Page 23 of Dutiful Wolf's Mail Order Mate

Not words he would dare utter to Bowen. Not ones he’d offer our old alpha, either.

This was what pack was supposed to be. Not the rigid hierarchy and oppressive rules I’d grown up with, but this easy camaraderie. This sense of belonging.

Rafe turned to me with an eyebrow climbing high. There was a glint of mischief in those intense blue eyes that had my pulse kicking up a notch. “Well? You game, little wolf?”

A teasing challenge laced his words, like he already knew my answer. The nickname, that deep rasp... it stirred an ache low in my belly, one I tamped down with an exaggerated roll of my eyes.

Rafe’s arm slipped around my waist, tugging me against his side. His thumb slipped under the hem of my shirt and made slow circles on my hip, the perfect mix of chaste and provocative, shooting little thrills through my system.

“They’re a handful,” he murmured, his voice dropping low.

Fates, he smelled good. The scent of pine and leather enveloped me, his breath warm against my neck.

“But they’re ours.”

Ours. The word echoed in my mind, settling into my bones. This was my pack now. My family.

The knot in my chest loosened and a relaxing warmth cascaded down my shoulders. For too long, I’d been stuck in survival mode, focused solely on keeping one step ahead of whatever new crisis loomed. Having the freedom to simply... breathe, to make choices for myself—it was as daunting as it was enticing.

But this felt right. Drinks and pool, no keeping to the sides. No watching for offense with the wrong word or ducking out of the path of the high-ranking males. Just fun. Just living.

“Well? I thought you were bringing it on, alpha.” I slipped out of his grasp, fighting my grin and walking backwards toward the table and future glory. Kai talked big game, but he never liked to admit who taught him. “I’ll have you begging for mercy before the night’s over.”

Rafe’s smirked, his gaze darkening with promise. “We’ll see about that.”

CHAPTER NINE

RAFE

Sleep fell away in an instant, taking with it happy dreams of Maddy and pool tables. Clarity was slower to return, like swimming up from the depths of a dark, murky lake.

Something was wrong.

The quiet of the night was split by the shriek of the wind. The house creaked and moaned, the aging beams protesting against the fury of the storm. We’d made it back from Rusty Pine right before the rain began pelting down.

I held my breath, straining to hear over the lashing of the rain. Nothing. Just the soft rustle of sheets as Maddy stirred beside me. She mumbled something, too incoherent and slurred with sleep for me to make out the words.

I let out a slow exhale, trying to relax the tension coiled in my muscles. It was probably nothing. Just my paranoia kicking into overdrive. Not like I had anything to truly worry about. Just an ass-backwards, murderous pack of shits trying to claim my mate, a patch of land getting a little too crowded with other packs and clans, and a second who likely had ten different plans for my untimely demise should I piss her off a little too well.

My wolf prowled through my head, a low growl sawing in and out with my breathing.

I turned my head, gaze tracing over the delicate curve of Maddy’s shoulder in the dim light filtering through the curtains. She looked so peaceful, her face relaxed with sleep, her body curled on her side facing me. Something in my chest stirred at the sight, a protective instinct clawing its way through my unease. I resisted the urge to reach out and disturb her, to pull her close and bury my nose in her hair, breathing in her scent until it chased away all my doubts and fears.

Fuck, this woman. She’d barreled into my life and turned it upside down in a matter of days, and I was powerless to stop it.

Mate.

I’d watched firsthand the devastation that losing a fated mate could bring. My mother had never recovered from my father’s death, the light in her eyes dimming a little more each day until there was nothing left but a hollow shell. The thought of experiencing that kind of soul-crushing grief, of losing Maddy... it terrified me more than any physical threat ever could.

But even as the fear clawed at my throat, I knew I couldn’t let it control me. Maddy was here, warm and real and alive. I inhaled deeply, letting her scent wash over me, a soothing balm to my frayed nerves.

Mate.

My wolf howled the truth, and I lost my last bit of resistance to the word.

How many others did I scroll past in my search for my mail-order match? How many profiles went unread? How many long glances and slow smiles in bars from Mill Creek to Denver did I ignore?

But Maddy... One look at a grainy, cropped photo. One inhalation of the details she thought fit to include. Some part of me always knew she was the one.

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