Page 12 of Wolf's Rejected Mate

But the throb of the golden arch over my heart was impossible to ignore in Elijah’s presence, our mate bond unmistakable, even after all this time. He wasn’t dead, and I was elated—and simultaneously horrified.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” I asked again, this time through clenched teeth, enunciating every word deliberately.

“Am I in your way?” he drawled cockily without a hint of shame.

Dumbfounded, I gaped at him for a second. He looked so different than the last time I’d seen him and yet exactly the same. Like me, he hadn’t aged a day in two centuries, his light sepia skin smooth but for the scruff that indicated a few days of travel. The green of his eyes pierced into my soul, bringing me back to a thousand memories I had no interest in reliving in that backwoods bar—or anywhere else. But there was a certain emptiness in his gaze that I didn’t recognize, as if the Elijah I had once known was no longer in there.

“A-are you playing coy with me?” I sputtered.

His grin faded, a slight perplexity overcoming him.

“Do you want me to?”

I suddenly became aware of all the eyes on us, and I grabbed for his arm and moved him toward a nearby table.

“I would have arranged for a more romantic first date,” he told me slyly, and I again stared at him, wondering what the hell was wrong with him.

“Is this funny to you?” I rasped, sliding into a chair.

He leaned forward, unperturbed by my mounting agitation, which only infuriated me more.

“Not particularly,” he replied slowly. “But the way your lower lip drops into a pout is extremely sexy.”

Drawing in a breath, I sat back in my chair, shaking slightly.

“What’s your name?” Elijah asked.

I gasped aloud, the question stabbing me directly in the lungs. Of all the things he could have said, I couldn’t have imagined a more hurtful query.

“What?” I choked in disbelief.

“Your name. You have one, don’t you?” he pressed, leaning forward to extend his long hands toward me. I found myself transfixed on his fingers, ageless and fine, exactly as they’d always been.

A mishmash of conflicting emotions warbled through me as I tried to make sense of what was happening.

“Stop it!” I growled, eying the neighboring tables. Did they recognize him? No, of course they couldn’t—could they? Elijah hadn’t been in Pario City for generations, but some of them might be old enough to remember.

“Stop what?” he laughed. “You’re the one who brought me to the table.”

Is he joking? Is he acting?

But when I stared at him, I could see that he was genuinely looking at me like we had never met before. Humiliation burned at my cheeks, and my tears burned up as my hands closed into tight fists.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not yet,” Elijah replied. “But now that I have such beautiful company, I could go for another beer.” He winked. “But only if you tell me your name.”

I shook my head—hard, like I was trying to shake sense into myself. No, this had to be some kind of act. He was trying to pretend like nothing happened, like he could just waltz back into my life after having me believe that he was gone. And yet, as he stared at me, I saw no recognition.

“Hello?” Elijah pressed. “Is that a yes to the drink?”

I jumped to my feet, shaking with upset. I wasn’t going to let him break my heart again. He had rejected me once and left me to fend for myself. I wasn’t about to let him do it again, especially not when Elijah was pretending he didn’t even know who I was.

“Where are you going?”

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll go back to wherever you’ve been hiding and stay there,” I hissed, glowering at him. Oh, but it was hard, so hard to glare at him when all I wanted to do was throw my arms around him and sob into his shoulder.

“Hey!” he protested as I spun around.

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