Page 11 of Mate

I didn’t want a mate.

There was no room in my life for one, and I wasn’t going to make any.

Fate be damned. I’ve never been one to put stock in fate or destiny. It was a notion that felt like a noose around my neck, especially given the responsibilities that weighed on my shoulders as the alpha of our pack and the president of Newsome University. The last thing I needed was a mate. Love, they say, is supposed to make you stronger, but in my case, it was just a distraction I couldn’t afford.

Not right now.

It was also a weakness, one our enemies could easily have exploited against me if they found out her existence.

At least, that was what I told myself before Kaci Iverson walked through my office door.

My heart had nearly stopped at the sight of her, a vision that shattered every carefully constructed wall I’d built around myself. Her long, flowing chestnut brown hair cascaded like a river of silk down her back, and in her bright blue eyes there was a depth that threatened to drown me within them. Her beautiful porcelain skin held a soft rosy blush that highlighted her soft cheekbones. A smattering of freckles danced across the narrow bridge of her nose. Her pink lips were full and inviting, begging for a kiss that I didn’t want to give.

Her curves, really every inch of her, were a masterpiece of temptation. The scent of her, sweet and intoxicating, called to me like a siren’s song, and I struggled to maintain a facade of control, especially when I noticed that the little minx wasn’t wearing a bra.

Her body called to me.

Her nipples were hard, clearly visible through the light purple fabric of her crop top. I wanted to reach out and pluck them with my fingers, to see if she trembled with fear or arousal, or maybe even a little bit of both.

I wouldn’t allow that to happen though. I needed her far away from me, safe on the other side of the country where I wouldn’t fall prey to the weakness that came with taking a mate.

So I’d come up with a solution. I’d ship her off to our sister institution and put her in one of our world-renowned foreign exchange programs, and then she’d be out of my hair for a good long while.

Ry and I had run into her last night. We’d caught her scent and neither of us had been able to resist for long. We’d followed herback to her dorms, but we both knew this was a situation that was going to need to be handled delicately.

Withdistance.

Just this morning, I’d moved some of my private university funds and bought her plane ticket, got a couple of packmates to gather her stuff, and added her name to the roster of our Italian foreign exchange program. She’d be a bit behind because it had started a couple of weeks ago, but a student of her prowess should be fine.

She’d get on with her life, and I’d get on with mine,without her.

Right now, she was being driven to the airport. As soon as she got on that plane, she would cease to be my problem.

I sighed in relief.

A gnawing ache grew in the depths of my chest. I dismissed it, attributing it to the stress of the day as I sat down in my office chair. My heartbeat quickened and I took a deep breath, trying to calm whatever was happening before it got too far.

I reached down and pulled open the bottom drawer of my desk, grabbing the bottle of bourbon I kept there for special occasions. I took out a glass and poured myself three fingers before taking a swig and enjoying the fiery burn as it cascaded down my throat and settled deep in my belly.

I pressed my hand over my chest, the gradual discomfort giving way to a relentless pressure radiating outward like a building storm. I took another sip of my drink, trying to shake it off, whatever this was.

My stomach cramped hard, and I grimaced. Maybe I’ve caught some sort of virus, but then the feeling worsened. My organssqueezed together, and it was hard to draw in a single breath of air. I swallowed hard, breaking out in a cold sweat as the world started to spin a little bit.

If I hadn’t been sitting down, I would have fallen to the floor.

Clenching my teeth, I tried to bear the brunt of the pain, thinking it would pass, but it only grew worse. In a matter of moments, I went from feeling fucking fantastic to reenacting the walking dead.

I groaned, not missing the fact that I sounded like a freshly awakened zombie.

My tongue was dry and thick in my mouth, and I could feel it swelling. My eyes ached and I closed them for a brief moment, only to force them open once again.

I unbuttoned the top button of my dark burgundy shirt, feeling a little better as the fabric loosened. I continued down the line of buttons, slowly revealing my chest to the blessed chill of the air conditioning.

For the most fleeting of moments, I felt some relief. I rubbed over my heart. Was I having a heart attack?

Each beat of my heart thudded in my ears, a deafening drumroll of agony. I clutched at my chest, gasping for breath, beads of sweat forming on my forehead. In that moment, I wished for death.

And then, I looked down.

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