As Min entered Sergen's tent, she pressed her clenched fist against her mouth, desperately trying to stifle any noise. She stood there, head lowered, grappling with conflicting emotions—uncertain whether to burst into tears or laughter, both options appearing equally undesirable. In the silence, she closed her eyes and focused on the outside world, straining to hear any signs of movement. For a while, everything seemed still and stagnant. Then, the spell was broken—the distant murmur of voices reached her ears, the rustling of footsteps in the underbrush, and even the chirping of birds resumed.
Letting out a sigh, Min raised her head and opened her eyes, only to find Sergen standing right before her.
Startled, she jumped back, emitting an audible gasp. "Don't startle me like that!" she whispered sharply, sidestepping him. The tent provided ample space for her to stand upright. The ground beneath her feet felt soft, covered with grass and foliage, while his bedroll lay unrolled.
"What do you mean?" he responded, turning to face her. "This is my tent."
Min took a moment to study her man in his human form. He stood almost as tall as she remembered, his presence solid as if hewn from a blend of dark stone and chiseled bronze. His manhood lay flaccid amidst his gray curls, which were distinct from Erkin's, as if Sergen had prematurely gone gray for some unknown reason. He displayed no sign of being flabby or awkward, a fact she was grateful for.
"So I've been told," she retorted. Min felt a surge of anger and jealousy, remnants of her encounter with that woman—whom she refused to name, for some inexplicable reason. "I was also informed that you chose me." Turning toward him, she crossed her arms. "Is that true?"
Sergen nodded. "As I told you the day we met. I made no secret of it."
"You conveniently neglected to mention that your 'choice' of me meant becoming your mate!" The last word hissed from her lips as she advanced toward him, jabbing a finger into his broad chest. "You could have at least disclosed that before... before you claimed me in that pit." The memory, which Min struggled to suppress, caused her chest to tighten and a warm sensation to ignite in her belly.
He appeared to contemplate her words and nodded in acknowledgment. "Very well. I admit I should have informed you, but I did not. I apologize for that."
"You—" Min tilted her head in surprise, looking up at him. She blinked. "You're saying you're sorry?"
Sergen shook his head. "No, I'm not sorry for claiming you as my mate without informing you beforehand. I could have done so, but I chose not to."
"Why not?" She furrowed her brow. "My mother is probably worried sick because I'm gone. I received this mark because of you." She tapped the rough patch of skin on her shoulder, adorned with Ilay's intricate magic and inkwork.
"I had hoped to heal its infection, but I was unsuccessful," Sergen explained. "You were wounded by an infected bear, and whether I claimed you or not had no bearing on that." He remained composed, unfazed, as if he had a rebuttal for every complaint.
Regrettably, he was right on that count. Min looked down and sniffled. "Well... perhaps not. But why did you do it?" She looked back up at him. "You were the first man I ever met. You didn't have to mate with me at the first opportunity."
"No, but I wanted to." Now it was his turn to tilt his head, displaying a hint of confusion. "You were desirable and available; you were injured, and I attempted to heal you; you were a witch woman, and I had a need for that, as I explained before. I brought you here and sought a healer to tend to your injury. Haven't I been a satisfactory mate to you?"
"'Satisfactory?'" She threw up her hands. "You didn't even know my name when you brought me here! I asked for your name, and you couldn't even be bothered to tell me that!" Taking a seat on the bed, her frown persisted. When he joined her and sat down beside her, Min resisted the urge to inch away. "And now I find you with some woman in your tent, and I don't know what she did with you while I wasn't looking. I've never been away from home in my whole life, and I..." Min closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to regain her composure.
"Who, Selin?"
She opened her eyes, giving him a stern look. "Do wolves have multiple mates?"
He blinked, displaying a distinctly wolfish reaction, she thought. "Some might, but I do not."
"Have you claimed her? Slept with her?"
"Not for a long time," he replied, unflinching and maintaining eye contact.
"She desires you. I could see it in her eyes, her longing for your touch. Do you understand that?"
He nodded, remaining silent.
"I don't know how wolves handle these things." Min took a moment to gather her thoughts, deciding how to express them. "I know how my mother and I lived together, and I believe... I could find contentment here. Ilay has been very kind, and her husband and son seem equally so."
Again, he nodded. "They are good people."
"Let me finish."
Sergen closed his mouth, once again nodding in response. His intense, golden-brown eyes remained fixed on her, causing her to take another calming breath—his presence had a more profound effect on her than she cared to admit. "They may indeed be good people. This entire place could be filled with good people. However, I will not share a tent, a bed, or a man with a woman like Selin. Not under any circumstances. If you cannot come to terms with that, I will assist you in your fight against the bears to the best of my ability. And if we both survive, I will let you have her and return home once our task is complete."
"I don't want Selin."
"...You don't?"
"No." He furrowed his brow at her, still appearing perplexed. "I rejected her before I set out to find a mate, I rejected her when I returned with one, and I saw no reason to change my stance."
"Oh." Min paused, taking a breath. Her hands trembled, and she clasped them together in an attempt to steady herself. "Why? She is..." She struggled to find the right words. "...not unattractive—at least physically; she desires you; she is a wolf, like yourself—"
"I don't want Selin," he reiterated. "If I have no desire for her, I do not want her as my mate. We shared a bed once." His lips tightened, revealing the most emotion she had ever seen from him. "Once was more than enough."
"I... I suppose that makes sense. But why do you desire me then? We have only known each other for two days."
"Is it a requirement among witch women to have prior knowledge of the man they intend to mate?"
"Well..." Min hesitated. "I am not entirely sure. I don't believe so."
Sergen frowned. "Then is it a personal requirement? Is it something that other humans typically do?"
"I simply meant that—"
He rubbed his neck, a pensive expression crossing his face. "I was unaware that witch women had such peculiar customs when it came to mating. Although I did hear that Ilay pursued Erkin for months when they were young. Perhaps I should have expected some peculiarity."
"No."
He paused. "No?"