed, Mason was ladling stew into big bowls and Logan was cutting hunks of bread up. The fire in between the open plan living room and dining room was roaring away, heating everything up and Freya poured hot, strong tea.

“Well?” Joren asked, looking at them. They both shook their heads.

“Nothing within the perimeter,” Logan said, “You?”

“Nothing on the outer circuit.” Joren leaned his hands on the back of a chair, “Looks like nothing else is here.”

“Is it true?” Heath asked, eyes sharp, “She’s your Mate?”

Joren eventually nodded. They all looked at each other, smiles forming and delight shining in their eyes. Freya and Lorelai were particularly happy, squealing in excitement and Lorelai clapping in joy. Freya squeezed his shoulder as she brought over his tea.

“I Recognised her as she got out of the car,” Joren said.

“This is so exciting!” Freya said, shaking his shoulders, “Joren, this is great news!”

His brothers were grinning widely and rolling him into rough hugs. There was a lot of punching and slapping and barking of laughter.

“Congratulations, you fucker. At last!” Logan chortled as Joren pushed his grinning face away.

“You can finally stop being such a miserable pain in the ass,” Heath smirked and was rewarded with a middle finger in the air.

“Why aren’t you happier about this?” Freya asked, frowning as she realised he was the only one not whooping in jubilation like them. “This is is good!”

They sat around the table, passing the bowls and bread around, looking at him worriedly.

“If she’s not a werewolf, this isn’t straightforward,” Joren said, “Recognition and Bonding won’t work the same way for her. More importantly, we know nothing about her, we don’t even know who she is, and you said she’s not a werewolf or a human. That’s potentially very dangerous.” Joren said.

“Not if she’s your True Mate,” Lorelai said, “none of that matters.”

“Tell that to our mom,” Joren said bluntly and there was a silence.

All the men were tensed at the memory of their mother, the monster that was their father and the many mistakes she had made because he was her True Mate. They spooned stew in silence for a few minutes.

“Is she up?” Joren asked, looking at Lorelai and Freya. They shook their head and Joren looked hard at Lorelai. “Are her injuries bad? Do we need to get her to hospital?”

“No, she hasn’t got concussion. She woke up briefly when we were cleaning her cuts but she went back to sleep. She’s bruised but just in a bit of shock and exhausted. It’s a miracle that she’s not hurt more.” Lorelai said and her eyes met his, “Her name is Niara Grace.”

Niara, Niara Grace. Niara. Joren rolled the words in his mind, My Niara.

“She say anything else?” Joren ask, dunking chunks of bread into the thick, rich, warming stew.

“The side of her car got hit by the winds, she lost control and swerved into the fence. She kept saying she was sorry and that she’d pay for the damages.” Freya said, “We didn’t pry, she needed to rest.”

“What are you going to do?” Heath asked, watching his brother carefully.

Joren ate his stew slowly and shrugged but his eyes were steely.

“We find out who she is, what she’s doing here, help her get back on her feet. If she’s any trouble, she’s out of here, straight away.” He said flatly.

There was a look of shock between Freya and Lorelai before they looked at him in astonishment. Logan and Heath said nothing but also looked at each other darkly.

“Joren, she’s your True Mate,” Freya said, the upset and disappointment clear in her voice, “You can’t just send her away or let her go, just like that. Don’t you know what that’s going to do to you? Aren’t you going to...?”

She faltered, looking at Heath for support. Heath shook his head, his eyes telling her to not push any further. Freya’s brows snapped.

“Going to do what?” Joren asked flatly, finishing his stew and getting to his feet to out the bowl in the dishwasher, “I won’t risk any harm coming to our Pack, or our pups. Not after everything we’ve been through and not for anyone. Any trouble, and she’s out. I’m going to check out the car and the fence.”

“Joren-“ Lorelai called out to him, appalled and Freya stood up, meaning to catch his arm.

“Let him go,” Heath said heavily, shaking his head as he finished his own stew. Lorelai crossed her arms at him angrily then waved furiously out the living window where, in the distance, they could see Joren waking to the car and inspecting it. Even with the raincoat, he was already drenched and looking miserable, furious, angry and vicious in the downpour.

“Why didn’t you tell him he’s being an ass? Both of you?” She glared at him and Logan, “I can’t believe he would even think about not telling her or-or being with her!”

“Because he needs to do this in his own time,” Logan said, seeing Lorelai’s own eyes flash and he reached across and took her hand soothingly, “Woah, woah there. Don’t get mad at us. There’s nothing we can do about it right now and there’s nothing we can do to change him. You know how he’s always been around the this topic.”

“Are you honestly saying that you’re going to stand by and just let him wave goodbye to his True Mate?” Lorelai exclaimed, “After all this time? After what he’s gone through? He needs her. Would you have done that with me?”

“Of course not, you crazy?” Logan said, brows shooting up although it didn’t stop her from huffing indignantly.

Heath had walked up to Freya and put his arm around her, hugged her as he pressed an affectionate kiss to her forehead.

“Let him sort it out his way,” Heath said soothingly but Freya shook her head, eyes sad and troubled, “We can’t tell him what to do, he’ll sort this out himself.”

“But we can put him on the right path!” She exclaimed, “Lorelai’s with me on this. He needs his True Mate. We all need our True Mate. He’s going to make the biggest mistake of his life if we don’t stop him!”

“Freya is absolutely right,” Lorelai said, “He can’t reject his own True Mate, that’s unforgivable. He’ll kill himself! Logan, we just can’t!”

Logan came over, started massaging her shoulders to ease the tension caused by both the storm and situation. He kissed the back of her neck tenderly, smoothed a comforting hand over her swollen belly.

“Calm down, sweetie.” Logan said, “It’ll be OK.”

“How can you know that?” Lorelai demanded, her eyes flashing to Freya’s for back up, who nodded fiercely in agreement.

“Exactly, how can both of you be so unbothered about all of this? How can you let him endanger himself like this?” Freya snapped irritably at Jenson.

Both Heath and Logan looked at each other and grinned before smirking at their women.

“Because no respectable Kayman lets go of his True Mate when he’s found her, no matter what he says,” Heath said, nipping Freya’s ear. “Ever.”