Page 58 of Chev's Mate

There’s definitely hatred, but it’s not spewed toward me. It’s spewed toward Chev. People are picking apart his interview, specifically the part where he shares the start of our relationship. He discusses in detail how he showed himself to me and locked me in my office, and he even took things a step further and detailed how he followed me to Wrath and stalked me.

He painted himself in the worst light possible, and people have latched on to it.

Tears fill my eyes and stream down my cheeks as I read, and I’m horrified by the cruel words. Chev must have known this would happen. He’s not foolish. Even I saw how he painted himself during his interview, but I never anticipated it would cause this much backlash.

He ruined his reputation to spare mine.

I find a few articles from yesterday, ones where I’m painted as a disappointment, but they’re far and few between. I doubt people like me any more now than they did yesterday, but they hate Chev more.

I navigate to the smaller, Chev-centered online forums next. The women who write here think Chev can do no wrong, and I’m relieved to see they haven’t changed. They still hate me and worship Chev.

I never thought I’d be so relieved to read such horrible things about myself. The women speak all my worst fears and insecurities into existence. They say I’m too weak and damaged to ever truly make Chev happy. They accurately guess that we don’t have sex and never will, and they hypothesize how long it will take him to grow sick of me and leave.

Chev has always been vocal about his excitement to find his mate, and he’s spoken occasionally about how much he’s lookingforward to having children and sharing a bed with another. He never said anything explicitly about sex, but it was implied. Chev’s always been a horny male, and he’s not very good at hiding it.

One woman in the community made a video montage of Chev saying these things. I can only stomach about half of it before slamming my computer shut.

Chev will have his children. We won’t have sex, but I can give him his family. We aren’t ready for kids now, but I’ll be happy to do it when we are. He’ll be an amazing father, and I have to trust that will be enough for him.

I have to trust. I have no other options.

Chapter Twenty-Three

CHEV

CHARLIE STEPS INTO the bathroom, a laugh already on the cusp of emerging.

“You look very handsome,” she compliments me.

I know she doesn’t mean it. She’s laughing at me. It’s written clear as day on her face. She leans against the door frame, resting her shoulder against the wood as she watches Gray wash my fur. I barely fit in the tub in my bear form, but I need to be cleaned.

Cassia directs the shower spray at my face, the tiny wrath full of giggles. I swipe at her, and I’m impressed by her lack of fear as my bear’s claws come only inches from her face. Instead, she giggles harder and swings her head back and forth, letting her heavy, wet hair slap around her head. She and Gray are soaking wet, but that tends to be what happens when you stick a full-grown bear in a bathtub.

Vanessa has invited me to her home for an unsupervised dinner, and I want to look my best for her.

I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been cleaned in my bear form—particularly as an adult—but the humiliation of having Gray and his child assist is well worth it.Grooming is typically only done among immediate family and mates, but I don’t have the patience to deal with the questions my dad is sure to spout when I ask for help bathing.

I doubt Vanessa will request to see my bear, but I want him to look good for her in case she does. First impressions are important.

Gray sits on the tub’s edge, working a conditioner-soaked comb through my fur while Cassia rinses the soap off my legs. I liked it better when David was here. He was mindful of the water’s temperature and the direction of the spray, but Silas pulled him away to finish his schoolwork and replaced him with the tiny wrath.

My chest vibrates when Gray snags a knot near my spine, and when I try to wiggle away, he grabs my shoulder and forces me to remain still.

“Stop complaining,” he huffs. “Do you want your fur to be soft or not?”

I swipe his hand off my shoulder, annoyed, before forcing my limbs to be still. Idowant my fur to be soft.

Gray smiles. “We’re almost done.”

He said that twenty minutes ago and twenty minutes before that, so I no longer believe him. Gray’s a dirty liar.

Cassia gradually loses interest and wanders away with Charlie, leaving Gray and me alone. I’m happy for them to leave. It’s embarrassing having to be washed like a small child, and the fewer people who see it, the better.

Gray clears his throat. “Do you want me to get your front?”

I huff, nodding as I kick out my legs and spread my arms. Well, I spread as much as the small tub will allow. Gray shifts to sit on the ledge in front of me. He leans forward and massages soap into my chest and stomach, his fingers burying in deep as he works it through my fur.

I’m not too fond of his hands on me, but I have to admit he’s thorough.

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