Page 32 of The Wolf's Mate

My wolf is unsettled. If I’m being honest, he’s been unsettled since the moment Hettie arrived at our doorstep. It only increased during our mating ceremony. The hold this human has over me is both complicated and frustrating. I can’t turn my mind off. Can’t stop thinking about her.

The need to finish our bond is so fucking strong and painful.

And my resolve is growing weaker.

Hettie is afraid though. Afraid to give in to me. That much was proven by this morning and her mad dash to get away from me when Tallie caught us in our bedroom. I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if we were never caught. How far would it have gone?

I know Hettie wants me. The truth is in her body language and the way her desire scents the air each time I’m near. But I will not take a woman who isn’t completely willing.

If my Dove wants me, she’s going to approach me first. I’ve been a patient man up until this point. I can wait a little longer. I need her to be completely ready for me.

Because she is going to want me. That much is inevitable. She just needs to stop fighting it.

Hettie and Tallie walk ahead of Thorne and me, heading to the nursery. Grass trots between the two women, happy as can be. The nursery is my cousin’s favorite job in the pack, besides planning ceremonies, and Hettie has accompanied her as often as time will allow.

They don’t need Thorne and me trailing behind them, but I’m not eager to let her out of my sight. Even if that means I’ll play babysitter to a group of overactive pups. I would be lying if I said seeing her caring for the pups didn’t make me think of her belly swollen with mine.

Stepping into the nursery, laughter, crying, and the faint smell of urine assault my senses. “If you two are staying, you better make yourself useful,” Tallie says, tying her hair up into a messy bun.

“It’s hot when you threaten me.” Thorne winks at my cousin and narrowly misses my punch to the arm. Just because I gave them my blessing to mate doesn’t mean I want to hear them flirt.

Thorne just laughs at my reaction and follows Tallie to the toddler room. Grass goes with her, and instantly the small children flock to Grass, who preens at all the attention. Hettie stays with the babies, picking up a crying little boy. I watch her as she gently bounces the boy in her arms, cooing at him until he calms down.

“You’re a natural,” I say, startling her.

“Oh, it’s just because I’m an older sister.” She shrugs off my words. “My sister and I have a fourteen-year age difference, and I helped my mom a lot when my sister was a baby.”

This is the first glimpse I get of her family. She hasn’t offered much, and I’m not one to pry, but I find myself doing just that. “I bet you were a good older sister.”

“I wasn’t.” Her words come out soft, and she looks down at the sleeping babe in her arms. “Leaving was the best thing I ever did for them.”

“That can’t be true,” I say, even though I have no way to back my statement up. All I know is it brought her to Ender, which in turn brought her to me.

“You don’t know the type of person I was…am. Like I said the last time, if you knew, you wouldn’t look twice at me.”

“Why don’t you tell me what type of woman you think you are, Dove, and I’ll tell you the woman I see?”

Hettie scowls. “Don’t pretend like you know everything about me.” She turns from me, placing the sleeping baby into his crib once again before whirling back on me. The fire in her gaze ignites something inside me, and I smirk.

My human has found her claws.

She ignores me as she goes from crib to crib, checking on the other sleeping babies. There’s only four today, mostly the children of beta or alpha mothers. Omega mothers have a harder time separating themselves from their children because of their natural biology to care for their young.

“Are you just going to stand there like a fucking creep and stare at me?” she asks, finally taking a seat on the wooden rocking chair.

“Such language around children,” I chide.

Hettie rolls her eyes. “They can’t talk. Plus, they’re sleeping.” She waits for me to respond, and when I don’t, she groans. “Fine, stare at me. I don’t care.”

Something tells me she cares a lot, but I have played with her enough. I let the conversation drop as I take a seat in the only other chair available. It’s an atrocious combination of pink and throw-up green that is better suited for a child than my large body. It sags under my weight, threatening to break if I make a wrong move.

Hettie snorts. “You look ridiculous.”

I probably do, but I still frown. “Is this your attempt at asking me to sit with you? You just have to ask nicely, Dove.”

“First, I’m not a fucking dove. And, second, first come, first serve. Your big ass gets the small chair.” Her sinful lips, the very ones I kissed earlier today, quirk up into a flirty smile.

“You’ve been checking out my ass, mate?”

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