Page 7 of Owning His Mate

“You’re a fucking dick,” Archie snaps at me, shoving my shoulder. I barely move with the impact, but he isn’t deterred. “I hope she rejects you, asshole.”

That burns worse than anything he could have said to me. Rejection? Fuck, for a wolf, that is a death sentence. Fated mates don’t have the luxury of refusing a mating bond.

“Why the hell did you have your hands on her?” I snarl this question at Beck, ignoring the wound Archie delivered.

“I was teaching her to defend herself.” He glares at me as his brother offers a hand to him and pulls him up. “I didn’t think she needed it, but boy, was I wrong.”

The insinuation that Apryle would need protection from me pisses me off. “I would never hurt her.”

“You already are.”

“It stops.Now.”

He glares at me. “That’s not your decision, Kye.”

“If you touch her again, I’ll tear your fucking arms off and beat you to death with them.”

I don’t have a lot of people here—unsurprisingly—but Beck was one of the few I might have considered as a friend, at least before this incident.

Jealousy rages through me. How long has he been training with her like that? How many times has he touched what’s mine? It’s irrational, I know this, but I can’t stop these dangerous thoughts.

As much as I want to drag the answers out of him, I don’t have time to waste here. I need to go to my mate. Until this bond snapped into place, I wasn’t scared of a single thing. Now, terror floods my veins, and that vulnerability infuriates me.

As I go to step around him, Beck grabs me, and instinctively, I grip his throat. It would be so easy to squeeze the life out of him that I ignore Archie’s calls for me to let go, focusing instead on Beck’s granite stare.

An arm wraps around my neck from behind, and I’m dragged backward. The strength holding me in place is steel, and I have no choice but to let go of Beck as my feet scramble to keep purchase.

Dominance I’ve not experienced for a long time flows off this wolf as he says in my ear.

“You can hit me all day long, but while you’re doing that your mate is alone out there,” he says before he lets me go.

It’s probably a bad sign that he doesn’t fear my retaliation enough to keep hold of me, but when I spin to face him, attack isn’t on my mind. My mate is.

Those words whispered into my ear are sending more anxiety through me.

Where the hell is Apryle?

He stares at me, a calmness in his stance that is almost unnatural. I don’t recognize this wolf, but he is vargr. I take in his light blond hair and piercing eyes that are locked on mine with no sign of concern. He’s not as big as I am, neither in height nor bulk, but I get the feeling he will fight me if I push it.

My gaze slides past him to the small female at his back. She has bright blue hair and gray eyes that appear almost like a stormy sky. It’s a little disconcerting, and it drives a full-bodied shiver up my spine.

There is no fear in her either, and when I scent her, I understand why. She’s a tau—part witch, part wolf. Like my little mate.

“Go after her,” she says, her voice a lot softer than his. “Make sure she doesn’t do something stupid.”

The thought my mate might endanger her own life to escape me sends anger but also terror careening through me.

I never expected to find my true mate. Fated pairings are rare, or at least they’re supposed to be, yet she is here like a needle in a stack of needles, waiting to be found.

Waiting to be claimed.

I shoot a dark glare at Beck before I step around the mated pair, heading for the door with a renewed sense of urgency. I’ve wasted precious minutes here, giving her more time to run from me.

I stop at the door and grab a pair of sweatpants from the clothes bin. With so many wolves shifting around here, there is always spare apparel kept on hand.

Still settling them on my waist, I reach for the door handle.

“Asshole!” Archie yells after me. “You could have killed him! Callum should send you away, you crazy bastard.”

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