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

by Cate C. Wells

He rumbles in my chest, but he lets her go. And he doesn’t deny the accusation. He accepts it without argument. Without shame. I had to be.

We’re alone—the wolf and I. But that’s not exactly true.

I have to be what I am, too. And I am Mari’s mate. I belong with her, and she belongs to me.

Easy to reject, easy to abandon, easy to leave behind. Not worth trying. Not worth the risk. Fuck Darragh Ryan. Fuck this.

There’s no sign of Darragh. I can’t scent him on the wind. He’s gone. I drove him away. He didn’t even try to stay. I fucked up. I pushed too hard. No, no, fuck him. I’m done. This is over. No more. I can’t pick my pieces up again. I can’t reach out and grab nothing. Again.

Tracking the animal. Alone. Waiting up in the stand or lying on his belly in a hollow, alone. Walking down into camp to give it to me, even though I wouldn’t take it. Walking home. Alone. No acknowledgement. No encouragement.

How many treks did Darragh make to camp, gift in hand, to leave with nothing? More than a hundred at least. He came back. Because my mate is strong. I am, too.

My wolf settles, down for the ride. She knows we’re heading in the right direction. I’m not surprised when a heavy tread sounds from the direction of camp. I felt him coming back to me.

I clench my shaking hands. Tears flood my eyes, blurring my vision. “You left.” “I did.” He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything else, only stands there stock still, as if he’s steeling himself.

it’s unfair that we both feel this, and it crushes me, but not him.

He grabs my wrists, snatches them midair, and tucks them to his heart. “Enough, Mari,” he says. “I’m back.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me I shouldn’t have done it?” I ask. He jerks his chin no. “Why not?” He looks up from my hand, the gold rings around his irises blazing, and when he finally speaks, he does it through clenched teeth, like he’s in pain. “I’ve wanted him not to be broken, too.”

I rest my palm on his solar plexus where our bond connects, and it flows over my hand. Strong. Certain. No matter how much we mess up, it doesn’t stop. The reality of the bond has never comforted me before the way it does now.

“You didn’t bail,” I say. “I did.” His rough fingers move to smooth the corduroy straps on my shoulders. They’re already lying flat. “But you came back.” “I’ll always come back.”

His fingers still, and his eyes find mine. “I will fuck up, but I’ll come back every time. If you’ll have me.” His jaw tightens. “I’ll come back even if you won’t.”

“Because you’re the light of my fucking life. I would do anything for you. Stay away. Come back. Anything.

He won’t let himself fall asleep up here in bed with us. He waits until Cait and I are both dead to the world, and then he heads down to his bedroll in the shack. Sleeping with us in the family bed is one of our two perpetual disagreements.

I’m happy we spend most of our time out at our place. I wouldn’t like the pack females seeing the smiles, figuring out he’s the world’s biggest teddy bear, and losing their fear of him. Apparently, I am insanely jealous.

His gold and bronze and brown patchwork wolf lies there in his place, sprawled on his side, wide awake. He’s watching Cait, his tail flicking back and forth. He raises his bright eyes to me. My body tenses, my adrenaline spiking, but I’m not afraid. I know this wolf. He knows me. We belong to each other, too.