Page 6 of Wolf's Claimed Mate
I went to answer but glanced up at another person coming into the gym at this hour. Only a handful of us were in here—not only Fenrys’s pack but some of Aidan’s, too, and some general insomniacs making use of the small-town facilities.
A buzzed head, once full of dark hair like mine, was the first thing I saw, and my stomach dropped.
Across the gym, Declan saw me. A scowl crawled along his face. He turned on his heel and walked back out.
“Dec—” I called, but he’d already gone.
Fine.
Declan, Sasha—they wanted to give me the cold shoulder? Fine. I could make them both talk to me under direct orders from my alpha and Declan’s.
Chapter 3 - Sasha
I sighed and tossed my purse onto the sofa in my studio apartment above the town’s bookshop. I worked a few hours there every weekend in exchange for cheaper rent. I collapsed into a pink armchair in the shape of a heart, hugging my knees to my chest, sighing.
Despite the good day, I felt burnt out.
I felt like…
I wasn’t sure. But like a thin thread, fraying, like I needed something to ground myself with.
A message popped up on my phone.
From C: We need to talk. Fenrys’s orders.
I quickly shot a message back:I don’t take orders from alpha wolves.
He sent back the middle finger emoji, and I smiled, momentarily smug and victorious. I half considered messaging back, saying he knew where my apartment was, he could very well visit me any time he wanted. But Conall didn’t. Conall never showed up here again after I’d told him to leave, and I had too much pride to retract my statement.
Leave, Conall.
The command had been sharp, hard enough to make him take his hands off me, retreat, pull his shirt back on, and walk out the door without another glance. I had meant to sayNot yet, I’m not ready. Or,this level of intimacy scares the shit out of me. But instead, I’d pushed him away without meaning to. My fear had overwhelmed me.
Ever since Fenrys had called the meeting between the two packs, I’d felt drained. In front of them, I could put on a languid smile, act like the pretty, indifferent leopard who loved to be adored by different men, and talk about my ex-boyfriend like it was nothing. I’d done it with Thalia when I’d first introduced her to Kato.
I had gotten good at repressing things, shoving it all down.
And yet the night following that first double pack meeting, Conall and I had gone for a drink, and I’d invited him to my place afterward, he had dragged all that repressed fear and emotion that I had been running from, and terrified me.Why you? I wanted to ask.
I didn’t particularly want to talk about my ex-boyfriend, I didn’t want to be associated with him, or remember the girl I’d been when I had dated him, but I knew I owed Thalia that. I was only doing this to try to find a way to alleviate my guilt of dragging into Kato’s business in the first place.
Now Kato was dead, killed by Thalia’s mate, and while I didn’t bow down to Fenrys, I knew I needed to do my part to help the town. I was doing it for my best friend.
But then Conall’s handsome face came into my mind, and the thought came unbidden.Will you do it for him too?
Groaning, I pushed to my feet, going to the fridge for the opened bottle of wine. I picked up a wine glass from the open cabinet above my kitchen counter. The good thing about living in a small studio was that the wine was never too far out of reach.
Pouring a large glass, I sipped, before steadily drinking, finally finding what had a chance at grounding me that afternoon. The more the wine settled, the better I felt, themoremeI felt. I had worked hard to not be vulnerable or codependent.
I was independent; I was Sasha McColl, and nobody got to take that away from me ever again. Not like he had.
If I had to dredge up the memories of my past relationship—the very thing that had almost made me emotionally disappear altogether, leaving me trapped with a pack of wolves whom I had thought of as brothers once upon a time—then I would do it onmyterms. Not with Conall, not even Thalia.
No, I had to crack open my Pandora’s box of memories alone.
***
In a maroon-colored hoodie that fell to my mid-thigh, and nothing else, I sat cross-legged in my spacious closet. It was almost as big as my kitchen, which said more about my kitchen’s small size rather than my closet being big.
