I woke up in an unfamiliar place, an unfamiliar bedroom, in a bed twice the size of my queen sized bed and beneath a duvet which was ten times as plush. It was daylight outside, the sun was pouring in from the cracks in between the heavy, plain curtains. I had a slight headache behind my eyes and had to close them in order to try and recall what had happened.

The last thing I remember was talking to Michael. Dear goddess, I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I thought about him, about my behaviour.  About how my stomach had rumbled, really embarrassing and so we were going to get something to eat when...

Red.

I saw the colour red.

My eyes flashed open and my empty stomach reminded me that I haven't eaten yet.  My bladder also spoke of a more pressing issue and I climbed out of the warm duvet covers onto a soft, thick carpet.  My toes curled automatically in delight, before I looked around at the many doors leading off of this large room.  The bed and side furnishings were all dark wood of some sort, I think, with modern handles.  They carried a similar boxy kind of theme.  I liked it.

The first door lead into a large walk in wardrobe.  Lights flickered on in there the moment I opened its entrance way.  It was filled to the brim with menswear, but though I couldn't view colours still, I saw two very different styles, hung or folded.  One was simpler and more formal, plain, soft gradients and pinstripes.  The other was wild, with patterned shirts and tops, designer rips and belts meant for fashion purposes. I shut the door to the closet, hoping the light would turn off by itself.

The door beside this revealed an ensuite bathroom that rivalled the one to my parents master bedroom.  Mine had been only half the size.  It had side by side showers that shared one sheer wall of glass and a single door.  It had twin sinks, both with built in cupboards beneath the square shaped porcelain, but a single glass set between them with two toothbrushes inside.  There was a large free standing bathtub, which was circular in shape and seems to have jets as well.  And there was the thing I desperately need; the toilet.  It felt a bit rude of me to just 'help myself', but nature called. As I left the room, I took a deep breath and smelt the light cologne that Michael wears as well as a second scent.

Red... he said something about that person who I remembered as having red hair.  I wonder if the second scent belongs to him?  What did that mean?  I tried to rack my brains, but they refused to give me the answer, as if the fog had not quite lifted.

The last door to the bedroom was naturally the exit or entrance to the room.  The corridor was fairly wide and had another two rooms leading off of it as well as the stairs down.  I could hear pots and pans being moved as well as the steady tone of someone speaking.  I followed the sound, down the stairs and to the rear of the property.

"No, Michael," the voice was saying.  It was slightly higher in pitch than Michael's deep set tone, but it was still very masculine and I found that I enjoyed the sound.  "He hasn't woken up yet, babe."  Babe?  Was that a friendly term or an affectionate one... that reminded me again of what Michael had tried to tell me... if only I could recall.  "You'll be home soon, right?  You can check up on him then.  Alright, talk to you soon.  Love you." 

I stepped into the kitchen to see the length of that red hair running down the man's neck and shoulders.  It was so bright and vivid, just like Michael's eyes were in my world of grey and there was a reason I could see its colour, wasn't there.  That's right, I remember!  Michael said that this person was our other...

"Mate!" Oh my god, did I just say that aloud?

The man turned, hissing in fright and placed his hand to his chest as I backed away as well.  And then he grinned, a wide toothy sort of grin, which reached his eyes and caused them to curve just as deeply.  "You're awake!" He said, cheerfully.  "Michael was just asking about you!"

"Um," I fidgeted nervously.  This was very new to me.  No one in the pack, that I know of, ever received two mates.  Not only that, both of mine were both on the physically built side.  And I could see this man's compact biceps, as he wore a short sleeved top, whereas I could only imagine Michael's.  I felt the heat rising to my chest.  "What.. what exactly happened?"

He indicated that I should take a seat at the breakfast bar that lined the counter top where the eight ringed hob was situated.  "You crashed out," he told me.  "Michael thought I may have overwhelmed you or something.  Was it my fault?  Did I come on too strong?"  He looked at me with a pitiful expression and I found a smile creeping onto my lips.  I shook my head to reassure him.  It wasn't really his fault, I just... it was just so much was happening to me all at once and I guessed I couldn't deal with it.

"Was I out long?" I asked, nervously.  After all, the last time I fainted, I was out for a year.

