Raula

I take a steadying breath and shoulder through the swinging door into the great room. Beer is already sloshing over the brim of the pitchers. I'm going to get dirty looks for that. 

Ulfred's lieutenants don't think much of me. They respect strength. Dominance. The wolf. I've got none of that. 

Well, I do have a wolf. I can feel her. But for some reason, I've never gone into heat, so I've never shifted. 

I want to meet my wolf. But what if I never get the chance to? I don't mind since the alternative is mating one of these meathead assholes. 

They avert their eyes as I pass, otherwise ignoring me. Which is fine. I feel bad for their mates, stuck on their laps or crushed to their sides, forced to listen to them recount old fights in excruciating detail—for the umpteenth time. 

"Hey, little wench!" bellows the bald ball head with a bush of beards that I have never taken time to know the name. I mentally roll my eyes and scurry along. "Hurry with the drinks. We don't have all night! We have families to go to!" he adds. His remark is applauded by a wave of roaring laughter from the packmembers behind their tables. 

It's a joke on me. I may be an unmated lone wolf in her late twenties with no biological family but I have my friends who treat me much better than I deserve.

I am used.

"Easy on the pup, Ed! You may scare the little pup out of her," Olcan remarks from the upper table, adding another wave of mocking laughs. 

My wolf is not a pup. She is a grown-ass female, even though she has never come out.

I am used to all the ridicule and abuse from my packmates. Ignoring the pain has been the only way for me to go through life as a lone female in the Starry Banes pack.

I'm skirting the edges of Ulfred's room, focused on the task at hand when Ulfred's voice booms from his makeshift throne on the dais. 

There is going to be a fight in here. Our beta, Blaze against Olcan. If Olcan wins, Blaez will have to step down, and Ulfred will have no right to deny him. Ulfred might be an arrogant asshole but Olcan and his team are the back-in-the-day kind of wolves who would prefer that we live in the caves and the females have no rights at all.

I don't know why I'm watching Ulfred. Usually, I avoid eye contact with higher ranks at all times. Saves a lot of getting asked to fetch something. 

Ulfred is not looking at me, though. He's intent on the fight. There's no clear favorite at the moment. It's a two-man rugby scrum. 

Ulfred watches, fingers steepled, gaze flickering from male to male. Our king. He's wearing a plain white tank top, faded jeans, and tan work boots. 

Ulfred should look basic, but he doesn't. 

His shirt clings to every defined muscle, and like his gargantuan wolf, he's in a whole other weight class than the other males. His jeans hug his thighs, and they're more solid, too. His sculpted shoulders are broader, his posture more arrogant, his dusky blue eyes flintier. 

Why am I looking at Ulfred Kessler's lips? 

I drop my gaze and my face blazes. It's the heat in here. It's muddling my brain. 

Ulfred Kessler is strong, but he's not attractive. He looks mean—which is what he's always been. 

Ugh. I press my legs tight together. Sweat is dribbling down my inner thighs and tickling the back of my knees. And my stomach's doing something weird. Do I have a fever? I can't get sick. 

Luckily, I make it past them to where Ulfred's cabinet sits next to the dais. From the way everyone treats the table like sacred ground, you'd think it'd be special, but it's like the others—worn laminate top, backless benches, wheels. 

"Took you long enough," Edon gripes as he grabs a pitcher, knocking my hand as he helps himself. I set the tray down and unloaded it. I don't bother to respond. I don't talk to dicks. 

"Get us some more." Edon shoves an empty bread basket at me. He doesn't meet my eye, just gnaws on a drumstick while he watches Blaez help Olcan off the floor.

I take a step toward the kitchen, but before I head back, I glance up at the dais. I have to. I'm called. It's instinct even though no one said my name. 

But there's only Ulfred, staring at me. 

Heat bursts from my core, surging down my limbs and leaving my toes and fingertips tingling. I hold onto the empty tray for dear life. 

Why is he checking me out? 

My heart thumps, echoing in my ears. 

And there's a new delicious aroma weaving through the usual beer and roast meat and other earthy pack smells. It teases my nose, warm and sweet and sticky in the best possible way. It's not coming from the kitchen. It's—I don't know where it's coming from. 

I inhale deeply, trying to shake off this weirdness, but now the lush, decadent scent is in my lungs. Excitement shoots through my veins, a flood of heat rising up and cresting, crashing through me. 

Heat. 

Of course. Oh, Fate, it's beyond obvious. That's why my brain is so slow. 

I'm going into heat. 

My wolf's ears shoot up. She yips and chases her tail. She's not really moving—it's how she feels. I'm anthropomorphizing her emotions. She's ecstatic. She can finally come out and play. 

I want to meet her so bad. Hope swells in my chest. She's gotten quiet these past few years, deflated, but she's letting herself be heard now. She's demanding. Whining. 

Outside, outside, outside. 

And then she changes her mind. No, him. 

Him, him, him. 

I raise my eyes to Ulfred's, and even though I know better, I can't force my gaze to lower. You don't meet an alpha's eyes. 

I bet he feels like when a summer storm rolls in and the clouds race and there's the sizzle in the air from the lightning. 

Mine, mine, mine. 

My wolf paws at my ribs. She wants out. I don't know how to let her, and this is crazy. I'm scared and shaking, but wild horses couldn't tear me away from devouring my alpha with my eyes. I need him. 

I'm sopping wet. Between the legs. My hand reaches down, searching. Oh, my. 

Mate. 

No. He's not my mate. No way. I'd have had an inkling. 

