The Alpha's Mate (#1 Southern Werewolves Pack Series)

By zhensachiko All Rights Reserved ©

Fantasy / Romance

Chapter 77: Epilogue


A few months later,

Getting up from the bed was the hardest thing he did in his life. Not only the dream was better than reality, he was still unable to cope with her death. Cohen walked out of the room, heading to the kitchen. The everyday routine had always been the same, hoping it would take his mind off a bit. But months had passed, there were no changes with himself.

This cabin, he purchased not a while ago, had become his solace. Away from human civilization. Away from anyone. He knew his pack was still looking for him. Knowing Liam, the pack would be in good hands. Cohen didn’t know if he could return home because the place he once called home wouldn’t feel the same anymore.

He opened the fridge and took a bottle of beer before popped the lid up. He caught a familiar scent inside the cabin and didn’t bother to see who was there with him because he knew who it was.

“You looked like shit,” Amanda muttered, leaning against the wall.

“How did you find me here?” he asked without looking at her.

“I was once living in hiding like you are.” she took a seat on the barstool by the kitchen aisle. “Besides, I heard rumors from the town about this 'unnamed fighter' fought in illegal rings and won all the time. I thought I would check this 'unnamed fighter'.” she quoted the words 'unnamed fighter'.

He was still in shape except for the beard and the length of his hair. If she must say herself, Cohen still looked very good like before. Maybe he looked a bit older than his age.

"Until when you think before they realize that the unnamed fighter is an Alpha?"

"Was an Alpha," he corrected her. “Your hair is shorter. You didn’t wear white.”

She shrugged her shoulder even though he wouldn’t be able to see it.

“People changed after certain things happened.”

There was no car outside indicating she didn’t drive. There were many things Cohen didn’t know about witches. Maybe she could teleport or fly in the air.

He turned and faced her, “Vincent wasn’t with you?”

“After the funeral...” she paused. “We went separate ways. Different people cope differently.”

“I thought you two,”

“Bed Buddies. Not mate. He’s just protective like that.” Amanda got up from the barstool and scanned the place with her green eyes, “Nice place you got here.”

“You’re not here to see whether I’m alive or not.”

“No,” she turned briefly and resumed to check the place. "I heard enough stories to know you're doing just well around here. Witches are really good at hearing stories."

"You mean witches are really good not meddle in people's lives as long it doesn't concern their species?"

"Ouch," she put her hand on her chest mockingly. "You just had to make it personal. Those are them. I'm me. I'm different than them, you know that."

Cohen followed her into the living room, anticipating her next words.

“No TV? No radio? No newspaper? Where are you living, stone age?” she bombarded.

“Tell me why you are here, Amanda.” he ignored her previous questions.

“Something happened at your pack,” she replied.

“Liam could handle it.”

“Yeah sure.” she spun and met his gaze. “They had been trying to find you about something.”

“I’m not ready to go back there yet.”

“You’re not but you don’t have a choice either.” Amanda walked to the door, her hand stopped on the doorknob when she said, “Someone took Mira’s body.”

To be continued,


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