Fated to a human

Liam POV  

The tension in the room was suffocating. It felt like a heavy weight pressing down on me, making my stomach churn as nausea coiled in my throat. My wolf had retreated deep into my mind, unable to handle the scent, leaving me grappling with emotions I didn't entirely understand. 

Haylie had been right—there was something there. 

I'd smelled it earlier but tried to dismiss it, convincing myself it couldn't possibly be her. But when she said period, the pieces finally clicked. My mind rewound to the awkward high school lesson on human biology: the monthly cycle, the release of eggs, the preparation for pregnancy. 

 Wolves didn't experience this; our bodies worked differently. Even my ex, North, had never dealt with something like this. 

But Haylie wasn't a wolf. She was human. And now, as she sat there, watching her quietly sipping on her tea, clutching the mug like it was her lifeline, I could tell how hard this was for her. 

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced myself to adjust to the scent. My appetite was long gone, but that didn't matter. What mattered was her. I took a deep breath, walked over, and sat down in the chair next to her. 

Running a hand through my hair, I finally spoke. "You were right," I admitted, my voice low and heavy. "I was hiding it. I didn't know where the smell was coming from, and when you said it at the table… I realized what was happening." 

Her grip on the mug tightened, her knuckles white against the porcelain. She looked up at me, her green eyes filled with vulnerability. "I just feel so embarrassed," she said softly. "Knowing you can smell this… it makes me feel like my humanity is stripped away." 

Her words hit me hard, a pang of guilt twisting in my chest. 

The last thing I ever wanted was for her to feel less because of who she was. I stood from my chair, then knelt in front of her, resting my hands gently on her thighs. 

Her eyes widened, clearly unsure of what I was doing, but I pressed on, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside me. "Haylie, listen to me," I began. "I don't care if my parents, or anyone else, can smell it. This—" I gestured gently to her. "This is what makes you…. you. It's part of being a woman, and there's nothing to be ashamed of." 

Her green eyes locked on mine, tears brimming at the edges. "I love you, Haylie," I said, my voice firm yet tender. "Every part of you—flawless or not, human or not. Yes, the smell is 

strong, and yeah, it's a lot for me to process, but it doesn't change how I feel about you. If anything, it makes me want to know you better, to understand you even more." 

I reached up, brushing my fingertips lightly against her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin. Her lips parted as she stared at me, the tears in her eyes finally spilling over. 

"Our worlds are different," I continued. "But this morning, you saw my wolf—the other side of me. And now, I want to learn from you. Every part of what makes you …you. Just like you're learning about me." 

The room was silent except for the sound of her breathing, shaky and uneven. I held her gaze, hoping she could see the sincerity in my words. 

 Slowly, she set the mug down and placed her hands over mine on her thighs, her touch soft but steady. 

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice breaking. 

In that moment, the tension between us melted away. She didn't need to feel ashamed, and I was determined to prove to her that, no matter how different our worlds might be, we could navigate them together. 

I took a deep breath, my gaze fixed on hers, unwavering. "My parents are still out there, so I'm guessing staying here is a no-go," I said softly. "But how about this? I'll take you home. Once we're there, I can make us breakfast—or order something if you'd prefer. Then, after that, we can cuddle up, and I'll help ease the pain however I can." 

Her face began to brighten, a faint glimmer returning to her eyes. "I've heard that having someone's warm body close can work wonders for pain," I added with a soft smile. 

A sparkle flickered in her green eyes as the last of her tears fell, leaving faint trails on her cheeks. She didn't say anything at first, but her silence spoke volumes. I stood, offering my hand to her. 

"Come on," I said gently, waiting until she placed her hand in mine. Her touch was soft but firm as she let me help her to her feet. 

While guiding her out of the room, I decided to mind-link my mom. Mom, I'm taking Haylie home. She's not feeling well. 

Her reply came almost instantly. 'That's okay, sweetheart. You don't need to explain. Take care of her.' 

Relief washed over me at my mother's understanding. It made things simpler. 

I turned my attention back to Haylie. "Let's grab your school bag, and I'll take you home," I said gently. 

She nodded, her lips curving into a soft, grateful smile. Together, we left the room, her hand still in mine. I felt a renewed sense of purpose. 

