Page 14 of Her Second-Hand Mate

My tongue now knew the velvety texture of his earlobe, the heat of his mouth, the slight saltiness of his neck.

I heard both our hearts beating wildly, I heard our breathing, the moans we both made, the helplessness in both of our cries as we succumbed to the all-consuming pleasure of having each other so completely.

I heard my name whispered in his soft voice as if it was the answer to some unspoken question, repeated again and again, but I also felt it glide across my body like a feather.

When he stilled above me, I finally dared to open my eyes. Dominic was still breathing heavily, and for some reason, he seemed more vulnerable than ever. I could feel how happy and sated he was, but he was also embarrassed about something.

“I’m sorry.”

“About what?” I frowned.

“That it didn’t last longer.”

“How long was it supposed to last?” I asked.

He smiled and shook his head slightly.

“Nevermind. I’m getting in my head about things. Let’s get cleaned up,” he got up and helped me to the bathroom, where he threw the towel in the laundry basket and led us into the shower.

He gently cleaned my whole body with a washcloth and some soap while carefully keeping my hair from getting wet. He then quickly washed his body as well. He pulled my body into his under the covers and turned the lamp off without a word.

My last thought before falling asleep was how wonderful it felt being connected to him like that, body and mind, and how I couldn’t wait to experience it again.

3

May 20, 2021

Dear Nana,

It’s been a crazy month. I know you’ve probably been worrying about me, so let me assure you that I have settled in nicely, and the knives are all in place so you can relax. I’ve also cleaned the house top to bottom as soon as I moved in, so I’ve done everything the way you taught me to, and it has helped me get used to the space a bit.

Moving to a new house and a new pack is much more stressful and time-consuming than I had imagined. And becoming Luna of a pack on top of that? When others do it, it seems so easy.

Luckily I have my mother-in-law, Florence, to help me navigate the process. She is wonderful and I am aware how lucky I am that she is not mean like your mother-in-law was. (May she rest in peace.)

She came to meet me as soon as we arrived in Greylock, and then came to our house for dinner the week after that. I made your beef stew with homemade bread, and both she and Dominic really liked it.

Florence wanted to know all about my trousseau, since I had finally unpacked it and put all the things up. She didn’t know that it was our mating custom, so she and Dominic then asked me all sorts of questions about how long each piece took, what made me choose certain colors, where I learned to weave, embroider, and sew, and so on.

Here, the males and females go to high school together, and they are all taught the same skills, so our ways seem odd to them. Many of their females choose to work outside the home.

I thought back to the dinner in question.

Florence really loved the tablecloth I’d made and Dominic asked, “How many hours did this take?”

He was really quiet after I’d told him it took close to 80 hours of embroidering for the tablecloth alone.

“And did you think of anything specific as you were working on it?” he asked after a while.

“I – I imagined the pieces in their future home. I imagined my future family eating meals at a table set with this tablecloth. My life with my mate, you know,” I trailed off, my face heating.

Florence started talking about the mating customs of her old pack, Spruce Mountain, and then I asked about Greylock’s, and they both kind of froze.

“From the age of 15,” Dominic finally said, “we write monthly letters to our mate, which we give them upon meeting them. This helps them learn about us, but it also lets them know we’ve been thinking of them before we knew them.”

I felt a pang of hurt at the thought that someone else had already gotten letters that were supposed to be mine. Dominic absentmindedly rubbed his chest as Florence looked between the two of us with a worried look on her face.

The neighborhood we live in is really nice. On one side, our neighbors are the Beta couple, Elliot and Grace Ripley. She’s from Colorado and I like her a lot. Our other direct neighbor is Lillian Phelps, the pack chef. She’s widowed with grown pups who’ve moved away for work. Her food is amazing! And it made me remember Mary, so please tell her I said hi next time you see her.

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