Page 16 of Daddy's Mail Order Mate

It’s just Lucas. He’s hunched over to look at me through the window, a brow quirked in questioning concern. I force my face into a stoic mask, nod, and start getting ready to load out. He pops the car door open for me and offers me a hand. I don’t make use of it—I don’t need him to feel how much I’m shaking. He looks a bit deflated, but politely shuts the car door after me all the same.

Both of us make the short trek up onto the porch, and Lucas looks down at me expectantly.

“Surprised no one’s come out to see us yet. Well… You ready?”

I force a little nod and reach past him to ring the doorbell.

There’s relative silence at first. But then, muffled through the door, I catch the edge of footsteps and the contented babble of a baby. The door hinges open…

And my mind goes blank.

Standing on the other side of it is a tall man—not as massive as my brother, but not that far off. His jet black hair is combed back into a loose coif, styled in a way that is both careless yet dashingly professional. Stern black brows shroud over rich brown eyes that are set with a sort of angularity that I can only describe as predatory. His mouth is set in a taut line, but the lips are deceptively full, and the fine jaw below kept clean shaven. And while he was dressed in a crisp button shirt and slacks, the majesty of his powerful physique was undeniable beneath the deceptively white collar styling.

Every once in a while, I would dream of my childhood ex, my fated mate who had rejected me. My memories often summon him as he was. Sometimes, they'd try and conjure up some image of how he might be now as an adult.

And as I stare up at him, he looks exactly and yet nothing like my subconscious had designed. But without a single word or move, I know it’s him just from a look alone.

And if that wasn't enough, the crippling drop in my body and a keening twitch of my long latent wolf seals the deal. It is a sickening,uglysensation, like every nerve ending is getting ground down and twisted beneath a sledgehammer. All I feel are dualities: yearning and scorn, hope and despair, love and hate…

Because in spite of everything, there is still some fragment of me that loves him, and I don't know how much of it is the wolf and how much of it isme. It burns white-hot and scorches everything around it, and I wish I could somehow open up my mouth and keep it from suffocating me alive.

“Gwen,” he breathes out.

Something in me swells, and I can feel his name starting to bubble up my throat.

“Thorn.”

But then all I can see is Lucas’ back, and he growls, sharp and vicious. If he'd shifted into a wolf, I know his ridge would beallthe way up.

No,I feel something in me urge.

Not again.

Chapter 4 - Thorn

Gwen.

Her name loops in my mind over and over, echoing through my bones.

It has been so long, but I could never forget her, no matter how much she might change. The mate bond would absolutely make sure of that. But even still, it was uncanny looking down at the woman on my front doorstep.

She was one of the few women I’d met in my life who didn’t seemshortto me, all willowy limbs and slender frame. Though her skin was more tan and there were hundreds of more freckles dappling across her skin, there were patterns and particular ones burned into my memory in the same way one learns the positions of the stars. They bloomed across her face, creating a ruddy glow that radiated out from the line of her nose, bleeding color across every inch of exposed skin, even staining the edges of her sharp, sinuous mouth. Her girlishly wide yet elegantly high cheekbones paired with the almond angling of her dark brown eyes kept her looking almost uncannily youthful to the memories of her resurfacing.

Those eyes were flung open in shock, locked with mine, like a deer in the headlights.

My heart races, and I feel a pit of chill and a feverish blaze fight for dominance through my body. Guilt deadens my gut and constricts my chest, but my blood runs hot with the resurgence of feelings I thought I’d killed long ago.

Then I lose sight of her, and my eyes snapupto the face brooding down at me. That was an unusual feeling. Despite my mind running double time trying to catch up to the strangesituation I find myself in, I’m still able to recognize her brother Lucas despite how he’s practically tripled in size.

“Go put your baby down so I can properly punch you in the face, motherfucker. Gwen! Get in your car, now—”

“Lucas,”Gwen snaps out, her voice cracking like a whip. “Stop.”

He turns, allowing me to catch sight of her again. Her expression is hardened, tension carried all the way from her temples to her collarbone.

“Gwen, you—He—It’s—”

“Iknow.”

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