Page 35 of The Beta's Blind Date

I shrug. “It’s not a big deal.”

It’s totally a big deal. Because of who she is to me. Because of the indecent thoughts flitting through my mind when she’s around and because I want to act on those indecent thoughts. But I can’t, because I can’t lead her on, and I can’t let my wolf get attached.

“Well, at least let me find a way to repay you? At some point?”

“Just kick ass in your warrior challenge and show that dickhead Alpha Dominic you aren’t someone to be held back. That you aren’t a wolf to be trifled with. That you are more than he thinks you are.”

She smiles and giggles, then gathers her things from the floor of my car. “I guess I should get going.”

I nod and purse my lips. Otherwise, my wolf might push me to ask her to stay. For forever.

“Thanks for the lunch. And the cookies,” she says, lifting the box I bought for her before we left since she loved the salted caramel ones so much. “I’ll see you Thursday?” she asks, even though we have already established we are for sure meeting again on Thursday.

I nod. “Yep. Thursday.”

She unbuckles and leans across the center console and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Thanks again!” she says, opening her door.

I am frozen in place. The press of her lips against my cheek leaves a searing heat behind, and my wolf whimpers in my head, begging for more of her touch, begging to feel her lips against my lips instead of against my cheek. I inhale—a fast, sharp noise—and she freezes, too.

Her head whips around to stare at me, her eyes wide. “Fuck, I’m sorry! I didn’t—I wasn’t… That doesn’t count, right? As breaking rule number one? Since we’re not fucking? And it wasn’t on the lips?”

“Nope,” I say, shaking my head, my throat tight. My hands shake, and I flex them against the steering wheel, hoping to hide the trembling. “One hundred percent doesn’t count. Only counts with females I fuck.”

I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince her, myself, or my wolf. I’m not sure I’m convincing anyone at all.

She gives me a smile and opens the door. “Bye, Reid!”

I lift my hand in a wave, and she shuts the door and hops into her own vehicle. I stay in the Mustang, not moving my head but watching her with my eyes as she drives away, watching until I can no longer see her blue Subaru in the distance.

She’s gone. She’s gone, and I am already counting down the seconds until she is back.

What is wrong with me?

“Goddess fucking damn it!” I yell, slamming my fist against the steering wheel.

This is all a big, jumbled, tangled up mess. I am no closer to figuring out why she doesn’t feel the bond than I was three days ago. All I have done by being close to her for the better part of the day is get my wolf’s hopes up.

But I can not back out on her. I made her a promise. I promised I would be there for her, promised I would help her out so she can earn her rightful position as a warrior.

And I know she will. It is just going to cost me my sanity.

I jump out of the car and head towards the tree line. I have taken a run in wolf form twice already today, but it seems a third run is in order. It is the easiest way for me to clear my head. Well, other than sleeping, which has not been easy to do since meeting Taryn.

My library search, while fruitful for training methods and that sweet little clause I found in the warrior laws, yielded no results for why she may not feel the bond. Everything I found on the mate bond was stuff I already knew: mates both have to be twenty-one for the bond to fall into place, a rejection must happen under the full moon, and wolves must mark their non-werewolf mates under the same phase of moon present when they were born. But nothing about why one mate might feel the bond and not the other.

It also provided me with an unneeded reminder of why my wolf has been more active and present in my mind—because I’ve met my mate. Unlike lycans, who have more of a “personality,” if you will, werewolves are more of an instinctual presence in the back of our minds.

That is until we meet our mates. Once we meet our mates, our wolves become more active and present, pushing us to be near our mates, to keep them close. Their primary instinct is to protect and mark, and if the human’s actions are not in line with those instincts, the wolf becomes restless.

Which is what’s happening to me.

And the information I found about smaller than normal wolves was not helpful either. It is usually something that runs in families, but it can also result from a genetic mutation. Either way, it is rare, but apart from being small, it does not affect the werewolf in any other way.

I need to get out of my head. I need to run, need to focus on anything other than Taryn and Taryn’s scent and Taryn being my mate. I need to exhaust myself and my wolf so I can get an actual full night of sleep, the way I used to before I met Taryn. My mate.

I have the hem of my shirt in my hands and I’m about to tear it over my head when a mindlink from Wesley comes through.“Where are you? You’re going to be late.”

“Late?”

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