My Long Lost Mate

"Here," Luke said, handing me a cup of hot tea, wanting me to warm up after being out in the cold for so long. He sat on the sofa beside me, drinking a tea of his own. "What are you thinking?" 

"Whether or not I should believe Maggie's nonsense."

"You know, being a witch is not that... bad," he said, but even I could feel the uncertainty of his words. "That means you have an ability inside you that you have yet to discover. It's good in certain ways that you'll be able to defend yourself from all the dangers around us." 

"Do you hate witches?" My grip on my cup of tea tightened as I inquired. My furrowed brows and downturned mouth caught my attention as I glanced at my reflection in my tea.

"Only the black ones." 

"And what if I turn out to be a black witch?" He tensed up. This is what I feared the most when I first learned that I was a witch. What if I had been a black witch all along? Do I have to live the rest of my life in fear of being found out by others?

Although most people ȧssumed that any kind of a witch was evil, in truth, it was the black witches that they feared. So, if I were a black witch, I'd make things a lot worse than they already are.

"Then, I'll keep on hating black witches, except for one." He took my hand in his, locking our fingers together. "I'll never be able to hate you. It's an impossible task." 

"Even if the whole world hates me?" 

"Even if the whole world hates you." 

I smiled as I heard it, feeling relieved that at least I had one person on my side. It made me feel better to know that no matter what happened, he would always be there for me.

"Thank you," I leaned my head against his shoulder, smiling at our entwined hands. He must be the only person in this world who could make me feel at ease in this situation. 

If what Maggie said was true, how come I've never heard of this before? If I was truly a witch—doesn't that mean either my father or mother was also a witch? I've never seen my father doing anything related to magic—perhaps because I only saw him when he needed me to help appease his boredom—while my mother, I don't recall much about her as my recollections of her are mostly hazy at this point. 

...or was it the reason why I was often dragged to the underground room? If it turns out that my mother was a witch, perhaps my father knew that she was one, but he loved her regardless. And when she died, he discovered that I, too, was a witch—and the affection he once felt for me turned to the hatred that everyone feels for witches because the only witch he ever loved had died. He couldn't kill me off—as somehow—I reminded him of his late wife. 

Despite being reminded, he couldn't help but resent me because it was I, not my mother, who had lived that day. I knew for a fact that he adored my mother a lot back in the days—back when we were still happy. 

Was it plausible if this was the case?

But if my father was a witch, I'm not sure what to think about it. Perhaps he despises me for no apparent reason.

And if I was truly a witch, it could be the reason why Greta was after me. Maybe she wanted me to join her, uhh, I don't know, pack? Maybe, after all these years of the people going on a witch-hunt, she'd almost run out of her witch friends and wanted to search for more? 

I sighed, attempting to rid my mind of all the questions that had been bothering me. It would be great if I could figure out the answers to all of them. I straightened my back and raised the cup that I'd been holding to my lips, wanting to drink the tea that I had yet to finish. 

Another sigh escaped my lips as I realized the tea had cooled in the time I'd ignored it. 

"Do you need me to pour you some more tea?" Luke offered, but I quickly refused to get it on my own. 

"No, let me do it myself. What about you? Do you want some more tea?" I returned his offer, and he accepted my offer with a smile. Standing up, I took his cup and my own cup in my hands and walked over to the cabinet where the teapot was kept. 

Much to my surprise—and Luke's—my legs were asleep, so as I stood up, I stumbled on my foot and fell directly into Luke's ŀȧp. 

"Oh!"

Thankfully, I was able to keep the teacups from slipping away, but I was unable to keep myself from tumbling onto Luke's ŀȧp. My bewilderment was quickly met with Luke's smirk, his hand seizing me by the waist. 

"Did you plan this? I see you've grown to a naughty little—"

"I—I didn't!" I cut him off before he could say anything else, quickly scrambling to my feet to get off him. My attempts to get away from him were thwarted by his grip on my waist, pulling me right back into his ŀȧp. "W-what do you want?" 

"What do you think?" He zoomed closer, his breath tickling me as he did so. His gaze shifted from my eyes to my nose, then to my lips. I looked away. 

W-what is this? Why has the mood turned like this? The chirping birds, the snow falling outside, the warm crackling fire, the... proximity. All of that catalyzed the mood to shift romantically, and I suddenly ended up in this situation.

Without saying anything, Luke placed his palm on my cheek and turned my face to look at him. My breath caught in my throat, and my pulse pumped faster when my eyes met his.

Oh my gosh, is he trying to kiss me right now? 

I pulled my hands closer to my ċhėst, tightening the grip on the two cups. It should be fine to kiss, no? I ȧssured myself that this was normal between mates, but my heart couldn't stop jumping in my ċhėst. Kissing might be normal, but I guess my heartbeat was not.

As Luke grew closer and closer, he tilted his head, closing his eyes. Oh gosh, this is real. We're really going to kiss. Bracing myself, I, too, closed my eyes, waiting for the moment our lips would meet. We were just a few inches away, our—BAM!! The door slammed open. 

"Alpha Luke!! Don't you miss your—oops."

With a gasp, I pushed Luke away, hurrying to scramble to my feet. The cups in my hands slipped away, falling to the floor and spilling some of the leftover tea on Luke's shoes—but he paid them no mind as he was also in a hurry to stand up. I ran to the cabinet where the teapot was while Luke scurried to his desk. 

I turned my back to the door, trying to hide my face from the embarrassment—though it was in vain, as whoever came in must have known that I was the only woman Luke has ever had. 

It was Andrew.

"Do you not know how to knock?" Luke scowled at him, raking through his hair angrily. 

"I—sorry. I'll make sure to knock from now on... to prevent future accidents," Andrew said, attempting to hold back his laughter. "I mean, I didn't have to be concerned about such things before, so I never knocked. Now that you've found your mate... I guess I should be concerned."

I peered through my fingers, hiding my face behind my palm, and saw Andrew winking mischievously at me. My cheeks reddened. 

"What happened?" Jack came through the open door, glancing at the three of us. Seeing him, Andrew was eager—too eager—to fill him in on what had happened. 

"Oh, it's nothing. It's just our Alpha and Luna have gotten incredibly—" 

"Knock it off," Luke interrupted, "Before I knock you out." 

Andrew raised his arms in surrender, but his grin remained broad. Jack was still confused about what had happened, but decided not to pursue the matter any further.

I think it would be wise for me to leave now. I should let these three gentlemen discuss whatever things they're working on. In the meantime, I should head to my room. I shouldn't let my presence interrupt their work—I'm definitely not trying to run or anything. 

"I-I will go call someone to clean this up," I pointed to the spilled tea, trying to reason my way out of the office. Luke nodded, allowing me to go, but it was Andrew who stopped me from going. 

"Gosh, we're not that insensitive, are we, Jack?" He lightly patted my shoulders, blocking my path. A faint 'huh' was muttered by a still very perplexed Jack, but it was ignored.

"Please, stay," Andrew added, winking and beckoning towards Luke. He then forced Jack to turn around by throwing an arm over his shoulders, saying, "We'll leave instead."