Page 5 of Dark Obsession
Peach
“How the hell is Salem your mate?” Jagger yells, shaking his head in denial. “No, the fates couldn’t be that cruel. You can’t mate with him, Peach. That male is a monster. You know what he did to me! He tortured me, and he fucking enjoyed it. Salem’s eyes were lit up like a kid on his birthday. I’m lucky I got out of there alive, and it was his brother who let me go, not him. He wanted to kill me.”
I’ve heard this story many times since Jagger was tortured for information, but since I told him about Salem being my fated mate, he’s been on a rant that is giving me a headache.
I’ve always dreamed about meeting my mate and what it would be like.
We would run to each other, he’d lift me in his arms, and I’d feel safe and protected.
Loved.
Cherished.
He’d accept me as I am and think I was beautiful inside and out. Instead, when I realized who my mate was, I panicked and left him behind. I told him to go, and when he didn’t, I left instead. I haven’t seen him since, and I don’t know what to do.
You only get one fated mate, and Salem is it for me. There’s no second option or do-over. Salem, one of the strongest shifters in the realm, is mine. I’ve heard the rumors, and along with Jagger’s testimony, I’m guessing some of them are true. But would he hurt his own mate?
When he saw me, he didn’t give much away, but I thought I saw a flash of something in those wicked light green eyes. Am I mistaken in thinking it was yearning? And maybe even relief? Does he want a mate? What did he think of me? I repeatedly replay meeting him in my mind, trying to read into his every reaction and movement.
“Are you listening to me?” Jagger asks, pulling me out of my thoughts. He runs a hand through his brown hair and leans forward on my kitchen counter.
I stand up from the dining table and walk over to my brother. He’s older than me, but it’s always been me taking care of him. He’s the type who always finds himself in some kind of trouble. He constantly picks the wrong friends and trusts the wrong people, but he’s still my brother. Shifters need their pack, and since our parents died, ours has always been just us two.
“I’m listening, but he’s my mate, Jagger. It’s not that easy for me to walk away like you want me to,” I admit, worrying my lower lip. Not to mention, bonding with Salem will let him know what my magic is, and that would require a lot of trust. Trust I’ve never had in anyone else. Even Jagger doesn’t know the truth of what my magic can do, and it’s going to stay that way.
Salem is an assassin, a killer, and his family is involved in kingdom politics. That’s not a good thing for me. Will he want to use me?
I thought I felt him close by a few times this week, but he never came into the bakery, and I never saw him.
“He doesn’t deserve you,” Jagger growls, his green eyes narrowing. His shoulders then lower as he sighs and changes the subject. “How has the bakery been doing? Have you been making more profit this month with the new items you baked?”
“A little,” I admit, shrugging. “I’m doing okay. I make enough to live a good life.”
“Enough to lend me a little bit of gold?” he asks, which I knew he would.
“Yeah, but that’s all I’m giving you for this month, Jagger. You need to look for a job that pays better. Why don’t you come and work for me in the bakery?” I suggest.
He shakes his head before I can even finish the sentence. “No, I don’t want to work there. That’s your dream, not mine. Come on, let’s go for a run. I think we both need it.”
I couldn’t agree more. I try to let my wolf out as much as I can because I don’t let my magic out all that often, and I don’t think containing everything inside of me is a good idea.
We both shift and run into the forest behind my house. Our wolves—mine a deep red color, his a rich brown—are about the same size, which surprises most people because females are usually much smaller. Jagger playfully nudges me with his snout, and I do the same to him before running away. He chases, and when he catches me, we both playfully roll over each other.
In my wolf form, my life problems seem much more straightforward and less complicated. My wolf wants her mate. She doesn’t care how unhinged he is. In fact, she enjoys the fact that he’s the biggest and baddest wolf around. However, I keep needing to remind myself why I should stay away from him.
The more I say it, maybe the more I’ll believe it.
The next day, the bakery is so busy that I barely have a free second. I know I need to hire someone else, so I make a mental note to put an ad at the front door.
I’m refilling the cupcakes when I freeze, feeling him before I see him. Lifting my face, I look into the cold eyes of the lightest green, framed in thick, dark lashes. He has a scar on his cheek, a deep one that looks like a knife might have caused it. His nose is slightly crooked, and his lips are firm and full. He has a bit of dark stubble on his sharp jawline, thick dark brows, and short dark hair. He’s built larger than any male I’ve seen. His shoulders are thick and broad, and his height towers over me. His white tunic clings to his muscular build, showing off his biceps and cut stomach. His strong legs are like tree trunks. He definitely does not skip leg day when he’s working out. He’s terrifyingly and brutally handsome.
“Salem,” I whisper, placing the cupcakes down and giving him my full attention. “You came back.”
He tilts his head to the side, studying me, an odd expression on his face. “You’re mine. Of course, I came back.” His voice is gravelly, deep, low, and raspy, as if it rarely gets used.
Licking my suddenly dry lips, I clear my throat. “I’m sorry about last time. It’s just… my brother?—”
“Your brother is alive and unharmed, and he will remain that way.”
