Page 101 of The Wolf Prince's Mate

“Pissed.” I ran a hand over the top of my head and leaned back in the chair. “I really have no idea what to do about him.”

“What do you want from the connection?”

“I’m not sure.” I stared out the window. I still wasn’t completely comfortable being in a vehicle, but I’d mostly gotten through the lingering terror. “He makes me feel amazing. We have fun together, and things are easier when he’s around. But he’s so determined that his wolf is a monster that I’m avoiding bringing up difficult conversations, which is… not ideal.”

I closed my eyes. “I guess in a perfect world, I’d want us to be honest with each other so we could have a shot at making things work. In this one, I don’t know if we’ll ever figure it out. I could spend months trying to win his heart, and in the end, he could still be so afraid of his wolf that he could reject me.”

“But do you want to be with him?”

“I guess I do.”

“You guess, or you know?”

I tried to imagine my life without Clay. I pictured what the last few weeks would’ve looked like without him there to shop with me, paint with me, and joke with me.

He was just… fun. Even when we were avoiding deep conversations.

And I needed that. I really did.

I wanted it, too.

“I know he would be an incredible mate,” I admitted. “I just can’t see him actually agreeing to bond with me. He’s too afraid.”

“At some point, he’ll be more afraid of losing you than he is of his wolf,” Syd offered.

I didn’t know if that was true.

I actually thought I might eventually have to force the wolf out to show Clay that he would never hurt me.

“I hope you’re right,” I said instead.

We traded places the next time we stopped for a pee break, and I sipped gas station coffee while I drove.

The hours passed slowly, but they did pass. And eventually, we made it to the address Olive had given me.

She’d sent me the passcode I’d need to get into her apartment, so I typed it in when we got there and slipped inside. When I stepped into the room, I shuddered at the thick scent of my sister—and illness.

Oli was asleep in a leather recliner, her face even hollower than it had looked in the picture she sent me.

She’d sent one from when she washealthier.

If she didn’t look so shitty, I would’ve insulted her for it. As it was, she looked like she was barely alive.

“We can set her up with pillows and blankets in the Jeep,” Syd murmured, her eyes heavy with sleep. I’d been at the wheel forthe last ten hours, letting her get some rest. I didn’t want her to deal with the worst parts of our drive—I was just glad she was with me.

I nodded, my throat swollen.

Olive looked like death incarnate.

I crouched down in front of her, putting a hand lightly on her arm. We had the same dark hair and light skin, though hers was deathly pale, and she had less tattoos than me. She only had one sleeve that I could see, though her legs were covered by a thick blanket.

She had always looked like the nicer version of me, thanks to our similar facial features, and even age hadn’t seemed to change that.

“Hey, Oli,” I murmured.

When she didn’t respond, I repeated myself a few times before she finally wrestled her eyes open.

Her lips curved slightly when she did. “Can’t say I ever thought I’d see you again.”

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