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"Ahhh," her head bobbed twice in understanding, she used her fingers to separate those skins he laced together again, "Wolfariane. Wolfe." Pause, "I'll just call you the Big Bad Wolfe."

"You cannot call me that." Weird female. Is she always this fearless, or is it the drink talking?

"Just watch me, Scary Man." Her cheeks widened again.

He made a move to get up, but she tightened her limbs around him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him down until his face came really close to hers.

"You smell of death, arousal, and liquor so much, it is hard to make out any other scent. Do you always cream your panties for any man that holds you?" The wolf snarled. He does not like that at all.

"Mmh-mmh," she shook her head adamantly, "I'll have you know that I do not desire your gender that much," she slurred, "if I did, my love life, or lack of, wouldn't suck so badly."

His wolf purred like a cat. Since when does he make sounds like that?

Suddenly, she tugged on his neck. This brought his face down to hers—his nose down to her neck. That was when he scented it.

The scent of Mate.

The scent of an Alpha's mate.

His wolf struck out his tongue—Wolfariane's tongue—and licked her neck, twice. Mine.

That claim he laid before his brain even registered it, told him more than any seer ever will that she is his mate. He froze.

Suddenly, everything is starting to make better sense to him; his agitation when she was attacked, why he wasn't able to leave her in that restroom, why his other halves are so relaxed and contented with anything about her—including her smell of death and liquor. Finally, it makes sense why his body is reacting to hers, and why her arousal is threatening to drive him insane.

"Hell." This is not happening.

"Heaven." She drawled, oblivious to the battle the Alpha male on top of her is fighting.

He rose from her completely. Is this some kind of sick joke from the heavens? The moon goddess? His mountain lion roared in denial and rage.

Ismena began pulling her shirt up and her movements caught his eyes. "What do you think you're doing?"

Brown eyes narrowed seductively, "I feel hot. You are hot." Arms spread wide, a full grin split her lips, "I say we come together and set the bed ablaze! What do you say?"

"I say no." He gritted his teeth when his wolf clawed angrily in protest.

"Oops. You sure you don't wanna see this body?" Her arms gestured to her body, "You suuuure? You gonna regreeeeet this decision in the morning, Big Bad Wolfeeeee!" She sang.

"You will regret it more, female. You are not in your right mind."

"The best decisions are not made in the right mind."

He shook his head, turned, and stalked into the bathroom to clear his head.

In there, he reined in his beasts as best as he could, gritting his teeth. His fingers on the counter tightened. The mountain lion is striving to take form. He cannot let it. He hasn’t been so out of control in a long time.

Minutes later, with some form of control reinstated, he tried to survey his situation rationally.

He has found his mate and she is dying. And she is non-changeling.

Memories filled his head of a time he wishes never to remember ever again. After all these years, the pain is still deeply ingrained in him. The reason why his mountain lion is more feral than any other changeling's in Naturiah and his wolf is the most sexually insatiable, rough, and fierce.

How does he handle this? Can he handle this?

A few minutes later, he came out expecting to see her sleeping because of the silence of the bedroom, but she was awake. She smirked at the sight of him. "You are back."

"I do not have the intentions of taking a mate or having a child, least of all not a non-changeling mate because I have no liking for them, and most especially, not one who's drunk, sassy, and a trouble magnet." The woman is the complete opposite of him.