Page 99 of The Wild Wolf's Rejected Mate

“Not far. Just outside. I’ll be right there.” I drag a hand through my hair, and then, after a few more excruciating seconds, my feet take pity on me and walk our ass out of the den.

I stride over to the ledge and survey the camp below, hands on my hips, pretending that I have some dignity left. Folks are slow to rise today. They usually are after a successful hunt.

I see little Leon has beat his dam awake. He’s snuck from her den and toddled all the way down to the clearing and across camp to the bonfire where he’s begging bread from Rodric. When Annie comes out, we’d best stop there first and take him back before Delphie wakes up, misses him, and panics.

Just as I make the plan, Annie clears her throat behind me. I spin, overeager, my heart catching in my throat. In the daylight, she’s twice as lovely. My faded gray sweater swims on her, and the pants bag around her legs like potato sacks. She tamed her hair and tied it back with what looks like a strip from yesterday’s gown.

With her brown hair and eyes sparkling in the sunshine, she looks like a forest sprite. She clasps her hands and rocks on her small feet, bashful but enthralled, just like me. She takes me in, too. I can’t help but straighten my shoulders while her gaze darts to my chest and then slides down.

My cock swells, and her eyes snap back to mine. I smile—very, very careful not to let it turn into a smirk—and say, “Ready?”

“Okay,” she answers softly.

I gesture for her to go ahead of me down the switchback path. As we pass the dens, I call out a greeting if I hear rustling within and tread lightly if it’s quiet. When we pass Delphie’s, I hear her stirring, so I call in to her that Leon is down at the fire withRodric, and then I urge Annie to hurry on before Delphie can pop her head out, and I catch the scolding meant for Leon.

On a normal day after a hunt, I’d check on the butchering first, so when we get to the clearing, I grab Annie’s hand and lead her toward the smoke shack. She lets me keep hold of it as we walk. My heart soars. I am very careful not to strut or grin like an idiot. If I act like this is an everyday thing, maybe Annie will see how it could be.

When we get to the smoke shack, Tarquin greets me, ducking his head at Annie. She blushes and shrinks closer to me, but she does say good morning and gives him a shy smile.

The elk has been skinned and sectioned, and the shank, shoulder, ribs, and brisket are already smoking. Tarquin has Elis slicing the top and bottom rounds for jerky.

“How is it going?” I ask Elis, not expecting a response. Like usual, he startles when I speak, even though he’s been watching me this whole time. I act like I didn’t notice. That’s how we handle his twitchiness.

Annie picks up on it, though. She frowns, her hand tightening on mine.

Shit. Does she think he’s afraid of me? That I’ve given him a reason? Or does she see me ignore his distress and remember how I didn’t credit hers?

Mates are a fucking landmine.

Maybe it doesn’t need to be that dire. I’m the dominant male here, Elis is scared, and despite her own fears, Annie has a strong protective instinct. She showed that when she leapt on little Efa’s wolf to save the pup from Alroy when he snarled like a bitch because Diantha got the best of him again. Annie’s wolf was defending the pup while she waited for me to handle shit.

I can do that. Handle shit is more or less what I do all day, every day.

I let Annie’s hand go, and padding forward very slowly, I approach Elis where he sits on a bench at the table we use for processing. His fear scent bursts into the air, strong enough to cut through the smell of smoking elk.

“What are we doing this time—garlic or honey glazed?” I ask, crouching beside him so I’m lower than his eyeline when he answers me.

He clears his throat. “Just a pepper rub on these.”

My stomach growls, totally unintended. Elis grins, his shoulders dropping a notch away from his ears.

“I get dibs, right?” I ask.

“Sure thing, Alpha,” he says, flashing me a faint smile. That’s better, but it’s not quite right.

My wolf pushes forward, and I follow my instinct and let him out, fully expecting him to scarf down a few of the elk strips piled on the cutting board.

Instead, he kicks his hindlegs free of our pants and proceeds to headbutt Elis in the armpit.

“Wha—?” Elis tenses, preparing to lose it, but before he can, my wolf props his paws on Elis’s shoulders and marks his face with such enthusiasm that Elis gets both a mouth and nose full of fur.

My wolf rumbles, and I can almost scent Elis’s remaining tension seep away. My wolf laps his face, and Elis chuckles, a deep, rusty creaking sound. Until I hear it, I don’t realize just how long it’s been missing from camp.

It makes sense in a horrible way. If the world is out to get you, best to be invisible, quiet and small. That’s how my Annie was living, wasn’t it?

I can’t let her go back to that.

And I can’t stop her. I swore.

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