Page 47 of The Alpha's Rejected Mate

Not many things induced me to admit that I was wrong. But … hurting her had me admitting it. My pulse raced and my expression turned serious again. I wanted to succeed in gaining her forgiveness. But I knew it would take more than words.

I asked, “Will you come for a run with me? I want to show you Ridge Bay.”

I caught her slack-jawed expression, but her lips tightened, and she hesitated.

“Please,” I said, my heart banging and my stare holding her with what I hoped told herhow muchI wanted to make things right.

“Okay,” she finally allowed.

That one reluctant word sent a jolt of joy through me. She tugged the door shut behind her, and I shot back up to my cabin, tugging off my shirt and feeling elated that I’d gotten her to agree to come with me. In a moment, my wolf was down beside the sandy-colored wolf, feeling even more thrilled as we took to the path together.

The sun was setting, its light glowing through the trees and throwing their trunks into sharp relief. Our paws pounded the path as we zipped and sped past the trees. I led her along the track, guiding her to where I’d planned. But I allowed Billie’s wolf to set the pace. Whenever she slowed, I matched my stride to hers.

The part of the forest I led her to was beautiful and full of mature, majestic trees that I imagined might have stood when Vana herself ran with the first humans who had begun our bloodline.

When we reached Ridge Bay, I led Billie’s wolf over to a huge cottonwood tree by the bank of the Gunnison. The canyon dipped down on our side of the river, giving an impressive view of the higher ridge on the other side from where the spot got its name. The water was deep here and didn’t rumble over jagged stones. Instead, its hum was a gentle backdrop.

When we reached the huge trunk, I shifted. With relief, my gaze snagged onto the picnic hamper by the foot of the tree. Aislin had come through.

“It’s just like her.” Billie had shifted into her human form, too. I thought she was referring to Aislin as if she knew she’d left the hamper. But then I noticed she was looking up at the tree.

I blinked as she stared up. “Her?” I asked curiously.

Billie looked flustered for a moment, then explained, “There’s this cottonwood near Hexen meadow similar to this one.” She laid a hand on the tree’s huge trunk, her hand and arm looking even more delicate on the huge tree. “I used to love climbing up into that tree. She’s the tallest one for miles around. Herbranches always gave me a great view of the meadow from which to watch the Dalesbloom Pack.”

“She?” I asked, a smile in my voice.

Billie shrugged one slender shoulder. “The female trees have green flowers, while the males have red.” She was trying to downplay how tenderly she’d spoken about the tree. But I’d cottoned onto the warmth in her voice. The tree she spoke held a special place in her heart.

I remembered how I’d mistook Billie’s being distant from the Dalesbloom Pack as something she’d chosen. Guilt moved through me for my misconception. I now knew for what good reasons she’d felt so disconnected from the Hexens and the other Dalesbloom packmates. That pack had never been hers. She’d never belonged there. And yet, I could all too clearly picture the girl and then the young woman who had climbed up into her tree, eager to spy the wolves that she longed to be a part of because of the deep-seatedneedto belong.

Protectiveness stole through me as I wanted to make up for all that she’d lacked in Dalesbloom. Fighting down the burgeoning feelings that had me wanting to sweep her into my arms and cocoon her away from everything and everyone who could hurt her, I turned my attention to the hamper instead.

I pulled out a pair of Billie’s jeans and a T-shirt. I wouldn’t have minded sitting around unclothed, but I’d been mindful of how shifting was so new to Billie, so I had asked Aislin to pack some clothes for us both.

“How did you—” Billie began.

“I stowed it earlier.” I was sure Aislin wouldn’t mind me taking the credit. I needed as many brownie points as I could get to make things up to Billie.

A smile lifted Billie’s lips, but her green eyes still had that preoccupied look, like the leaves of the forest canopy on a gray day. My heart squeezed as I realized how much I wanted to see them glimmering, full of that wonderful light she’d gifted me with before.

Once I’d tugged on my own jeans and T-shirt from the hamper, I pulled out a picnic rug.

I smoothed it out and said, “Have a seat.”

Dressed, she settled down on the blanket, gazing out at the river and the canyon ridge beyond.

I poured us two glasses of sparkling grape juice and got out the strawberries I’d had Aislin pack. I’d noticed over the last couple of weeks that Billie didn’t ever have any of the beer or wine when offered it, so I’d opted for sparkling juice.

I fought past the unease that prickled over me as quiet descended. Only the gentle wash of the river’s current sounded. I’d brought her here to give her a proper apology, though, and gathering myself together, I endeavored to voice it.

Forcing past my obstinate nature and the stubborn energy my wolf added to it, I admitted, “I’m sorry I lost control in the woods with Colt.” I huffed a sigh. “I was so furious with what Lothair had said that I barely knew who I was fighting last night. My wolf took charge and clouded my judgment.”

Billie swallowed, her eyes serious as she asked, “How wounded was Colt?”

“Not badly,” I said. “I scratched up his shoulder, but he was still able to run off.” I forced myself to meet her solemn stare so that she could see the truth in my eyes. “But I’m sorry I did it. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Billie’s green eyes shone, and she said, “You said he was lucky you hadn’t killed him.”

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