Page 26 of Rejected Exile

His mouth on her neck.

The way her eyes glowed fierce, her wolf spirit rising within her.

How his moans and grunts turned to a visceral howl.

And the way he seemed to want to be one with her, tojoinwith her completely. How his flesh was hard and strong on top of her. Then, when she drew her legs around him and flipped him over, how pleased she looked with her body as she rode on top of him.

It made uncomfortable heat rise inside me, even though my own lanky, little girl body looked nothing like hers. I didn't wantthatinside me, didn't want anything like it anywhere near me, but it still awakened something within me. Made me wonder if one day I would.

Afterwards, Kieran jumped from the tree and helped me down. We were awkward and quiet as we walked back to my home.

Eventually he declared, "I don't think I'll ever want to dothat."

"Me neither." I giggled. "They looked so..."

"Stupid."

"Yeah. That's it. Stupid."

"It won't look like that whenwedo it." He took my hand and stared at me with those honey-brown eyes, all childlike earnestness. "I promise."

"I don't think I'lleverwant to do it," I confessed to him. "Maybe I'm like Aunt Sally, and I only want to do it with other girls. Or like my dad's cousin Ed, who doesn't do it with anyone."

"That's okay too." Kieran shrugged. "As long as we get to be friends, I don't really mind."

"You don't?"

"Yeah. Our dads say our wolves will show us that we're mates, but who knows—adults are wrongallthe time." He rolled his eyes. "They could be wrong about us."

A year later, though, it was obvious that they weren't. As our bodies grew and changed, something else grew between us. Soon enough, my dad was insisting we keep my bedroom door open when Kieran visited. It wasn't long after that when one of our teachers caught us in the girls' bathroom, which we'd barricaded with a stool, dry humping on top of the counter. She boxed our ears and reaffirmed thatthosesort of things were for the Mating Circle and the mate bond, and not outside of it—not until we could show the pack that we were ready.

But that didn't stop me from wanting it. I dreamed of what it would be like with Kieran. Imagined how much better, less clumsy, it would be compared to what we saw that night. How he would take his time and make me feel wonderful.

I thought we were meant to be.

Until I stood in the Mating Circle with his grey wolf and those piercing yellow eyes he wore in wolf form, and realized that I would never be able to do anything like that with Kieran, because I didn't have a wolf at all.

* * *

I hate him. I wish that I could punch him in the face. Go back in time and scream in his stupid face.

"Stupid fucking face." My efforts to clean the shower grout redouble as I think about Kieran that night seven years ago. "To just reject me like that... like I was nothing..."

Tears stream down my face. I wipe them away and keep going with the shower grout. That third cocktail was probably a mistake; the fourth one definitely is. And the soaring heartbreak music playing from my bluetooth speaker isn't helping matters.

The sooner I get this house back in working order, the sooner I can go home. Back to my job and my condo. Back in Cat's arms. Somewhere I'm accepted by everyone, not... not...

"I reject you! I will never be your mate."

By the time the music playlist peters out, the shower grout is sparkling clean. As I peel off my latex gloves and grab my bucket of cleaning supplies, I give the bathroom a good once over.

It needs some major remodeling: new tile, a better bathroom sink with more counter space, an updated toilet. But its usable—barely. I got the toilet the flush and the sink to stop dripping. Time to move on to other things.

As I pace through the house, though, I find nothing I can do right now. Every bit of crown moulding is sparkling clean; the kitchen sink looks like you could lick it, and the fridge has never been tidier. The only things left all have to wait until my hardware order is delivered.

Sighing, I put the cleaning supplies away, scrub my hands, and turn the oven on. While it’s reheating I grab a drink—non-alcoholic this time. Then I slide a frozen pizza onto the oven rack and stretch, twisting until I feel my bones creak and pop.

If I'd known you were shiftless, I never would've said those things. I don't want you!

---