Page 32 of His Wild Mate

“There's an order in place here that no one can touch you or harm you in any way.”

She nodded.

“That includes me. I can’t even hold your hand and it's driving my wolf crazy.”

Her hand was a little shaky as she reached out and took my hand.

I took in a sharp breath as our hands touched. A jolt of recognition shot through me, and my wolf instantly calmed. My hand was still in hers, still unable to fully hold her, but it was more than I had hoped for.

“How about that breakfast?”

Her wide eyes looked up at me hopefully.

“What do you like? I'm not the greatest cook, but I do well enough for myself.”

“I'm not picky,” she admitted. “Whatever you can spare is fine.”

I scowled, and a rumble of noise resonated deep within me.

She jumped back away from me, and I immediately missed her contact.

Sighing, I realized I was going to have to try not to react so primally. But when it came to her and her well-being that was already proving difficult.

“We have plenty of food, Paige. That's never going to be a problem for you again. I'll get whatever you like and make sure it's always stocked here.”

“I usually just eat berries for breakfast, or whatever I can forage for.”

“You’re a wolf. You can't survive off of berries and brush.”

She blushed. “I don't really like eating raw. I don't even like killing animals, but I will if I have to. I don't always have access to fire to cook it though, and it makes me nauseous to eat raw meat. I like it well done. I know that's weird for a wolf.”

“Not really. I don't know many who eat raw anymore. There's a theory that it makes us more feral, wild. Most shifters around here live like humans. We still shift and go for runs. It's a balance, but we eat and live more as humans than as wolves. How long have you lived like a wolf.”

“Most of my life,” she confessed. “I left my Pack when I was thirteen.”

“Why?”

“Because of the curse.”

“Curse?”

“What else would you call it? You saw how those people reacted to me yesterday. They nearly tore down your house trying to get to me.”

I gulped hard and my hand stilled on the handle of the refrigerator.

“This has been happening since you were thirteen?”

“Eleven. My parents tried to protect me as best they could, but when I was thirteen, they tried to sell me off to a friend of theirs and I ran away.”

I growled at the thought.

They wanted to prostitute out a child?

I suddenly wasn't so hungry, but I opened the fridge and rummaged for some sausage, eggs, and anything else I thought she'd like just to distract myself from freaking out over what she just said.

“I don't always live in my fur. Just when I'm in heat,” she said.

I glanced back at her and saw how embarrassed she was to admit that.

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