Page 15 of Daddy's Mail Order Mate

The thought of going to his pack makes my stomach churn.

“Do you want to make memoretense? Because that’s a good way to do it.”

“I thought you weren’t tense,” he chides.

I shrug a shoulder and am mercifully spared from having to come up with a retort thanks to the waitress coming up to get my drink order in. I make the most of her swinging by to just pick something quick off the menu, not wanting to waste too much time with hemming and hawing over a meal I’d be too anxious to really taste.

Once she heads off, Lucas leans in, speaking in a more furtive tone.

“But you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m going to be right there with you,” my brother insists, reaching over to put his hand over mine.

I give the back of his hand a light pat to accept the gesture before pulling my hands back to myself.

“Yeah. I know.”

“And I sure as shit won’t let some asshole hurt you again. Not after what that motherfucker did to you.”

My gut drops and my throat tightens, and I feel my mouth tighten to a braced line. I'd been fighting off those thoughts all goddamn day, and here my brother was, dragging it out into the stark light of day.

“Rejectmysister? Absolute asshole. I almost up and left Elm Wood when I realized they associated with Portsmill because of that bastard. But he's not in it anymore, and apparently it's a lot better these days; Eli, uh, my Alpha, sat me down and convinced me.”

My hands twitch on the table. Nausea wells up in my gut and my throat chokes in an invisible vice grip. Part of my mind screams to stand up and walk away now.

A memory burns like a brand across my mind, taking only an instant but feeling like I lurch through all the years between now and then.

I'm seventeen again. There’s the distant smell of a campfire dusting over the rot of autumn leaves. Cold, deadened brown eyes stare down at me, set in the face of the boy who had been my boyfriend up until that moment. The golden light of the house shines through his black hair like a halo; he was always so heartwrenchingly handsome, and still is within my memories. But even then, his beauty in that moment made the uncanny calm of his voice even more surreal to hear.

“I’m not just breaking up with you. I reject you, Gwen,” Thorn utters. “I reject our mate bond.”

I feel the urge to just drive back, call this whole thing off, and swear to never deal with wolves again. It wells up in me, acrid and awful, and my mind feels like a dull roar as I struggle to hear my brother ramble on.

“But I can't believe his fucking sister's the Luna now,” Lucas seethes before settling back against the booth with a sigh. “She was a good kid though, and I can't blame her for her dumbshit brother's decisions.”

“Well isn't that a heartwarming underdog story,” I lurch back into reality with a deadpan remark, my voice dull to my own ears. “Guess not all of us undesirables stay that way forever.”

Lucas tenses, and I see the stricken realization move across his face. Wounded irritation stirs in my before he can even start mustering the apologies.

“Hey, Gwen, I'm sorry—”

I wave my hand faintly, doing my best to keep it from being sharp and fighting to look unphased.

“It's fine. Let's just have lunch in peace and get ready to meet this guy, alright?”

He nods. Despite how big and muscular he is, the tender sheepish look he gives me just makes him look like a schoolboy who just got told off. But I don't have it in me to properly assure him—it's taking all I can to just get myself centered enough to even be willing to go through with this still.

I cram the memories and old hurts to the back of my mind, and cram the burger I ordered into my mouth just the same. And I’d been right; by the time we start walking out to our cars, I can’t remember what my food had even tasted like.

My brother pulls his truck out first, as he’d insisted on taking the lead for the rest of the drive. I watch him through my rear view and only have the will to turn on my own engine once he starts cruising gently onto the main road.

“Come on, you can’t back out now,” I urge myself beneath my breath, gritting my way through the spike of nerves.

But I can’t help the fact that I’m practically white-knuckling my steering wheel the whole way there. It honestly is a good idea that Lucas took point; I might have gotten too in my own head if I didn’t have that obnoxious red truck to mindlessly trail after. I’m so worked up that I don’t even have the mind to turn my music back on and merely drive in restless silence, heart in my throat.

Eventually the highway gives way to narrow wooded back roads, and soon enough our wheels crunch on gravel and dirt as our little caravan pulls up to a lone property. It’s a pretty house; I’d only been able to see the roof from the satellite map when I looked up the address, and it looked decently sized. It’sa relatively new construction from how pristine the siding and porch are—maybe a few years old? There’s a hanging swing on the porch that adds a rustic touch, though it doesn’t have any other furnishing or decoration besides that. A black SUV sits parked in the driveway in front of us, and I see Lucas’ protective nature at work with how he blocks it in with his truck to make sure that there’s no way it could get out unless the truck got moved. I silently take the time to use the wider entrance to get my car parked backwards. Either it’ll make it more convenient to load my stuff out into the house, or faster to make a quick getaway.

I stare that the lane back out, my car’s engine idling like a dull purr around me.

There’s a knock on my window, and I flinch, eyes wide.

---