My Mate is Another Woman's Fate

The door to my café opened with a soft chime, signaling that someone had entered. I caught a pleasant, familiar scent drifting through the air.

It can't be!

My legs tangled in surprise, and I almost dropped the tray of drinks and snacks. Gathering my inner courage, I raised my eyes-and saw HIM.

He stood in a tense pose, his fists clenched, staring at me from beneath furrowed brows. His eyes burned with a mixture of anger and something unspoken, something that sent a shiver down my spine.

I froze, rooted to the spot, unable to move. I just stood there, staring back.

Was he really looking for me? But why?

The she-wolf inside me howled, clawing at my insides at the sight of her mate. She wanted to throw herself at him, wrap her arms around his neck, and never let go.

Oh no, friend.

We tried that already, and it didn't work. He's human; he can't feel the connection as strongly as we do. To him, it was just an affair-something fleeting. As they say, "I'm not the first, and I won't be the last." So sit down and keep your head down, I tell her. I won't follow my instincts anymore.

And yet, deep in my heart, I couldn't help but hope. What if he was here for me? What if he found me because there was still a chance?

"Hello," I said, breaking the silence.

"Hello," he replied, his voice deep and steady. He said no more, just looked at me.

His gaze made me squirm.

"Would you like a menu?" I asked, trying to sound professional. I was still at work, after all.

For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw the corners of his lips twitch, as if suppressing a smile. But only for a moment.

"I'm not here for long," he said, his voice even more serious now. "I'm waiting for my wife. Can we have a word?"

My heart dropped.

Oh, wow. So he got married, after all.

Of course, he got married! He'd said he would. Why had I ever thought it might be different?

All my hopes crumbled like a house of cards. A lump formed in my throat, and tears threatened to choke me.

Don't cry. Don't cry!

"Ah... I see. You got married. Say what you want," I said quietly, lowering my eyes.

If we were alone, I wouldn't trust myself. I'd melt into a puddle at his feet, and I couldn't allow that to happen. In a crowd, I felt safer. Lifting my gaze, I looked at him again-and noticed something missing.

There was no ring on his hand.

He stood there, perfect as always, radiating confidence like a polished coin. Those green eyes of his, though, looked a little tired. Understandable! A young wife doesn't let you rest, does she?

He was dressed casually but stylishly, his outfit suiting him far too well. Black jeans tailored to perfection, a light T-shirt, and a biker jacket. He