Page 2 of Mated to the Wolves

“I’m going to miss things how they are. When classes were the only real problem we had to worry about, and the parties and adventures were plentiful.” Her full lips curve up in the corners.

“Remember that time we drove six hours to see Florence and the Machine?”

“Yes, it was worth every minute of sleep nodding I did in classes that Monday.”

Kez lets out a loud laugh. “I pissed off Mrs. R so bad.”

“She’s not one to forgive snoring during her art history lecture.” I wag my finger, happy to see her bubbly personality return.

Breaking down the displays, I admire the floral stand to my left with the buckets depleted of their colorful blooms. They always sell well. I’ll miss the community I’ve found here.

From Sam and Martha, with their fresh fruit and vegetables from his farm, to Lila with her artisan soap. I catch a woodsy scent on the breeze. I stiffen. Looking around, I try to locate the owner.

It smells like the pack. Heart in my throat, I grip the edge of the table as my legs grow weak. Are they here?

“Earth to Ylva.” Kez waves her hand in front of my face. I jerk.

“You, okay?” She places a hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah?” I laugh at my paranoia. The pack spent my adolescence making it clear I wasn’t wanted or needed. Why else would they let a female wolf leave on her own? Even with the bribery I’d delivered with cash and pack by-laws to gain independence.

A viable she-wolf is a precious commodity. I’m defective and disappointing. A beta with little to no special skills born to powerful alphas. The sight of me reminded everyone of the failing health of our people.

In the past fifteen years, only six females have been born. Two were lost to the sickness decimating our females like a plague of locusts.

I step closer to Kez, soaking up her vibes while mourning the loss of my Aunt Ama and my childhood friend, Frida.

There’s a special bond between women I never got to experience as a young adult until I found Kez.

“Do you have your outfit picked out for tonight?”

“I don’t know, Kez. I was thinking of skipping this party.”

“What? No. It’s our last hurrah as college students. You can’t bow out on me.” She sits the tote down heavily and turns to face me.

I groan.

“We’ve worked our asses off to graduate. This is our time to let loose.”

“I know.” I nod.

“Besides, I already have your outfit picked out for tonight.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Along with your escort for the evening.”

Pursing my lips, I give her the stink eye. “I thought we agreed, no more blind dates.”

“We did. But this isn’t a blind date.”

“What would you call it, then?” I press the lid on the tote shut. She’s hell-bent on pairing me up with someone. I never explained the heartless rejection that sent me on a path of singledom.

For four days straight, I cried my way through a cross-country road trip I was never supposed to take alone. The journey broke something inside me.

Healing required grit, keeping myself insanely busy, and a wall between me and those who could hurt me. Except for Kez, who snuck in under my radar.

My scars tend to be a good meter. Most shallow people look right past me unless it’s to whisper. I know there are far worse ways to be hurt than rejection over an appearance I have no control over.

A survivor’s wound is a badge. I won’t be shamed about it. At the end of my senior year, the students had grown used to the fire damage on my display.

“A good time with a sexy man who doesn’t want commitment. Ethan knows he’s there to be eye candy with rhythm.”

---