It's kind of a sassy purr. I press my palm above my breasts. Holy crap, my solar plexus is vibrating. Whoa. She's really in there. She's not a figment of my imagination. 

My eyes prickle. I'm going to shift. Finally. I need to get out of here. I need wide open spaces, room to run, and— 

Out of nowhere, without waiting for his nod of approval, Tasha saunters to the dais, steps up to Ulfred, wraps her arms around his neck, and shoves her boobs into his side. Then she rises up on her tiptoes and kisses him full on the mouth. He goes rigid. 

He doesn't avert his eyes. He's looking at me while she sucks his face. 

No. 

Ours. 

An inhuman wail—both a yowl and a roar—fills my ears from inside my skull. 

My spine rips out of my skin. 

I scream, collapsing to the ground. My joints break with a sick pop, and I lay powerless against the contortions, staring unblinkingly at the dais. Tasha's jaw has dropped. Ulfred's—holding himself back?

I leap, baring my fangs, snarling, every movement an agony as my body tries to reknit mid-motion, joints, and sinews mending as I simultaneously rip them anew. I mean to lunge, as I go for that bitch, snapping my teeth. 

He's mine. 

I raise my muzzle and howl. 

I bark at her. Shift, bitch. Fight me. Let him go and come. I'll tear your pelt from your hide. I'll destroy you for touching my mate. 

She snarls. Someone snaps, "No!" But in a moment, she's gone, and in her place, a snow-white she-wolf is looming over me. 

She's big. Three times my size, at least. 

She doesn't hesitate. She goes for my throat. Her fangs sink into my collarbone, a new, searing pain exploding through my already reeling brain, and I struggle, I fight like hell, but she's so much stronger, and I'm a mess. 

She rips a hunk of flesh from the bone, and I scream. She doesn't let go, flinging me side to side, slamming me against the floor. 

I snap my teeth, but my mouth closes on air. My claws glance off her thick coat and tough hide. 

I'm losing blood, fading by the second. The stink of copper is everywhere. My pack is going to let me die. They're going to watch me bleed out while they sop their dinner plates clean with bread I baked. 

"Enough," Ulfred roars. 

"Shift," he commands. 

My bones instantly obey, cracking again, even the broken ones, snapping back into place. For a few seconds, the pain dims everything. 

Tasha smirks, licking blood from her lips. 

I'm on the ground in a pool of blood. Scraps of my red-soaked shirt and pants litter the floor. I'm shaking hard, my teeth clattering. I struggle to sit, but I can't get my muscles to contract. Nothing's attached right, and I'm so weak. 

My wolf mewls for him. 

Help. 

His lip curls in disgust, but his eyes flicker blue to gold. 

"Stand up," he snarls. 

I can't. I don't have the strength, and everyone will see everything. 

"Stand up, or I'll drag you up." 

Summoning every scrap of energy I have left, I roll to my stomach and push up. I can't just stand; I think I have sprained my left knee. 

I stagger to my feet, exposing my butt, my belly, the wicked scraps on my thighs and calves. The shame scalds as hot as fire. 

"Why attack Tasha?" he demands. 

He knows why. Mates know each other instantly. Females go into their first heat, and it triggers some kind of magical chemical reaction. The male recognizes his fated mate, and then she recognizes him, and they fall in love and have young and live happily ever after. Or something like that. 

Ulfred lets out a growl that makes the tables wobble on their wheels. He's losing patience. 

"Speak for yourself," he says. 

"You know why I did." It's almost a whisper. 

He stalks down from his table to stand above me, stance wide and arrogant, as if he needs extra space for his dick to swing. He folds his arms, and his biceps bulge. I lick my lips. 

"Humor me," he says. 

Ulfred cocks his head expectantly. 

"You're my mate," I say. 

It had gotten almost quiet in the great room, but at my words, a wave of gasps, and a few sputtering laughs, ripple through the crowd. 

I hug an arm to my breasts and try to cover my pussy with my other hand. I'm the only one naked, and it's full bright. 

Everyone can stare at my nakedness at their leisure. 

"What was that?" Ulfred arches a brow, his dusky blue eyes daring me. 

"You're my mate." 

I know it like I know how to breathe. My wolf is even more certain. She's frantic, howling for acknowledgement. Rescue. Touch. 

The whole pack is waiting with bated breath to hear what he's going to say. Dread crawls up my spine with spidery fingers. 

"You are not my mate," he says. 

The words slam into me, rocking me back on my heels like a cannonball to the chest, not with surprise, but with a physical force. For a second, I lose balance, but my good leg doesn't fail. It firms right away. I'm still upright. 

My wolf wails. 

"Even if you were my mate, I can't hesitate. I reject you." 

He shakes his head. 

No!

My insides feel like they are being torn apart. The mate bond! I can feel it tugging, tugging so hard, I can almost feel it snapping.

"I Ulfred Kessler, Alpha of the Starry Banes pack, here by reject Raula Lockwood," he proclaims, standing upright with his chest high as if he is giving one of those proud moment Alpha announcements. There is a timed audible gasp from all the pack members, followed by scornful laughs.

"What were you thinking? That I,thd Alpha, would accept you, a lowly packslave, as my mate? You are so weak! How can you rule by my side as the Luna?"

I look away from him, because the pain is unbearable, but my eyes land on Tasha leaning into her mother's shoulder with a blanket wrapped around her.

She slowly opens her red lips to show off her perfectly even white teeth. A victorious grin She is the winner and I am the loser. I am not like her. I have no family, no rank, no one.

"You are not my mate!" his words now sound distant under all the disdainful laughs from the pack around us.

"You're confused. Go back to the kitchen."