Page 103 of The Beta's Blind Date

I smile to myself and squeeze the hand holding mine, the hand spreading warm sparkles of gold through my skin, up my arm, and into my heart. It’s more intoxicating than anything I’ve felt before, more addictive than the strongest drug ever created. I want the sparkling tingles of gold to travel further, to cover my entire body and awaken my senses with its intensity, its pure pleasure, and love.

I roll onto my side and pull the hand closer to me, opening it and pressing it to my cheek, luxuriating in the tingles awakening under my skin from the touch. My wolf purrs and rolls on her back, tongue hanging out from both the pleasure of this touch and the deliciousness of the scent filling my lungs.

Mate.

The word rings through my soul and my mind, echoing over and over, bouncing off the walls of my heart, mimicking the rhythm of its beating.Mate. Mate. Mate.

The hand I’m holding, the scent I’m smelling—they both belong to my mate.

I freeze, torn. I’ve always wanted a mate, but I have my Cookie Monster now, and we were working things out. He was going to explain, and we were going to move forward. Do I give him up? Do I leave him behind for someone I don’t know just because there is a bond tying me to him?

My lip trembles and I squeeze the hand again, burying my face into the pillow, forcing the itching in my eyes away, bracing myself for the choice I’m going to have to make. But the thumb on the hand I’m holding brushes over my knuckles, the movement familiar and soothing.

“Hey there, Cadet,” Reid whispers, his deep voice rolling through me and dripping down my spine like hot wax.

The tears of frustration and disappointment threatening to fall switch to tears of relief. He’s the one in the room. He’s the one holding my hand. Somehow, he’s my mate.

I open my eyes and find him staring back at me, water lining his bottom lid. He’s so open, so vulnerable and handsome, and looking at me with raw passion and need. I’m filled with a wild, stormy range of emotions, both mine and his—guilt, regret, confusion, excitement, hope, and love.

My breath hitches and a tear falls from my eye, caught by his knuckle before it hits the pillowcase beneath my cheek. I push myself up to a seated position and reach for his cheek, touching it with my fingertips. Fireworks erupt on the pads of my fingers, and his eyes close as he takes a breath through his nose.

“I don’t understand,” I say, lowering my hand.

“We’re mates,” he says.

I scoff and swat at his chest, rolling my eyes. He flinches and chuckles a little, raising his hands to block my attempt at a second hit. “I mean, why didn’t we know before, Captain Obvious? It’s been three weeks since we met.”

His mood switches from playful to serious in a heartbeat, and he leans back in his chair, running his hand through his hair. “Someone has been slipping your pack an odorless, colorless, tasteless potion in your food. The potion mutes the mate bond. That’s why you couldn’t feel the bond. Because you’ve been ingesting this potion for who knows how long. Probably since you moved there.”

“My whole pack?” I ask, and he nods. “Are you sure?”

“Dr. Russo gave them all the antidote too—the members who are here, at least, and the ones at Ben’s pack are being given it as well—and several of them have already found their mates since receiving the full dose.”

“You saw them?”

“No, I’ve been in here since I brought you home—here—but I’ve been hearing the growls and shouts of ‘mate!’ for the last few hours. I don’t know if you’re aware, but us wolves can get quite loud when we claim our mate.”

“Why would someone do that?” I ask, shaking my head. “Why block everyone’s mate bonds?”

“I don’t know,” he says with a shrug.

He scratches his neck, tugging at the collar of the white T-shirt he’d put on at some point after he brought me here—he’d been shirtless the entire drive, his warm, muscular torso protecting me and cradling me, providing me with safety and comfort. He eyes me with caution, his hands rubbing on his thighs and clasping together as he releases a slow breath.

“Wait…” My brow furrows and I tilt my head to the side, staring at him as he looks at his hands. “You said ‘That’s why you couldn’t feel the bond.’”

He swallows and nods, still looking at his hands, and a stronger wave of guilt, bitter and heavy, hits me from his side of the bond.

My hands shake, and I clench them into fists as I replay every moment we’ve spent together. Every touch, every word, every utterance of “my girl,” my brain trying to figure out what my heart already knows.

“You knew?” I ask, and he closes his eyes but nods. “How long?” He flinches again—although this time he’s not playing, not teasing me, and his lips pinch together. “How long have you known I’m your mate?”

“Since I saw you sitting in Rendezvous on our first date,” he says, raising his eyes to meet mine.

A clawed hand wraps around my throat, squeezing and gripping it. My mouth gapes, opening and closing, unrecognizable sputtering noises spilling from my lips. “But… you-you—”

“Taryn—” He reaches for me, but I scoot back on the bed, glaring at his hand.

“Don’t.” I raise my finger in warning, swallowing against the vise grip on my throat.

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