The Lone Wolf's Rejected Mate (Five Packs, #3)

by Cate C. Wells

He takes a step forward, leaning closer. No one is near enough to overhear, but still, he pitches his voice lower when he says, “There’s been no one since I noticed you.”

Is this how it’s going to be from now on? Me chasing him?

My frightened eyes cling to his vaguely panicked ones,

It strikes me, hard in the sternum, how freaking lonely it must be to be him. It stops me in my tracks.

strong and proud despite the obvious toll of the years, standing tall, almost defiant, in front of this fairy tale cottage he’s built with his own hands. The hands that tore apart the men who hurt me. “You built it for me,” I say, my voice strangely soft. “I got the idea the first time I noticed you,” he says.

“You knew then?” His jaw clenches. “I stayed away.”

Again, my heart hurts, thinking about all the years Darragh spent out here alone. I shift so my leg presses against his. His thigh tenses, but he doesn’t move.

Would he have been able to make me understand? I don’t know. I don’t really know how I’m getting it now. It didn’t come over me all at once.

I wind my arm over Darragh’s and twine my fingers in his. Through the bond, I feel his tension seep away. He couldn’t talk to me, and I couldn’t listen. A fated pair.

“You built this house for me.” He jerks his chin. “And for our pups.” He nods again. “You thought it would end up like this?” I ask. He shakes his head. “Not in a million years.” “But you built this anyway.” He glances away,

This male belongs to me. He came for me. He bailed, but he didn’t leave me. He’s been around.

Darragh looks at me like I’m a terrifying and unpredictable creature that could bring him to his knees at any time. Slowly, he follows my lead and lowers himself to sit on the floor, too.

He nods, very serious. It’s so strange, a male as dominant and rough and weathered as him, sitting on the floor with me in this girly room, intent on whatever I say. It makes me feel strange. Cracked open. Precious.

“I don’t blame you anymore for what your wolf did.” Darragh’s teeth clench. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t meet my eyes. It’s clear, he doesn’t give himself any grace. “I don’t think he’d do it again.” I’m not sure why I think it, but as soon as the thought pops into my head, my gut knows it’s true.

His wolf isn’t mad. He’s ferocious and bloodthirsty and unmerciful, but he does things for a reason, and he likes my wolf. More than likes her. And he’s not stupid. He would understand that hurting me would hurt her. He wouldn’t do it.

A growl sounds in Darragh’s throat, and by the timbre, I can tell it’s him, not his wolf. Now, his flashing eyes find me. “No,” he sa...

“He’s in here, isn’t he?” I tuck my hand between the buttons of the worn flannel I’m wearing, pressing my hand to my own chest, to the place where the bond flows bet...

He’s already shaking his head. “No, Mari. Don’t get ideas. I’ll keep him away. You don’t worry about it.” I raise myself up on my knees, pushing the box to the side so it isn’t a barri...

“He’s yours, too?” The gold rings around his irises light up. I nod. “I’m yours?” He rumbles the syllables. I nod again. For a second, we balance on a precipice, lungs frozen, gazes locked, trying to read the truth in each other’s eyes. Longing to believe. Scared to reach out, scared to hold on.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again,” he says, and I know he means himself, too. “I know.” I reach out and brush my fingertips across his soft bottom lip, and I smile for him, so he knows what I mean—he’s not alone anymore. “You’re my mate.” I’m his. I choose him. This. Us. A sharp growl erupts from his throat,

“You’re mine,” he whispers against my cheek. “You’re mine,” against my temple. “You’re mine,” on my forehead, along my hairline. “Yes,” I exhale,

“I guess I’m not going anywhere,” he says. His voice is happy and ragged. I do this to him. I make his eyes sparkle and his heart thump.

He’s keeping himself very still, as if he’s afraid the slightest move will frighten me away. I sit back up with a happy sigh. I love this. The wild male is completely tame for me.

“Say it.” We scrape our fangs across his skin. He folds his arms around us. “I’m yours,” he says, and we sink our teeth into him, taste his blood as he bucks his hips, driving in to the hilt with a snarl of victory.

He works me, and I ride him, sending the waves cresting inside me higher and higher as I lap at my mark, and he digs his fingers into my shoulders, holding me to him as if nothing in the world could ever make him let go.