"No, sweetheart," he said and I reddened at the endearment.  "Just a few hours.  I brought you home with me.  That was probably forward of me, but my tiger was just so happy to meet you."

"Tiger?  You are a weretiger?" I asked him as he opened the cupboard behind him and grabbed a couple of slices of bread and popped them in the toaster.

"That's right, sweetheart," he said.  "But don't worry, my tiger is a kitten in your palm."  His pupils elongated into slits and I heard a rumble like a deep purr coming from his chest.  It made me shiver in response.

"Should I ask how a weretiger and a werewolf came to be mates?" I was so curious.  Apart from the odd human and dwarf, I'd never heard of a wolf mating being cross species.

"Not a clue," he informed me with a bright, but happy grin.  "But it works for us.  Even more so, now you are here too."

Oh yeah, I was part of the mix now.  I thought my cheeks are going to be permanently stained pink or red or whatever colour they are turning as I thought about what else that implied.  My body wasn't adverse to this, though, it was becoming aroused by the idea.  The man froze as he sniffed the air and his graceful movement seemed to falter a moment.  Did he realise how I was reacting to him?  Werewolves could, I heard, scent arousal.  Were weretigers the same?  He didn't share whether this was true or not, simply grabbed the butter from the fridge and spread it thickly on the fresh toast.

My stomach growled as the aroma of the toast hit me and before I knew it, the plate containing the slices was placed before me.  I glanced up at him.  "Go ahead," he told me.  "You never ate lunch right?"  My stomach growled again and I dug in. My tastebuds tingled slightly as I bit into the toast, but I didn't think too much of it.  Too busy trying to convince the toast to detour my throat and go directly to my stomach somehow.  Obviously that isn't possible and a glass of juice appeared when I began to choke slightly after the attempt.

"Sorry," I said after the liquid had eased the spasms.

"Don't be," he said.  "I'll be making dinner in a minute, so you relax and take your time."

"Can I stay here?"  I didn't want to be alone, by myself in a strangers house, even if those strangers happen to be my mates.

"Of course, sweetheart," he grinned.  Again with the endearment, he sounded as if he had totally accepted me already and that he wouldn't reject me.  Could I really hope?  I bit into the remaining slice of toast as he moved around the kitchen with ease, my eyes automatically followed him around.  "Michael says that you are a cleaner at the hospital."

"Yeah," I replied.  My job wouldn't be a problem would it?  It was considered a bottom of the ladder sort of job, no matter how important it still was.

"He says that you clean like a demon," the man added, should I ask for his name again? I felt like I had left it a bit late.  "Michael's a bit of a clean freak, so I know he is complimenting you when he says this."  I felt warm inside, even though it was such a small thing.  It felt nice.  "I own a gym and he's always griping about my cleaning staff.  I even had to send them on a training course to improve standards just to attempt to meet his bare minimum."  I laughed at that, I didn't know Michael that well, but I could suddenly imagine him standing there with a white glove on or something, checking a corner and declaring it wasn't good enough.

He took my empty plate from me and placed it into the dishwasher.  "Do you like salmon?" He asked me and I had to shrug, it would taste all the same to me no matter what it was, but I appreciated that he asked me.  He began unwrapping the sealed fish, seasoning it, before topping it with a little butter and sealing it in foil.  He then threw new potatoes onto the boil.  "I'm glad you are here," he mused, "If Michael arrived before I started, he'd insist on..."

The front door slammed shut and the man himself called out; "What's for dinner, Eric?  I could really do with a juicy steak right now!"

The redhead rolled his eyes heavenward and whispered conspiratorially; "See what I mean?"  He made me laugh a little more and Michael entered the kitchen.  His shoulders seemed to relax when he saw me sitting at the breakfast bar and he unbuttoned his top button as he approached us.  I could feel the heat from his body as he stood beside me.  Eric gave him a joyful smile and his eyes seemed to twinkle for a moment.  "We are having salmon for dinner."

It's strange to see a large man actually droop like a wilting tulip.  "It's always fish with you," he grumbled and sat on the stool next to me. 

"Not always," Eric denied.  "I like poultry as well."  Michael continued to grouse, while I sat there quietly.  I haven't felt this contented in a long time... no, I don't think I have ever felt so contented.  If this is the gift the Moon Goddess offers her children, then was it okay if I accepted it with open arms?