REID POV
I amble across the packhouse grounds in the early hours of the morning, another light dusting of snow falling around me and sprinkling the grass like powdered sugar on a pancake. Without my permission, my eyes lift to the mountains in the east, where the snow clings a little stronger to the ground and the pine needles, up towards where I know Silver Ridge’s borders are.
I can’t see the pack from here, but I know the exact spot on those hills where their lands begin. It’s my job to know.
That’s the only reason I’m looking. To make sure no one is wandering too close to that line where our border ends and theirs begins. Not because of a certain exquisite mahogany-skinned she-wolf who lives there. Definitely not because of that.
I wonder what she’s doing.
“Goddess, damn it,” I mutter, tearing my eyes away and gluing them to the path in front of me.
My wolf whimpers in my mind, tugging against my control to get me to look over there again.
“Not going to happen, mangy mutt!” I say under my breath, glancing around to see if anyone is nearby to witness my crazed arguing with my inner beast.
This must have been how Wesley felt that week he didn’t talk to or see Haven. They didn’t even know they were mates yet at that point, but I remember how testy and on edge he was during that time, and I remember him mentioning his lycan driving him nuts. Lycans are naturally more active and present in their human’s minds than regular werewolves, anyway, so his lycan must have been extra vocal and annoying during that week.
And now that I’ve met my mate, my wolf has decided he wants to act more like a lycan than a werewolf.
Or maybe more like a fool. A love struck, infatuated, fool.
He’s been a hot f*****g mess since last night. The sleep I thought would help did not, in fact, help. Because I didn’t get any sleep. He kept me up most of the night, pacing, whining, and growling at me for letting her go back to her pack.
It didn’t matter that I kept reminding him I’m going to reject her. It probably won’t matter to him until the bond between Taryn and I actually severs. But I will remind him as much as I have to.
Because I will be rejecting her. Once I have sorted out all this weird s**t with her not feeling the bond.
I wasn’t going to agree to see her on Monday for a training session, even though I was the one who had offered it in the first place. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it might work in my favor. If I see her again, then maybe I can get some more clues about why she didn’t feel the mate bond between us.
A lone figure jogs down the path towards me, cheeks tinted pink and sweat staining his t-shirt, both showing he’s probably on the tail end of his morning run. I cross all my crossables that Wesley won’t see me or, at the very least, he’ll just say “hi” and go on his merry way back to his mate, but of f*****g course, he decides to stop and strike up a conversation with me.
His footsteps slow and he puts his hands on his hips, breathing in and out, his breath making those little clouds of mist in the air and melting the powdered sugar snowflakes as they fall to the ground. I hold back my groan and clench my teeth.
He may be my best friend and my alpha, but I am not in the mood for small talk today. I have too much on my plate with everything going on with my mate.
I mean Taryn.
“Morning, Alpha Wesley,” I say.
I don’t have to address him with his title. He’s told me before I can just call him Wes or Wesley — even out on the pack grounds — and he won’t get upset. But it’s a matter of respect. I’d give that respect to him no matter what, but he’s more than earned it over the years. He’s still a cocky bastard at times, but he’s also a good friend, a tenacious leader, and the type who stands up for what he believes in and those in need.
“Good morning to you too, Beta Reid,” he replies, addressing me with my title too, as he sweeps his hair away from his forehead before putting his hands back on his hips.
Both his hair and his beard have gotten longer than he normally keeps them. I’m guessing he’s waiting until closer to the wedding for a trim. Or maybe Haven digs that lumberjack, mountain man, trying to be a bear look.
“What are you doing up so early on a Saturday?” he asks.
“I’m going to the pack library. What about you?”
“I’m heading into town. Haven has a rehearsal, and I told Nolan he could take the day off. Then we’re having lunch with Haven’s sister and niece.” He c***s his head at me and raises a brow. “Wait. Did you just say you’re going to the library?”
“Yes?”
“Why?”
“To read?” His brow raises more. “What? I read!”
“Yeah… Animorphs and Goosebumps in elementary school do not a reader make.”
“Hey, those are quality pieces of literature!” I declare.
“Says who?”
“Says me!” I huff, crossing my arms. “And I’ve read other books too! I like Stephen King and Michael Crichton and Neil Gaiman and—“
“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, lifting his hands and cutting me off. “Seriously, though, why are you going to the library?”
“I’m going to do some research.”
“For what?”
“New training methods. Double checking some of the warrior laws for the kingdom.”
