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Mate.

I heard that word once when my father's distant relatives came to my mother and me. The uncle said that my mother was not a mate, or a real match, my father ... He explained that every werewolf has one mate for life. I was too young then to understand its meaning, but now that explanatory line is ringing in my head again.

"Yes. You are my mate."

Sam's words made me slump in my seat. He only glanced at me for a moment because his attention had to return to the road in front of him. His confession made my stomach feel nervous, but I couldn't ignore the fear tucked into my heart too ...

"So ... what is mate doing?" I asked in a low voice.

Sam didn't answer me for a few moments. The car we were driving through the road that was getting dark.

"Do you have time? I can't talk about it while driving," he replied.

We can't chat in a restaurant, can we? Our chat is vulnerable to being overheard by other people in public places. Where can we chat freely without having to worry about it?

Th