 No matter how small or insignificant my gestures might seem, I was determined to be there for her in every way I could. 

I decided to take the truck of my father instead of my bike. Since Haylie was still in pain and the wind on the bike was no good for her. 

I was eager to learn her world as human and what I have learn at school in human biological have far no compare to this. 

We arrived at the driveway of the red wooden house, the familiar structure standing steadfast against the gentle backdrop of the woods. I climbed out of the truck, shutting the door behind me. 

 By the time I rounded the vehicle, Haylie was already out, closing her door. She seemed eager to get inside, and I couldn't blame her—her heartbeat was rapid, a clear sign of the pain she was enduring silently. 

I followed her to the house as she led the way, unlocking the front door and stepping inside. She moved with familiarity, and I let her take the lead as we made our way up the creaking staircase to her room. 

Once inside, the scent of the old wooden furniture filled the air, mingling with her soft, floral fragrance. I took in the space, noting how it reflected her personality: simple, comforting, and uniquely her. 

Before I could say anything, we were joined by Aunt Camelia, who appeared in the doorway with a warm smile. "Haylie, you're back," she said kindly, her voice full of affection. 

I stepped aside to give them space and offered a polite nod. "Aunt Camelia," I greeted. 

Haylie's face lit up despite her exhaustion as she walked over to her aunt, embracing her warmly. 

It was clear the bond between the two women was deep and unshakeable. Even though they weren't related by blood, their love for each other radiated like a comforting glow. 

"You must be starving, or have you eaten?" Aunt Camelia asked, her tone a perfect blend of concern and care. 

I stepped forward, clearing my throat slightly. "We both haven't eaten yet, and I was thinking of making Haylie breakfast—something she could try from what I usually make." 

A small smile tugged at Haylie's lips, and I noticed the faint flush of her cheeks. She looked down, a bit shy, and before I could say anything else, Aunt Camelia raised a brow, her smile warm and curious. "Liam, I didn't know you could cook," she said with a teasing tone. 

I returned her smile, polite and genuine. "My mom taught me a lot, and Aunt Anny, our chef, made sure I learned plenty too". 

 I might be rich, but I wasn't spoiled—I can take care of myself if I need to. 

Camelia's smile grew, clearly impressed. "Well, we've already eaten, but if you'd like to cook, I can show you where everything is. You can make breakfast for yourself and Haylie." 

She stepped out of the doorway and into the hall, motioning for me to follow. Just then, Haylie spoke up beside me, her voice soft. "Aunt Camelia, while Liam makes breakfast, would it be okay if I freshened up quickly?" She glanced between her aunt and me, her green eyes hesitant yet hopeful. "If it's okay with you, Liam?" 

My heart skipped a beat. Why was she always so polite, so thoughtful? She could have simply gone without asking, but that was Haylie—always considering others before herself. 

It was one of the many things I loved about her. She wasn't just selfless; she embodied humanity in a way I hadn't seen in anyone else. 

I smiled, shaking my head lightly. "Of course, Haylie. Go ahead." 

Camelia chimed in beside me. "Of course, sweetie. Take your time. Liam and I will be in the kitchen." 

Haylie nodded, relief and gratitude evident in her expression. She turned to me one last time before heading upstairs. I caught her gaze and smiled warmly. "I'll see you downstairs for breakfast," I said gently. 

She returned the smile, then disappeared into the hall. I watched her go, a mixture of admiration and love swelling in my chest, before following Aunt Camelia downstairs. 

 Camelia POV  

As we made it downstairs, I couldn't help but think how proud Olivia would have been to know that Liam had grown into a young man who could cook, just like his father. Olivia had always struggled in the kitchen, but Mathew, had been the real chef of the two of them and now his son was just like his father. 

 It seemed he had passed that skill down to Liam, who not only knew how to take care of himself but also showed the same steady determination and kindness as his father. 

When we entered the kitchen, I gestured toward the stove. "The stove is over there," I said, pointing it out before walking to the fridge. I pulled out some eggs and milk, placing them on the counter, then added bacon and sausage to the mix. Grabbing a couple of pans from the cupboard, I handed them to Liam. 

"This pan works best for the eggs," I explained as I placed it on the stove. I turned on the gas and added a splash of cooking oil. 

"Thank you, Aunt Camelia," Liam said warmly, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. 