It’s not totally a lie. I am planning to dig into both of those topics in addition to searching for answers about my mate bond.
Because ever since my date with Taryn, I’ve been thinking of what she said about Alpha Dominic not letting her try for a warrior position and having to earn it by going back to the basics, back to the bottom of the pecking order. It’s not right, and I’m sure there must be a law about it somewhere. I just need to find it.
“Anything I can help with? Or do you want me to ask Sebastian to work with you?” he asks.
“No!” I yell, with more abruptness than I meant to. “No, I — I’ve got it,” I amend, waving him off. “You enjoy your day with your luna and her family.”
He smiles at that and returns my wave as he continues on his way, jogging backwards.
“Oh, I definitely will,” he murmurs before turning and heading off towards his house, disappearing around the bend in the path.
I turn and continue on my way as well, and I thank Selene I don’t get waylaid by anyone else before I reach the library. I’m too tense and on edge to have something that even resembles a normal conversation right now.
I gave Mrs. Appleton a cursory nod as I enter the building. She retired from teaching in the pack’s elementary school years ago, but she volunteers in the library to keep herself busy. She smiles at me, but doesn’t say anything. She must register that “man on a mission” vibe I’m giving off, because usually she’d stop me to ask about Wesley and Haven. She loves to remind everyone she is the reason our alpha and luna met in the first place.
I grab the sticky notes and pen I snitched from Wesley’s office out of my pocket as I wake up the library catalog computer, then type in the keywords for the topics I’m researching. Hopefully, this search will be more fruitful than the internet search I did last night when I couldn’t sleep.
All I got from that search was a bunch of terrible romance novels written by humans about werewolves and other supernatural creatures. I didn’t even know they wrote about us like that, but it’s apparently a very niche market of romance novels. The weirdest part, though, was how much they got right about us and the way our bonds work. There was a lot that was wrong, too, but I guess that makes sense when they’re writing about something they assume isn’t even true, and have no real-life experience to draw from. They have to just make it up.
The library search will for sure be more productive than that search, since actual werewolves and other supernatural beings wrote and curated all the information here. Instead of humans making up wild and inaccurate stories about us and how we treat our mates and other beings.
I jot down a list of books on the mate bond that all look promising, then search for books on the other two topics I came to research. Then, on a whim, I type in one more query, search for one more topic that may help with both the mate bond problem and with the training I’ve promised to do with Taryn — information about smaller than normal werewolves.
That could very well be the reason — or at least part of the reason — she doesn’t feel the mate bond between us. Maybe shifters with smaller wolves feel it later than 21 years old? I’ll also need to adjust some of our wolf form exercises as well, so I can make sure I don’t hurt her, and so I can focus on the specific skills and abilities she needs to employ to make up for her size in a fight.
My blood boiled when she told me her alpha used her wolf’s small size against her. That he or anyone else would ever underestimate her. The size of our wolves isn’t what determines if we’re capable as warriors. It’s our willingness to learn, work hard, and build up our strength and our abilities. A larger wolf with no training or practice in fighting is more of a hindrance than a smaller wolf who has worked their way through a solid warrior training program.
And my blood didn’t just boil at that information because of the mate bond. I would feel this way no matter what, because I can’t stand when others are judged by what they are rather than what they can do. I get pissed when people even hint that Haven can’t properly help the pack as the luna since she isn’t a werewolf. Just like Wesley has proven himself as our alpha, she has more than proven her worth and her capability as our pack’s luna, even though she is “just” a human.
But no one from our pack feels this way. It’s usually outsiders who have doubts, although those doubts are usually erased by the time they leave the pack, once they see her poise and emotional strength, and how her mandatory ballet classes for all pack members have drastically improved our pack’s agility and flexibility. Imagine their reactions if they knew she was Selene’s daughter, too.
So no. It isn’t just the mate bond making me angrier than a honey badger. Although it may be amplifying everything. It is definitely ramping up my protective instincts, that’s for damn sure. But that’s all it is. Just the mate bond.
Just my wolf.
“Um, Beta Reid?”
I whip my head around and glare down at the teenager interrupting me. “What?!”
“I need the catalog,” she says, eyes downcast and feet shuffling on the floor.
I blink at her, then look behind her at the line of high school and college aged pack members standing in a line, waiting to use the device I’ve been hogging as I zone out and think about my mate.
I mean Taryn.
“Oh,” I say. “I’m sorry. Here you go.”
I grab my notes and my pen and walk away, heading towards the stacks to find the books that I need.