Her Chosen Mate

Part 49

POV Marcus

The day that Aria left had been difficult.

Marcus had spent most of the day running through the woods in his territory, mapping and then re-mapping them in his head. He didn't need to: he knew every rock and every stream better than anything. But it helped to keep him and his thoughts distracted for a while.

That is, until he found himself on the porch of his old home, trying to ignore the scent of his dead mate and their son.

He let his surroundings drip into his awareness, feeling the wood beneath his huge paws, letting the familiarity sink in.

He hadn't really noticed anything in the last five years, having been consumed by guilt and grief whenever he visited his old home. So much so that he'd stopped visiting entirely, choosing to visit the graves he'd made for his dead family instead of the site of their deaths.

It hadn't helped much. In fact, it had probably made his grief that much sharper and his guilt that much more acidic. Refusing to step into the place he once called home, the place he returned to each day to find Helena wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, her belly growing so quickly, had taken a toll on him. With a resigned huff, he sank to the floor, his claws catching on the chipped wood of the porch.

It had once been so pristine, both him and Helena making sure to take good care of their home together. He remembered spending hours on that very porch, the wood varnish staining his fingers, splinters embedded in his skin, polishing the wood until he saw his reflection in it.

Helena had always had a gift for interior design, something she'd wanted to pursue before she fell pregnant. He'd always encouraged her to go back to school once their pup arrived, promising to look after him while she was studying. She'd only laughed that soft, breathy laugh of hers and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

It had been those kinds of memories that had been the most difficult to come to terms with. He'd always been so eager to talk about their future, to imagine and plan all the things they would do as a little family, from teaching their pup to ride a bicycle to trips to the beach Marcus had grown up on.

But Helena had never really shared. his enthusiasm for it. And it had made Marcus wonder if maybe a part of her knew that she wouldn't make it past her pregnancy.

In the first year or so after their deaths, that thought had carved out chunks of Marcus' heart, making him feel even more guilty for the resentment he felt towards her for knowing she would leave him all alone. He'd howled at the full moon, pain ripping his vocal chords apart, pain ripping his vocal chords apart, crying because she'd known, she had to have known, and yet she never once thought to warn him. Had she been too selfish and wanted to spend her last years in happiness with him? Only to cause him immeasurable pain once she left?

He'd known that those thoughts had been fueled by hurt and grief, and the fresh sense of abandonment that rippled along the edge of his mind had slowly become a brand new insecurity.

Marcus knew he'd have to tell Aria about his dead mate and their son when she came back.

He knew and yet he fervently prayed that he could leave it in his past and never have to bring it up ever again. He didn't want Aria to look at him differently, he didn't want to see pity in her eyes. He wanted her to grow to love him the way he was sure he'd started to love her. He also didn't want her to feel obligated to stay with him out of a maternal instinct to 'fix' him. He wanted her to be happy with him.

In their short time together, Marcus had never felt the sheer happiness he'd felt when he was with Aria. It was something that he knew was special. Almost on cue, his mind offered up small flashes of memories, the times they'd spent knew was special. Almost on cue, his mind offered up small flashes of memories, the times they'd spent together that had changed his life irrevocably.