Page 100 of The Wild Wolf's Rejected Mate

A rock lodges in my chest, and at that same moment, my wolf realizes Elis’s hands are covered in elk juice.

Apparently, that’s the line, because Elis leaps to his feet and throws his hands in the air to escape my wolf’s tongue, groaning through a belly laugh. Tarquin and the others crack up. My wolf takes advantage of the confusion to snarf up a few elk strips, gets a snoot full of pepper, and sneezes for a half minute straight.

My job is done here.

I shift back, find my pants, and pull them back on. Thankfully, my wolf didn’t rend the seams like he usually does in his struggle to free himself.

“Shall we get breakfast?” I ask Annie, holding out my hand.

She takes it like she’s been doing it for years. That has to be a good sign.

“Didn’t you just eat yours?” she asks.

“My man stomach is still empty.”

“Your wolf and your man have different stomachs?” She raises an eyebrow, meeting my eye without hesitation. It’s gentle and teasing, but she’s still challenging me. That’s very good.

“Absolutely. Wolf stomach, man stomach, and dessert stomach. Don’t you have three?”

She giggles softly, and my heart beats double time.

“We were always taught the wolf and the man are one,” she says.

I snort. That’s some lost packs bullshit. It’s how they brainwash their people. If you can convince someone to believe things that are obviously untrue to anyone with eyes or a brain, you own them. Reality is what you say it is.

“Oh yeah?” I say. I’m not about to get into an argument with my mate over it, though, not while she’s smiling and smelling sweet.

Annie is quiet for a while as we make our way toward the long tables by the bonfire.

When we pass the sycamore, she says out of nowhere, “My wolf isn’t afraid of you.”

I blink, surprised she’s still on the topic. “No, she isn’t,” I agree.

Even when we mated, her wolf wasn’t scared. She wanted to tear my throat out. She wasn’t actually frightened until she got herself trapped between me and the river.

“ButIwas scared.”

I keep my eyes ahead so she doesn’t see the hurt, but then one of her words snags my brain.Was. As in not anymore? I school my face so she doesn’t see the flash of hope. Now isn’t the time. She’s working something out in her head.

“My wolf always howled at me to run and hide,” she says. Her forehead wrinkles, and her pace slows. I slow mine to match. “But I don’t thinkshewas scared. I think she was scared forme.”

I nod. It makes sense. Even a small wolf can defend itself better than a young female. Considering how long it takes Annie to shift, she’d need a decent head start to give her wolf any chance of shifting in time to launch a defense against a predator.

She falls silent, deep in thought, and stays that way until we get to the bonfire. I seat her at a family table next to Nessa and her pups and then go to fetch our plates and a cup of tea. Redmond has made a hash of potato, apple chunks, and onion. I heap two plates high and score two rounds of bannock hot from the skillet.

When I return, Efa is standing on Annie’s lap, playing with her hair. Annie’s face is pink, and despite the cool morning, her upper lip is beaded with sweat. Her brown eyes have a feverish shine. I don’t think we have days before her heat takes over. More like hours.

Dread clutches my chest as adrenaline sends a rush of blood through my veins. My wolf howls at me to take her away from these other males. I breathe through it, willing my muscles to relax. She’s still in her right mind. We’re going to keep calm as long as we can.

I set our plates down and slide onto the bench beside her. Efa gives me a big smile that’s mostly gums except for her new baby canines. She looks like a little vampire.

“Affa!” she shrieks.

“I’m not Efa,” I tease her. “You’re Efa.” I tickle her snout with my beard, and she lets out a peal of delight.

“Affa!”

“Apple? Is that what you said?” I pierce the softest piece of apple with my fork and offer it to her.

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