Page 21 of Chev's Mate

They’ll probably start hypothesizing over who his chosen mate will be. He’ll have to pick one. He’s the alpha of his pack, and he’ll be required to father children at some point. I’m sure several women will offer.

I navigate to their online forum, and I suck my lips into my mouth as I see what they have to say. Their words make me angrier than they should, but only because I hate the thought of other people fantasizing about Chev. Our mate bond is possessive, and my heart lurches whenever they say something vulgar—which is frequently.

The women in the group are still guessing who Chev’s mate could be, but they’ve almost entirely skipped over me. I’m a nymph, and apparently, that puts me out of consideration. Almighty Chev would never be mated to such a weak woman.

It hurts my feelings more than I’d care to admit, but I continue scrolling.

Today’s most popular posts are about Chev’s absence from the Seeker headquarters and another, more vulgar one about the markings on his thighs. I want to read through the one about his thighs first, but I restrain myself and click on the first post.

People love spotting Chev, and they’re concerned by the lack of images these past few weeks. Most assume he’s returned to the shifter lands until everything with his mate dies down. Echo and the few others close to him have refused to speak up and share any information about his whereabouts, other than to briefly say he is alive.

I know he’s alive. Our bond is weak, but it was still triggered when we laid eyes on one another. I’d know if he died. It would be a soul-deep longing, and a piece of myself would permanently disappear. I don’t feel that, so I know he’s alive.

I hope that’s all our bond shares. Some mates can feel one another’s extreme emotions, mainly negative ones, like pain and fear. I don’t believe it’s common among nymphs, but it is among shifters. I don’t want Chev to feel my emotions.

Some women in the group guess that Chev is staying with Aziel, a potential option I don’t like to consider. Aziel’s manor is close to the facility, only a few miles from the gated property. I know he and Chev are friends, but I hope he didn’t open his doors to my mate.

The mere thought has my heart racing with fear, and I peer at my windows as I contemplate the possibility. If he was let into Wrath, it’s only a matter of time before he finds his way to me. Shifters don’t just give up on their mates, and Chev will be looking for me.

Does he know where I live?

I keep my eyes and ears open whenever I travel to and from work, but I haven’t seen anything amiss. I like to think there’s no way I’d miss a giant bear following me home through the woods.

I click out of the thread when the conversation turns sexual. The women begin discussing how much they’d love to be Chev’s mate and how they’d never run from him. That quickly dissolves into them sharing painful details of all the things they’d let him do to them.

Most of the women in the group are younger than me, so young they were still teenagers when the shifters took over the Seekers facility. They were too young to be sold, and they never truly experienced what it was like to be a purchased female. They don’t know, so how can they relate? I repeat that to myself as I climb off the couch and head upstairs to bed.

I’m happy there’s a younger generation of women who are so open to men. It’s good. It’s progress. But it still makes me so fucking angry. Chev is my mate, and even if I don’t want him, that doesn’t make him any less mine.

It’s irrational and unfair, but it’s how I feel.

Thoughts of Chev with other women consume me, and I’m hardly aware of a thing going on around me as I change into pajamas and pace the length of my room. I don’t want to read anything more this group has to say, but I also don’t want to read the negative things the news organizations spew.

I’m desperate, and I drag a hand through my hair as I find myself looking up images of him. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of them available. He’s one of the most popular men across almost every realm, and his face is probably one of the most recognizable.

I wonder if he’s ever been with another woman.

I’m sure people throw themselves at him, probably offering things I’ll never feel comfortable giving. He’s a healthy adult man, one I’m sure has sexual needs. Has he taken any of those women up on their offers?

Shifters pride themselves on waiting for their mates, but not all. Their reproductive systems still work, and the men are pumped full of testosterone and other hormones that make them crave release. Nothing is stopping a shifter male from fucking a woman, maybe other than tradition.

My palms are sweaty, and I wipe them on the soft cotton of my nightgown before taking a seat on my windowsill. I’m too worked up to go to bed, infuriating thoughts of Chev swirling around my head and refusing to let me have just a moment of peace.

I zoom in on a picture of his thigh, borderline desperate to see the mark that haunts my every waking moment. Given the sheer number of images of him, I thought there’d be more of his animal and mate markings.

Instead, I have to zoom in on grainy images, which isn’t satisfying. It doesn’t scratch my itch, and I let out a quiet groan as I scroll through picture after picture. I just want to see hismate mark. It’s high up on his thigh, so close to his groin, and I place a hand over my chest when emotions I don’t want to feel begin swirling inside me.

Chev is so muscular, and I should hate it. I know I should, but all I can think about is how he would feel under my hands. I want to touch his legs, his torso, his shoulders, and every other part of him.

I hate how needy he makes me, and I curse the damned bond as I get up from the window, turn off the bedroom lights, and slide into bed. There’s a video of Chev fighting, one I return to almost every night when my desperation peaks. He looks so powerful in it, and I can’t stop myself from fantasizing.

There’s nothing wrong with fantasizing. Chev will never know, so I don’t see the harm.

Chapter Nine

CHEV

VANESSA HAS ALREADY left the facility by the time I arrive, and I curse myself for being late as I run to her home. Her golf cart is parked by her porch, and I pout as I shift into my skin form and redress. I’ve missed her, and I have nobody to be angry at but myself.

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