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I can live with our current level of backwards, but I’m not going face down, ass up because some higher-ranking male wants to scratch an itch. Screw that. I’ve got cash in a jar buried behind my cabin. I’ve got options.
Then she rises up on her tiptoes and kisses him full on the mouth. He goes rigid. He doesn’t avert his eyes. He’s looking at me while she sucks his face.
He knows why. Mates know each other instantly.
Killian’s words ring in my ears. What have I done for this pack? Endured it for twenty-seven years.
dichromatic.
“I yanked the mate bond out of you.” She waggles her arched eyebrows. “Didn’t touch his now, did I?”
He doesn’t really joke. To be honest, back in school, I always thought he was kind of dense. I had a few classes with him, and whenever the teacher asked him a question, Tye or Ivo would call out the answer.
I hate that he gets whatever he wants, and does whatever he wants, and everyone shows him their neck and kisses his ass, and he still needs to stand here in front of my home and call me crazy and stupid.
Maybe Fate miscounted and had one female left over when she paired everyone up.
Maybe there’s something wrong with me that makes me fundamentally unlovable.
My wolf flops and wriggles until his upper half is plastered to her lower abdomen—her womb, where she’ll grow our young. Is that the wolf’s thought? Mine?
I can’t imagine living anywhere else. The ridge, the ravine, the river, the caves, and the foothills. The seesawing mountain breezes and valley breezes. It’s my territory. It runs through me like veins, connecting all my parts to the earth. But I also wish I was a million miles away.
It needs to be done, so therefore, I can do it. That’s my mantra.
I wouldn’t want him. He has no sense of humor, and he’s boring. His interests, as far as I can tell, are the shifter circuit, boxing, MMA, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, cardio, strength training, and “bulking.”
Even if he weren’t a massive dick, I wouldn’t be into him. He’s not my type. My wolf disagrees, but she’s judging on different criteria—mostly smell.
We talk about life. Leaving. And why we stay.
Killian was nineteen or twenty, and not anywhere near as articulate as he’s become, and he mostly grunts and curses now.
“You’ve got an alpha wolf enthralled. How the fuck did you do it?”
thrall.”
“You taste so good, baby. Let’s go back to my place. We’ll get this out of our systems.”
And I don’t want a ‘with benefits’ kind of thing. Or any kind of thing with you.” “What’s ‘with benefits?’” he asks. “And you’re not in my system.” “Hold up. Go back. What benefits?”
She needs to be in our bed.
But my wolf and I are in perfect accord on one thing. Her safety comes above all else.
If I were to fall in love, she’d be an alpha. A badass with big ol’ titties.
He said witches dance between raindrops. Any male who thinks to control one doesn’t understand nature.
“Did you ask her?” Did I? I definitely did. Didn’t I? She said I wasn’t. She agreed with me that she wasn’t. I search my memory for the exact words. It’s never this hard with males. I hate semantics.
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t bring that bullshit into my house. That’s just how backwards folk justify behaving like animals to each other.”
mote
“You do not have the right to take my mate from me.” “You have no claim over something you so carelessly threw away.” “Put the bond back.”
You have cost me my young, witch.” “You cost yourself. It’s your head that’s stuck up your ass.” My wolf rumbles, and she hurries to add, “And we don’t know that for sure. You could always, I don’t know, woo her. The moon works in mysterious ways.” “Woo her?” “You know. Dates. Flowers.” “That’s human shit.”
“You’re exiling me?” She arches an eyebrow. “I’m advising you. You can come back when my mate’s belly is round with my young.”
What the fuck is Una doing in town? Who is she with? When I get my female, I’m tying her to my bed. No wooing. I am alpha. She is mine. And all this bullshit is gonna stop here and now.
“You dare touch what’s mine?” It’s a roar. He’s an enraged alpha.
“You don’t look at her.” Killian steps to the side to block me from view, puffing his chest, broadening his stance.
I want him to die and fall in a deep hole and go flying out the other side of the world. I want someone to ruin everything he worked for. I want him to have to ask permission and sneak around and hustle for every penny because he doesn’t have a choice.
He’s glowering, all put out because I broke his rules. That’s the worst thing that can happen to him. Somebody gets a little out of line. Maybe earns a little something for themselves that he didn’t provide. He’s such a big man, he has to keep everyone else small.
If I had a knife, I’d plunge it into his throat and listen to him gurgle, and then I’d laugh, too. I’d laugh and laugh.
“How long have you been doing this?” I shrug. I’m busted. What does it hurt to tell him? “Almost ten years.” “You’ve been sneaking off pack territory for a decade?” “I’ve been driving a truck five miles to a farmer’s market to sell honey and jam.” I snort. “I’m a criminal mastermind.”
“I’m thinking that I have a mate,” he says softly. “And she’s cold and angry and sitting in the dirt. I’m thinking I’m an asshole.”
“Like I have another heart, and I didn’t know I had it, and now I do.”
“Have you always been this salty, shy girl?” His lips are turned up at the corners. “You know everything. You tell me.” “I like a mouth on a female.”
I hold my head high as I pass him. I refuse to cover my butt. He’s seen it before. And he can kiss it.
“No male wants a female with a smart mouth.” “Don’t want you either.” I stare straight ahead. “And you said you liked a female with a mouth on her. Earlier.” He barks a laugh. “So I did.” His smile is slow to fade. “So I did.”
Maybe not consciously, but something inside her—maybe her wolf—recognizes that in our pack of two, she outranks the hell out of me. If she ever realizes the power that gives her, I’m fucked. But I can’t bring myself to mind.
Shy does not exclude fierce.
I cut each one off before they have the chance to get started, but they all come too close. And apparently, too close is within five feet of Una. Then ten and then twenty.
I need to put babies in that curved belly. I need her to smile at me. I need not to have fucked up the best thing that’s ever happened in my life before it even happened.
I had accepted that I would always be alone. But acceptance is a stage of grief, isn’t it? It’s not joy. It’s not right. A part of me knew this was out here, waiting.
Una. Mate. Unhappy. Fuck. “Or a week or so. Maybe a couple days. I don’t know.” I glare at Una.
It’s little Mari who answers. “She did it so that we would have nice things. Something to look forward to, you know? And we helped. So if you punish her, you have to punish us.” A tear dribbles down her cheek. If Darragh Ryan knew I was here, making his mate cry, he’d kill me. Good thing he’s still hiding from her up in the hills.
