Page 34 of The Beta's Blind Date

“So,” I say, handing her the blueberry lemon cookie. “I found a law. A werewolf kingdom law. It states that even if unranked in their former pack, as long as a werewolf has undergone a full warrior training program, they can request a warrior challenge in any pack they transfer to, and the challenge has to be scheduled within two weeks of the request, or the alpha must automatically grant warrior status to the challenging wolf.”

She swallows hard, her eyes widening. “Are you shitting me?”

“No. I may joke about a lot of things, but not about this. This isn’t a joking matter.”

“That motherfucker,” she growls, her lips pulling into a snarl and her fist slamming onto the table. I wince and grab her hand to keep her from doing it again and destroying the furniture. I’ve gotten in trouble for doing that too many times growing up. “So, you’re telling me I could have been a Silver Ridge warrior this whole time? That I didn’t need to work my way from the bottom of the training classes to prove myself?”

“As long as you scored well during the challenge, yes. Based on what I saw today, I don’t see why you wouldn’t earn a passing score. There are a few things you can improve on, yes, but nothing major or that will take more than a few weeks of work to fix.”

“But…” She chews on her lip, then takes a deep breath and continues. “Was Maddie going easy on me today?”

“Maddie? No, she knows better than that. She may be the pack princess, but she’s never gotten away with slacking off on her training. Alpha Harrison had high standards for his children—for all of us, really.”

My thumb runs over her knuckles as I speak, and her eyes flick down to where we touch, to where the warmth and the tingles of our bond she can’t feel spread up my arm to my heart, calming my wolf who is as angry about all of this as she is. But as soon as her eyes land on our joined hands, I pull away and grab my phone out of my pocket.

“I uh—I took a picture of the law,” I say, showing it to her. “I can send it to you, if you want. That way, you can find it easier. I’m sure your pack’s library has a copy of the laws, too.”

“Thanks, that would be great,” she says, her voice breathy.

I swallow and shoot the picture off to her in a text, then put my phone back in my pocket. She looks over it once it’s delivered, zooming in and reading through the wording of the law.

“Okay. Okay,” she says as her eyes scan it over a few times. “Okay,” she repeats one more time. “So, can we meet at the same time on Thursday?”

And just like when she text me to ask if the training offer was still on the table, I’m replying to her before I can think things through.

“That sounds perfect.”

Chapter 12

REID

OurdrivebacktoCrescent Lake is uneventful. We chat the entire time, but it is mindless—small talk about mundane things like movies, food, and music. But I’m not paying much attention to the conversation.

Instead, I’m focused on her, on her presence and her scent, on how it fills my car. I glance at her as she talks, examining her as she stares out the passenger window and watches the trees as we pass them. I’m thinking of how that sweet peony, strawberry, and peach aroma will linger in my car for days and the conflicted emotions that thought elicits in my heart, soul, and brain.

My heart beats for her. Every pulse of the organ pumping blood through my body since the moment I realized she was mine has been for her. Not because I want it to be but because that is what the mate bond does. Turns wolves into saps.

And my soul—my soul longs for her. Both the wolf part and the human part.

But my brain? My brain is the one part of me that is sane. The one part remaining logical. The one part that understands and remembers why I can not give in and have her.

Even with all of that, even with that knowledge, I am debating if I should use my car as much as possible over the next few days until Thursday, so I can smell her scent whenever I want. Or if I should leave it alone, leave it so the scent remains trapped inside and as strong as possible for as long as possible.

Before I know it, we pull back up to the packhouse, and I park my Mustang next to her blue Subaru. She’s leaving, heading back to her pack. But that thought has my heart clenching and my wolf howling. My hands rub the steering wheel, and I take one more deep breath of her scent.

For my wolf. Only for my wolf. That is the only reason I need to hold on to that scent.

“I really do appreciate you doing all of this for me,” she says, staying in her seat and keeping the seatbelt on.

Maybe I’m not the only one reluctant to separate. Or maybe I am projecting my hesitancy and inner turmoil onto her.

“It’s really not a big deal,” I say. “I am more than happy to help.”

Especially since it means I get to spend time with you. Get close to you. Touch you.

Fuck, I need to pull it together.

“I know, but I’m not from your pack, and you’re going out of your way to help me. Taking time out of your day to train me, doing research for me.”

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