I smiled at him and walked to the toaster, sliding in two slices of bread. "Would you like some coffee?" I asked, grabbing the kettle and filling it with water. 

"Yes, please," Liam replied, already getting to work. He moved with ease and confidence, clearly comfortable in the kitchen. Watching him felt natural, as if this wasn't the first time he'd done this. 

As the kettle began to heat up, I noticed him glance around. "Where's the salt?" he asked, pausing briefly to look at me. 

"Top cabinet to your left," I answered, gesturing toward it. 

He nodded, quickly finding the salt and seasoning the eggs with a practiced hand. The smell of sizzling bacon soon filled the air, and I found myself smiling. Liam's quiet focus and skill reminded me so much of Mathew—it was a comforting sight, one that made me feel proud to have him here caring for Haylie. 

I gathered three mugs from the cupboard as the kettle began to sing. Liam's voice broke through the kitchen's quiet hum. "Haylie won't drink coffee. She'd want some Camellia tea," he said with certainty. 

My eyes widened in surprise. How did he know about Haylie's love for Camellia tea? Then it dawned on me—he was observant and clearly attuned to her preferences. Or perhaps he understood her need for comfort today, given her situation. It all made sense. 

I pulled out the Camellia tea, placing a tea bag into one mug, and filled the other two mugs with coffee powder and sugar. 

After pouring hot water into each, I added milk to the coffee while leaving Haylie's tea to steep. Picking up Liam's mug, I placed it on the island near him. "Your coffee is on the island," I said. 

He gave me a quick glance and a polite nod. "Thank you," he replied, his tone sincere. 

His manners were impeccable, I thought, as I retrieved two plates from the cupboard. Placing them on the table alongside forks and knives, I added the freshly toasted bread to the side plates. 

While arranging the table, I glanced over at him, casually stirring the eggs and flipping the bacon with practiced ease. 

"You know," I started, walking back to the toaster, "it's Haylie's sixteenth birthday tomorrow." 

Liam's eyes widened, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face. "You're kidding me," he said, shaking his head slightly as if trying to process the news. 

"Nope, I'm not," I replied with a small smile, cradling my mug in my hands and feeling the warmth seep into my skin. I walked over to him by the stove and leaned against the counter. "I figure she didn't tell you because she doesn't want to make it a big thing." 

Liam's brows furrowed, his expression turning serious. "But why? You only turn sixteen once," he said, his voice laced with concern. 

I took a sip from my coffee, savoring the bittersweet taste, before responding. "She feels alone," I said softly. "Every time her birthday comes around, she misses her parents and wishes they could be here to celebrate with her." 

The weight of my words seemed to sink into him. 

 His shoulders slumped slightly, and his eyes softened with a sadness that mirrored my own. "I don't blame her," he said heavily. "But she should be celebrated." 

 I could see the determination sparking in his eyes now. This boy cared deeply for her, and it showed in every word, and every action. Whatever he was planning next, I knew it would come from the heart. 

I took a sip from my mug, feeling the warmth seep into me, and then looked over at Liam. "What she needs is love. And I know you're the right one for her, the one who can show her that she deserves to be happy and to celebrate her birthday like any other sixteen-year-old girl." 

I could see it in Liam's eyes—he had something planned. 

 He shared that same determined look his father, Mathew, often had when he was up to something. It was a subtle but telling resemblance. 

"You're right," Liam said, his voice steady, but his mind clearly elsewhere. "She needs to feel like a normal sixteen-year-old girl." 

I watched him for a moment, noting how focused he was, then turned my attention back to the stove. To my surprise, the food was already ready. Liam had done an excellent job. As he busied himself dishing up the meal, I decided to get a few things ready for Haylie. 

 She was going to need her water bottle and a bed warmer to help with the pain, not to mention some painkillers. I knew how much she suffered, and I hated seeing her in such discomfort. 

Before I left the kitchen, I turned to Liam. "You'll be alright?" I asked, making sure he was okay with everything. 

He gave me a reassuring nod. "I'll be fine from here. Thank you, a lot, for the coffee and the toast," he said, his tone sincere. 

I smiled at him, genuinely grateful for his quiet strength, and then left the kitchen to gather the things Haylie would need. It was the least I could do for both of them.