Chapter 5: The Mating Vow

"Alright… you can do it, big boy. One more and—dang, here you go!" I gritted my teeth and pushed the man off my shoulder and into the bed. When I was certain his dangling arm would not drag me along, I stumbled back with a sigh to watch his massive space crowd the twin-sized bed. 

My eyes widened as the bed creaked against his weight. I stretched out my arms and walked closer to the bed again; I don't know, maybe in an attempt to stop the mattress from crumbling down because of the weight. My action was out of instinct. The bed had never made that sound before. I wasn't that massive, to begin with, and I worried about the sound it created, like how a person would groan if someone smashed against them. 

"Wow! You're indeed a beast," I breathed in relief and gratitude that the bed remained steady. I placed my hands on my waist and intently watched the stranger. He definitely was a stranger. Nothing but a faint familiarity from my dream because there was no way he was actually the man from my dream. It couldn't be. 

Then my eyes traveled down his torso and to the… "A beast," I absent-mindedly muttered before attempting to grab the blanket underneath was futile. I had to get a new one from the drawer and cover his body with it. 

"Should I call for help? You're unarmed but it's early for me to say you're harmless. Why did you faint, though? You don't have bruises on your face. I doubted someone in the street would have the courage to mess up with you, but…"

Leaning forward and closer to his face, I witnessed the deep line between his brows. Even in his sleep, he was in pain. He couldn't be at rest.

"What happened? Who are you? How did you get here, and why… you look so much like the man in my dream?!" I think that one fact was enough to make me panic. It made me question whether I did see in my dream or perhaps, somewhere else? Because there was no way I would meet someone I had never met but in my dream, right? 

There was no trace of alcohol on his breath either. And if I were to judge, he didn't look like someone enduring some terminal sickness. Just drained for some odd reason to the point of passing out at my door. 

Standing upright, I rolled my eyes to nowhere, wondering why I was talking to an unconscious stranger man on my bed. I should report him to the authorities or at least let the building staff know an outsider made his way up here. I was about to do just that but I contemplated. For what reason, I couldn't tell. 

I took my laptop to the dining area and made myself a chamomile tea before trying again to write something. 

He smelled of musky leather with a faint scent of earth. I opened my eyes just in time to see the gray wolf shifting into the most beautiful man I have ever seen.

I gaped at the words on my screen. It sounded like a flop movie script. Groaning, I erased everything and shut down the laptop. With that one paragraph, I didn't realize how time had passed until I looked at the clock and saw that I had wasted two hours recalling my dream. 

When I returned to the bedroom, the man was still passed out. He did not move an inch from that position so I rushed to check on him. I put my open palm closer to his nose to feel his breathing. He's still alive and breathing out warm air. For some reason, the warmth spread in my chest, too, and I was at ease at the mere fact that he was alive. 

I made myself believe it was because he was my responsibility while he was at my place. 

Then he sniffed. His head darted to follow the direction of my hand and took that long sniff. His head moved forward and almost touched my hand had I not moved it away from her. 

I didn't have a chance to pull away completely when he grabbed my wrist and flattened my hand against his pointed nose. His eyes deliberately opened. It was forced, I could tell. He's still not wholly awake. He opened his eyes as if his life depended on it. And no, I refused to believe his life depended on my scent as he took a long sniff against my palm.

“What are you…?" 

He let out a guttural sound from the back of his throat. I felt the vibration from under my feet, and before I realized what was happening, I was off the ground — to the bed next to him. It was swift, and he was so strong that I had left nothing to do but gasp. Luckily, the bed was right by the wall so I didn't worry about falling off on the other side. But I did worry when the bed creaked out again. 

“What?" I exclaimed when I heard him mutter something under his breath. Then he gasped again when his hand moved to the small of my back and pulled me closer to his hard chest. "Hey! Keep your hand off me or—"

"Mate," he muttered. 

I froze. The voice in my dreams echoed in the back of my head. 

"Mate. You’ve made me wait hundreds of years; you must be p-punished!”

The man shifted on the bed to put both arms around me. I held my breath when the bed yet again complained. The man did not seem to mind. I panicked, fearing that he would crush my bones while he slurred in his sleep. Surprisingly, his hold on me was a contrast to his stiff muscles. He was gentle… and unbelievingly comfortable. 

"Be my L-Luna... B-Bear me an heir…  save the p-pack," he added, and the pleading tone was ringing in my ear not to notice. 

I also flattened my fisted hand against his chest as I recalled those words from my dream. Fear crawled in my skin as I pushed hard against him but his arms had become an iron around me. Just enough to keep me from pulling away but not too much as to hurt. 

This must be another dream. So I closed my eyes and shook my head repeatedly, only to see myself in the same situation when I peeled them open. 

"No way," I murmured breathlessly. "Wake up, Soraya. This is another weird dream. Wake up before you go insane with this brusque man—oh shit!" I gasped as he put his face against my neck. He was too close. D*mn close I could feel his lips against my skin. I could feel his constant sniffing of my scent. 

Too close, I could smell his musky, earthy scent. 

Too close, I was intoxicated. 

Soon enough, his tensed body calmed down. I thought he fell unconscious again until he spoke in a slurred voice again. 

"I… Primitivo O' Cleirigh, the last Maharlikan Alpha, accepts you…" the rest of his words were indistinct. I tried leaving some space for him to breathe but he did not allow me to move one inch. I just knew the last words were a question, and I was curious to hear it. 

"W-What now?" I prompted impatiently and blinked at the nest of gray hair. I knew it was mine because mine was annoyingly frizzy. This man's hair was made of silk, I'm convinced.

"N-Name," he whispered. "Your name."

"Well, uh… I'm Soraya. Soraya Quijano—"

"accepts you…," he continued. Then he gasped. "Moon Goddess! This human smells so good!"

My cheeks heated furiously. I had never received such a compliment. Thanks to the strawberry-smell shampoo and the sweet scent of chamomile tea. 

"accepts you, S-Star—"

"Soraya," I corrected, frowning. "Wait, what is this? Accept to what?"

He groaned for what I believed was a warning or a threat but came out harmless because of his weak, gruff voice. "I… Primitivo O' Cleirigh…," he slurred the words. "Soraya Quijano to be…" 

And he paused. 

I heard nothing but his gentle snores. He passed out again, and his arms remained steel like an iron chain around me. 

I nervously chuckled at the ceiling. "Well… it's nice to meet you, too. I guess? Primitivo?"