Page 46 of A Beta Protects

I ignore the conversations, the laughter, the questions filling the tent as I take my time unwrapping this unexpected gift.

I set the paper aside, flip open the box lid and the scent of her would’ve brought me to my knees if I wasn’t sitting on the edge of my bed.

There are weight limits and items not allowed to be sent to soldiers and Marines. I saw the list, heard those rules in basic, and then later, before my first deployment. I was given a copy of the list to pass to any family members who wanted to send me anything.

I took the list, nodded that I understood, and tossed it in the trash at the first opportunity. No one would be sending me a thing.

The contents of this parcel is perfect.

A plastic container with a screw-top lid of homemade cookies. I can tell because they’re not perfectly shaped. I like that they aren’t. Shows that she made them with her own hands.

The best thing of all, everything smells like Kira.

If I’d been alone, I’d have lifted the box to my nose. I’m not alone, so I close the lid, set it under my camp bed for the moments I need to remind myself that I have a mate, and that she’s thinking of me.

Another box comes the month after.

Then another.

I made her think I wanted nothing to do with her, but the boxes keep coming, each one lovingly wrapped, my name carefully handwritten, something sweet baked from her hands, something warm, something useful, and a short letter telling me about something that happened in her day which put a smile on her face.

My paws slide and my shoulder slams into something. A tree.

My wolf snarls, and I return to the present.

I’m soaked through. The rain is getting heavier by the minute, and it’s time to put an end to this run.

I turn back.

My clothes are a sodden mess I don’t even attempt to force on. I left them in the forest near the house instead of the outbuilding, needing to get away from the memory of Kira lying on the straw beside me.

Bending to scoop up my sodden clothes, I swipe the rain from my eyes and head to the house to dump these clothes in the washing machine and borrow sweats from one of my packmates.

I’d prefer to sleep in the outbuilding, but I need a hot shower, dry clothes and something to silence the growl in my belly. It’s late. The only people I’m liable to bump into are my packmates since I’ve noticed Kira has a tendency to go to bed early.

I step out from the forest and jerk to a halt.

This night, Kira has not gone to bed early.

She’s sitting on the top step of the porch, wearing the same dress as before, feet bare, hair loose, with her arms wrapped around her knees. I know that spot well. I spent years sitting right there, hoping my mate would come find me.

But to see my beautiful mate there, in that same spot, freezes me.

Her eyes are wide as she slowly pushes herself to her feet, and her gaze is hungry as she sweeps them over my naked body. There’s no hiding what seeing her—and smelling her—is doing to me.

Not while naked.

Her breath hitches and her fingers curl. She must be digging her nails into her palms.

“Go back inside,” I call out. My voice is unsteady and breathing ragged as second by second, I forget how to be a gentleman. “Please go back inside.”

She doesn’t move.

I will her to go because I can’t be the one who walks away from her.

Not with the way her nipples are pebbling the front of her dress, as the rich scent of her arousal floods my senses.

Not with the memory of watching her climb up the ladder so fresh in my mind.

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