Rejected by Alpha, Collected by Dragon

Chloe I stand in front of the mirror, taking a little more time than usual for my hair and make-up. I’d carefully picked out an outfit that showcased my best assets- a short black skirt with sheer stockings and a low-cut royal blue top. I have a little more padding than most werewolves, having never been particularly athletic, but the tradeoff was that I have really nice t*ts. I adjust them in my bra that had taken nearly a month’s worth of wages to afford, but looking at my cleavage, I decide it was worth every penny. Today is my twentieth birthday, the day when I can finally be able to sense who my mate is as long as he’s the same age or older. I’ve been buzzing with excitement at the prospect of finally finding the one person who was made just for me all week. My wolf, Kitania, has spent the entire morning leaping in circles singing a silly song she’d made up, “Mate day! Mate day! Today is the day we meet our mate! He will see us across a crowded room, and rush to us! Throw us on a table and ravish us!” “Kit!” I laugh at her. “I’m sure he’s not going to do anything like that!” “He should!” she barks a laugh back at me. “We look hot!” “You know, we probably won’t find him today,” I remind her, trying not to get my hopes any higher than they were already. My mom used to tell me stories about how it used to be when your mate was almost always someone in your pack. Now, with interpack relations higher than ever with the invention of WolfChat, mates could be anywhere in the world. People liked to say that social media made the world so much smaller, but it really made it that much bigger, too. “Nah,” Kit scoffs at me, “I’ll bet you we find him today! Maybe it’s Dave?” “Dave?” I giggle at the thought. Dave is our delivery driver at work and he’s really nice. A little shy and reserved, but the man has arms like tanks and an ass I’d like to sink my teeth into. Not that I know what that’s like. I’m still a virgin. While it’s true I’d wanted to wait for my mate, I’d been completely open to doing other stuff with guys, Dave, for example. They never seem to look twice at me, though. I consider my high heels, but quickly push them aside for my flats. The heels would make my ass and legs look incredible, but I’d be on my feet all day, and it simply wasn’t worth the pain. Or the blisters. Giving myself one last appraising look in the mirror I shrug. This is as good as it’s going to get. I’m not bad looking. I’m average height, curvy, but in pretty good shape. My shoulder length, light brown hair varies from straight to wavy to curly depending on which part of it you were looking at. The only thing it was uniform about was the frizz that I could never seem to quite tame. I have a heart-shaped face with high cheek bones and full lips. My second favorite feature after my boobs are my eyes. They’re a light blue with a thin green circle around the pupils. If anyone bothered to look close enough, they’d see there are a few gold flecks in the blue of my irises. Looking at my watch, I groan. If I don’t hurry, I’m going to be late. I grab my apron and rush out the door, moving through the crowded streets as fast as I can. I work at Java Lobos, a locally run coffee shop a few blocks away from my apartment. The bell tinkles happily as I push inside, announcing my arrival three minutes past the start of my shift. “You’re late!” Brenda, my boss, calls out. “Sorry!” I give her my most sincere smile. “I thought maybe you’d met your mate on the way to work this morning, and I wouldn’t see you all day,” she laughs. “No such luck,” I shrug, tying my apron on. “But the day is still young!” “There are muffins in the oven,” she says, after handing a customer his cup of coffee with a smile. “If you plate them up for me, you can help yourself to one. Blueberry,” she adds with a wink. I let out a little squeal and race to get the muffins. Warm blueberry muffins with streusel topping are better than s*x. Well, at least until I’ve actually had s*x. I’ll reevaluate once I’ve found my mate. The morning was a steady stream of our regular customers. A few who liked to chat asked me if I’d found my mate yet, but most ignored my existence except to ask me for more napkins or sugar. I’m wiping down the tables after the morning rush when tingles start at the base of my spine. I stand up straight and turn slowly to the door where I see him. His eyes are fixated on me, a mesmerizing green that seem to pull me in. His sandy blonde hair is artfully styled to make it look like he just spent the day relaxing at the beach, his tanned skin smooth and flawless. He’s wearing a light grey suit, looking like he just stepped off the cover of a magazine. My head is pounding, my mouth goes dry, and it feels like every drop of moisture in my body has headed south between my legs. “Mate! Mate! Mate!” Kit is howling and yipping with excitement. “I told you! I so told you! I said we’d meet him today and there. He. Is! MAAATE!” “Shut up, Kitania,” I hiss at her. “Don’t you recognize him?” She stills slightly, peering out before giving a shrug. “So? He’s our mate,” she repeats with conviction. The man in question is none other than Alpha Dominick Canter. He only associates with the upper crust of our society and dates supermodels. I think I read in the tabloids that he’s currently dating the woman that was on this month’s cover of Wolf Illustrated. I have no idea what he could possibly be doing in our tiny coffee house. He stalks across the room towards me and my heart begins knocking against my ribs. “What is your name?” he asks, his voice deep and sensual. I purr as it washes over me, my eyelids growing heavy as I chase the air currents that might still contain the sound. “Can you speak?” he asks, annoyed. For a moment, I can’t speak even if I could remember my name. The feeling of my mate, being less than a foot away, talking to me, breathing in his scent, is overwhelming. I nod my head dumbly, trying to remember how to form words. “Chloe,” I finally manage to mumble. “My name is Chloe.” He stares at me for a couple of breaths, blinking as though waiting for me to continue. “Chloe what?” he huffs out at last. “Wright,” I squeak. He nods as though satisfied. “Then, Chloe,” I nearly swoon at the way says my name, so much so I nearly miss his next words, “I suppose I should start by apologizing.” I blink at him, not understanding. “I, Alpha Dominick Canter, reject you, Chloe Wright, as my mate.” No! No, this can’t be happening! Pain blossoms in my chest and I fall to my knees, tears already spilling unheeded down my cheeks before his words fully sink into my muddled brain. He turns and leaves without another word, the happy sound of the bell over the door signaling his departure makes me want to kill something. “Chloe, honey, come to the back room,” Brenda’s arms are lifting me, her voice full of concern as I fall apart. I don’t want comfort right now, though. I shake my head and pull away from her, crashing through the door, feeling like I might suffocate if I don’t get outside right now! People move out of my way as I stumble down the street, half blind and crazed by the pain of rejection. Vaguely, I become aware of too many eyes watching me make a spectacle of myself. I see a few people holding their phones up, no doubt filming my lowest moment. I’ll probably be famous for all the wrong reasons by the end of the day. Videos of my shame will be all over Pack Tube, probably set to some insulting music and dubbed with a voice over designed to make an even bigger fool of the wolf who wasn’t worthy of her mate. Seeking a place to hide, I duck down a dark alley, tripping over trash and soaking my shoe in a puddle of what I hope is water, but know it probably isn’t. I lean back against the rough brick wall of a building and let the sobs tear through me, clutching my chest. Kit whimpers in the back of my mind, confused and miserable. This was not how either of us had imagined the day.