The lost mate
Chapter 85: Future planning

Chapter 85: Future planning

"Mark me?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Damien nodded, stepping closer to her. "Yes. Here, at this stone, in front of the ancestors who built everything you see. This is where I’ll mark you as mine. Officially. It’s part of the tradition, part of the ceremony my mother is so determined to see through. But it’s more than that to me."

She couldn’t help but feel a surge of nerves and excitement. "I didn’t realize it was so... sacred," she admitted.

"Mum wants to have a grand mating ceremony."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, curious. "Is she planning something extravagant?"

Damien chuckled. "You know how she is. Grand gestures, formal traditions. She wants it to be a full-blown event, with all the pack leaders invited. She’s even mentioned bringing in an orchestra."

"A grand ceremony? For us?" She shook her head, a slight smile tugging at her lips. "Damien, we already have a kid. Do we really need one?"

Damien shrugged, his lips curving into a half-smile. "I know. But it’s not really for us—it’s for her. She’s been dreaming about this since I was a teenager. I guess I just want to humour her."

Anne couldn’t help it—a sudden laugh bubbled up from her chest. . She recalled a conversation with Emily. The memory of Emily’s teasing words echoed in her mind, and she found herself laughing even harder.

Damien’s brows furrowed slightly as he watched her. "What’s so funny?"

Catching her breath, Anne wiped a stray tear from her eye and looked up at him, still grinning. "It’s just... something Emily said the other day. She said our love story is like Benjamin Button—you know, like it’s going in reverse."

Damien’s confusion deepened for a moment, and then a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Benjamin Button? As in, we’re ageing backwards."

"Exactly," Anne replied, still chuckling. "I mean, think about it. We’ve already had Ryan; we’ve been through the ups and downs, and now we’re talking about a grand mating ceremony like it’s the beginning of everything. It’s like we’re doing things completely backwards."

Damien laughed. "I suppose she’s not wrong. We’ve kind of done everything out of order, haven’t we?"

Anne nodded, still smiling. "First the baby, and now we’re going to have this huge ceremony, like we’re just starting out. It’s funny when you think about it."

Damien stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her waist, his face inches from hers. "Maybe it’s not traditional, but I wouldn’t change any of it. Would you?"

Anne leant into him, her hands resting on his chest. "No," she whispered, her voice softening. "I wouldn’t change a thing. Our story is... unique. It’s ours."

Damien’s gaze locked onto hers, his expression turning serious for a moment. "Good. Because I want this ceremony, Anne. Not just for my mother, but for us too. I want everyone to know that you’re mine. Officially."

Her heart fluttered in response, though she couldn’t resist teasing him a little. "You really think a grand ceremony is going to make that clearer than the fact that we already have a son?"

Damien laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "It’s for mum. She’d never let us hear the end of it if we skipped it."

Anne sighed playfully, resting her head against his chest. "I guess we can let her have this one."

Though Anne was sure Liana wouldn’t be so accepting of her.

"Speaking of Emily," Damien began.

Anne looked up from his chest, meeting his gaze as he continued. "How’s Heather doing?"

Anne’s expression softened, though there was a shadow of concern in her eyes. "She’s... coping," she said quietly, setting the papers down. "She started stem cell therapy a few weeks ago. It’s been hard on her, but Heather’s tough. She’s fighting."

"Would you like to visit?"

"I would love that," Anne replied with a smile, grateful for the offer.

"Then let’s make it happen," he said, his hand gently resting on her shoulder.

Anne tilted her head back to look up at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You’re really trying, aren’t you?"

Damien chuckled, his hand sliding down to intersect with hers. "I want to help. For you, for them."

"Thank you," she whispered, leaning into him.

Damien bent down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "Anything for you, Anne. You know that."

Damien pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Besides," he said, grinning, "it’ll give me a chance to keep an eye on Emily’s relationship with Chris."

Anne raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in her gaze. "Oh, so that’s your real motivation, huh?"

Damien chuckled. "Maybe. But come on, aren’t you the least bit curious about how that’s going to play out? I have practically lost my beta. Chris is never around."

Anne laughed; the sound was light and easy.

"He hasn’t even confessed to her yet."

"That idiot used to give me advice, and now he can’t even take his own." Damien shook his head in mock disappointment.

When Anne and Damien pulled up to Heather and Emily’s quaint house on the edge of town, Anne immediately noticed a shift in the atmosphere. There was a lightness to the place, an energy that hadn’t been there the last time she visited. The garden was well-kept, the flowers in full bloom, and the curtains of the small, cosy home were pulled open, letting sunlight stream through the windows.

Before Anne could knock, the door flew open, and Emily stood there, beaming, her eyes sparkling with relief and joy. "You’re here!" she exclaimed, pulling Anne into a tight hug. "I was wondering when you’d show up."

Anne hugged her back, laughing softly. "It hasn’t been that long, Emily."

Emily released her, her grin widening as she glanced over at Damien, offering a polite nod. "You’ve arrived just in time. Mum’s been in such a better mood lately."

The news filled Anne with relief. She had worried about Heather ever since the cancer diagnosis and the gruelling rounds of therapy. Knowing Heather was feeling better lightened the weight on her chest. "Is she home?" Anne asked, peering inside the house.

"Yes, she’s in the back," Emily said, stepping aside to let them in. "She’s been gardening again. Says it’s helping her feel more like herself."

Anne couldn’t help but smile. Gardening had always been Heather’s solace.

Damien and Anne followed Emily through the familiar house. When they stepped out into the backyard, they were greeted by the sight of Heather kneeling by a bed of lavender, her hands deep in the soil, tending to the plants.

Heather looked up when she heard them, her face breaking into a warm smile. "Anne, Damien," she greeted, standing up and dusting off her hands. Her hair was tied back, and though her face looked slightly tired, there was a brightness in her eyes that Anne hadn’t seen in a long time.

Anne moved forward to hug her. "Heather, you look wonderful," she said sincerely. "It’s so good to see you like this."

"I’m feeling better," Heather admitted, pulling back from the embrace to look at them both. "The treatments... they’re working. I didn’t want to jinx it by saying anything too soon, but the doctors are optimistic. And I’ve been feeling like my old self again."

"That’s amazing news," Damien said, his voice genuinely warm. He had always respected Heather, not only for her strength but for the way she had protected Anne and Ryan over the years.

"Thank you," Heather said.

They walked inside, and it was then Anne noticed a stack of old pictures and albums on the coffee table. Anne picked up a photo album and began flipping through the pages.

"Is that you, Heather ?" She asked, pointing at the picture of a young girl who looked around 15.

Heather walked up to her and smiled.

"Yes, that was me back in high school."

Anne’s eyes widened in awe as she continued to flip through the album; she pointed at another picture. It looked like Heather’s fmaily photo. She was with her parents and an older girl. Who looked a few years older than Heather?

"Who is she ?"

Heather’s smile faded slightly as she looked at the picture. "That’s my older sister, Emily," she replied softly. Anne noticed the change in Heather’s expression.

"You have a sister ? You never mentioned her."

Heather’s eyes glistened with emotion as she spoke, "We don’t talk much about her. She passed away when she was 18."