Page 18 of The Wild Wolf's Rejected Mate

No, I didn’t. I don’t want a mate who stinks like fear and crawls away from me like I’m a monster.

I want a mate. A family. What other males have. What everyone wants.

For the first time in these long, wretched weeks since I scented my mate on the wind, I let my temper flare. She’s acting like I’m unworthy. Feral. Like I took her without care.

“You presented. You said ‘do it.’” I heard her clear as day. She can’t deny it.

She tugs her shirt tightly around herself. Her knees are knocking. “We had to get it over with, and we did. You can go now.”

“We aremates.”

She understands what that means. Even Quarry Pack males—with their pulley machines that they work at forhoursand makenothing, their constant sparring, and their hoisting weights for no reason, over and over while they admire each other—eventheyhaven’t ventured so far from their roots that they don’t bond with their fated female. Why does she say I can go? She knows I can’t.

“You come with me.” I reach out my hand again. “We’ll go to our den now.” I try to make my voice ring with authority like Max does when us younger males get out of line, but I only manage to snarl and scare her more.

I hate her fear stench. It accuses me, and I did nothing to her that I didn’t have to do.

“N-no.” She whips her head back and forth. Her breath comes harder. She’s almost wheezing, her lungs working like she’s run a mile. “D-don’t c-come any closer. Don’t t-touch me.”

I take one step closer. That’s all. I’m still six feet away, at least, but I might as well have lunged for her.

She shifts.

And it’scarnage.

Her human body basicallypitchesher wolf out of her skin, and it’s all wrong. Her wolf thrashes into being, bones cracking, tendons snapping, and muscles tearing. The shift goes onforever.

I reach for her, but there’s nothing I can do to help, no part of her I can hold as her body rips itself to pieces, so my hands hover in the air, useless. My wolf gapes in horror as our mate seizes and writhes on the ground while her animal stitches herself together.

My gorge rises. It’s a scene from a nightmare.

I know the lost packs have forgotten how to shift the right way, but I’ve never seen them do it up close. It’s torture. Annie’s screams morph into her wolf’s agonized howls, and I’m powerless to help. I sink to my knees again, pounding my chest so that my wolf will rumble louder. It’s all the comfort I can offer.

How can they do this to themselves? This must be why they spend so much time in their skin. To avoid this agony.

Finally, after what feels like an entireminute, her wolf staggers to her wobbling feet. Despite the horror, my heart warms. She’s lovely, just as pretty as her human self, slender and shiny with a white topcoat, a light gray underbelly, and light gray socks. I can’t make out her eye color. They’re narrowed into slits.

“Welcome, beautiful,” I say softly, offering her my fingers to sniff.

Her lips peel back.

She comes for me.

She launches herself at my neck, claws unsheathed, an unholy howl rising from her chest. She’s coming for blood.

I snatch her from mid-air, pinning her forelegs to her sides, holding her away from my face to avoid her gnashing fangs. If I was a slower male, she’d have ripped my throat out. She still will if I let her go.

She hates me.

“What did I do?” I ask and shake her, just a little, just to calm her down.

Her wolf bucks and flails. The whites of her rolling eyes flash. Her teeth snap.

“Is there a male of your own pack that you want? Is that it?” I’ll kill him. He doesn’t deserve her. She lives in fear. No worthy male would allow it.

She struggles, all claws and teeth, fighting with every ounce of her strength while I try to keep her from hurting either of us.

It can’t be another male. She was so afraid of me, if she had another male, she would have certainly gone to him.

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