Page 65 of Met Your Mate

"I can do whatever I want," Luke sasses.

Freya waves an arm. "Be my guest. Maybe we'll get to see Remy kick your ass. He's got muscle."

I don't know what brought this side back out in our girl, but I'm so fucking here for it. It's like getting a glimpse of the fire we used to see back on campus before those assholes tried to destroy her.

"HEY!" Elliott roars way too fucking loud for the morning, causing Freya to twist to the left in her seat. "The only muscles you should ever talk about are mine, capishe?!"

She twists back around, looking between my brother and me before whispering, "Is he pouting?"

"Probably," Lucas responds. "I didn't hear sex noises coming from our shared wall, so he's probably just cranky."

"Have you guys forgotten about alpha hearing?!" Elliott yells out, making me cringe at his volume. "Luke, forget about Remy, I'll kick your ass."

Freya stifles a snort, and Casey's laughter carries from their position across the yard too. This. This is our future.

"Star, why are you out here so early? You scared the shit out of me when I went to check on you."

She stiffens slightly at my inquiry. "Am I not allowed to be out here?"

I frown. "Of course you're allowed out here. You can go wherever you want now, Freya. It’s just, as your alpha, my instincts scream for me to know where you are at all times."

"Talk about a red flag, am I right?" Lucas mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, leaning into Freya slightly.

Scowling at him, I push away from the tree and kneel at my girl's feet. "I don't mean it as a controlling thing, but so I can always make sure you are safe and happy."

"Oh," she says with a crease between her brows when I take her dainty little hands in mine.

I blow out a breath. "I admit Luke had to help me read you in the bond. He knew where you were and that you were content because he's put the effort into building your connection. I promise I will devote myself to our bond and learning all there is to know about it, okay?"

Freya's lips twist, confusing me while she gathers her thoughts. "I–I don't know how to do the bond thing, either. With Lucas, it just happened.” She gives him a sad smile. "And with Elliott, he established it for the both of us."

I hum and tuck an unruly flyaway behind her ear. "How 'bout we both promise to... reach?" I ask Lucas for clarification on how he's worded it in the past. He nods with a proud smile. "Let's promise to reach for each other and our bond will strengthen how it's meant to," I suggest with a little anxiety making me uncomfortable.

I'm putting myself out there, and if my mate rejects the opportunity to further our connection, I don't know how I'll take it.

Freya smiles, lifting my sinking stomach back into place. "That sounds good.”

Taking a chance, I kiss her hand and breathe in her vanilla almond bark scent, reminding me I still need to feed her.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

I would have assumed the previous conversation would have upset her more than my simple offer to let her choose what we eat. Freya's hunched shoulders and immediate dropping of her gaze remind me of the room fiasco last night.

"I—" she begins, only for that one word to wobble and her teeth to take hold of her bottom lip.

I think through every interaction we've had since she woke up in the hospital. She wouldn't wear anything besides the robe I told her to use until Casey physically handed her an outfit and requested she wear it for the plane ride. Then there's the water and food which I've noticed she will only have when we suggest she eat or drink. And last night with the rooms, she couldn't make a decision. It's like with every choice presented to her, she freezes.

"Freya," I start, but her eyes are flitting about, and a tremble has started up in her hands. "Omega," I rumble.

Immediately, her attention snaps to me, her scent spiking right along with the focusing of her eyes. It wasn't my intention to draw her instinctual side to the surface, but maybe that's best for this conversation.

"Tell me the truth, my beautiful omega," I begin, rubbing my thumb along the inside of her wrist as a gentle purr vibrates my words. "Are you uncomfortable making decisions?"

I watch in fascination as her pupils expand, then shrink to pinpoints again. I have only seen this physical representation of a designation coming forth in Beckett. It's incredible and intriguing.

"Yes," my omega whispers, tucking her chin to her chest. I want to encourage her to look at me, but she huffs out a breath that sounds like a hiss and snaps her head back up.

"They took all my choices. My aunt and uncle, then the academy. Ken," she growls, baring her little fangs. "I don't know how to decide things because I don't know what I want or like."

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