“Say it again,” I pant. “Yours,” he rasps. “Always yours.” I wrap my arms around his straining neck, clinging for dear life, taking him, taking it all, trusting him with...

As I gaze down into his eyes, my palms propped on his pecs, I see a flash of pure gold. It’s the wolf. He’s watching me, peering out from wherever he’s been banished.

There’s no rage or bloodlust in his gleaming gaze, not like the night I fled from him. He’s calm. Interested. He wants this, too. To be close. Held. Trusted.

I smile into Darragh’s face and curl my fingers, lightly pricking his skin with my nails. The gold glitters. My wolf purrs under my ribs. My bite is vivid and raw on his neck. For a moment, I catch a glimpse of what perfect would actually be. All of us. Whole. A family.

It’s a dream. I don’t have them anymore. But I could. If I were brave enough. If I dare.

It takes everything I have not to beg him to take me with him, and it takes him a few false starts before he can leave me.

bolting for me without a second’s hesitation, arms thrown wide to protect me from the darts he must have heard coming, knowing it was a trap, knowing he didn’t have a chance, but still racing for me full tilt, brave and stupid and unstoppable.

I know in my bones that Darragh would die for us both.

I am not leaving half of him behind. Not like I was left.

I know exactly what I’m going to do. I only hope that once it’s done, he forgives me.

He wants Mari’s wolf out here now, though, but he doesn’t howl to the sky. He’s proceeding with a caution he’s never shown before. He doesn’t want her mad.

He’s so different than he’s been my whole life. The rage is there, bubbling under the surface, the need to hunt down the humans who paid to terrorize my mate and eat them, feet to head, but he’s not driven by it. He wants something else more.

howls, but only once, and with what I can only call restraint. If he could speak, he’d be calling her name. Respectfully.

He leans down to bump her with the flat of his head. She nips his neck. He tenses, and very deliberately, bares it to her, waiting on tenterhooks, a raw growl resonating in the back of his throat.

There’s no living being to see Mari’s wolf trot at my side, but my wolf is as puffed up and proud as if we were running with the pack.

He keeps darting glances at our bite mark, the pink peeking through her clean white fur. He’s pleased that she’s not matted and bloody anymore, but he wishes it wasn’t healing so quickly. He considers sinking his fangs in again, matching the marks, but even before I lunge for the skin, he discards the idea. She’d fuss. He doesn’t want that.

As we make our way through the woods, I let myself relax a little. He’s a different animal with her. I’d call her a leash, but her company doesn’t chafe. She’s more like a balm. She eases the clamor in his brain, cools ...

My wolf stalks over to her, much more nonchalant than he feels inside. He’s amped up. Totally stoked.

My wolf is immediately horrified by what he’s done. He actually seems to be considering handing back our skin. He’s drawing back when Mari’s wolf lets out an indignant yip and scrambles up and over the side, toppling into the pool with flailing limbs and yelps. She immediately begins to shake her coat, sending a spray of water in all directions, including my wolf’s. He opens his mouth to howl a warning and gets a cold, wet mouthful.

My wolf takes it without batting an eye, stretching his back legs so he’s even lower, and like she’s reading his mind, Mari’s wolf scrambles up his side and splays herself across his back, tucking her nose into the crook of his neck.

He’s never been like this before. Content. Happy. At peace.

Mari’s wolf’s neck is arched back; my wolf’s is curved down. Their eyes meet. It’s silent deep in the cave, but it doesn’t feel lonely. It feels secluded. Like nothing else exists but us. Nothing threatens. My wolf relaxes, sinking to his belly.

I have to protect her. It’s the only thing that matters. Get this horrible thing that lives inside me as far from her as I can. Don’t let it touch her.

Go back. There is no way. I’m not letting him near Mari. Go back. My wolf speaks louder, but still, he’s not pushing for our skin.

Mari’s safe. I got us away in time. You left her. Go back. Fury, hot and swift, rushes through me. My burning muscles seize with the force of it. I want to fight him, shove him out of our body, kill him so he can never hurt her, so I will never be that fucking terrified ever again. I kill her enemies. He flashes an image of Smith’s skull into my brain. “You’re fucking mad,” I spit.