Dear Enemy, You're My Mate

Chapter 4

Patricia

My pace slows when I get to a clearing, and I stop to stand in the newly fallen snow. I peer up at the sky, only to lower my gaze and find a cream-colored wolf staring at me with a curious expression.

I fold my ears and glance to the side, uncertain if I should run away. The other wolf approaches me with confidence, and my eyes widen when a second wolf joins their side. They are both cream—luna and alpha, and the one walking up to me smells like a female.

On the brink of a second, the wolf shape-shifts into a blonde woman, who smiles at me. Her hair reaches down to her shoulders, curled to perfection, while her face is the epitome of angelic.

"Hello, there!" The woman waves at me. I don't think she is much older than me, possibly around twenty-five. "What are you doing on our turf, little rogue?"

Swallowing, I decide to turn back into a human. The chilled air bites my milky skin, and I stand there shaking while the snow circles from the sky. My lips quiver, and I notice the other wolf has shape-shifted into none other than William, the alpha of the Summerburst pack.

He is standing there, staring at me with his mouth half-open. The blonde girl is his mate, but those honeycombs eyes are glued to me, following my every movement as if he has seen no one like me before.

A blush warms my cheeks, and I smile until the woman invades my bubble. Her eyes are enormous, and she leans forward as I press my back into an oak tree.

"Wow!" She breathes warm air into my face. There is a mate-bond binding her to William—I can smell him on her, but their appearances are scarily similar. They are both blondes with flawless, tanned skin and all sharp-angled faces. "You're beautiful!"

Is she blind?

With my dull hair, whiter than a ghost complexion, and the inability to get sun-kissed, I've never considered myself beautiful. I can make myself look like a doll with the right makeup, but I've put on some pounds since I turned nineteen.

And I'm not ashamed of my body. Still, I understand some people don't like women who are all curves. Dior, for example, called me big Patty, which hurt my self-esteem.

"Uh..." I'm pressing my palms against the ice covering the trunk behind me, aware of it melting. My heart is trying to claw its way out through my chest. I wouldn't say I like proximity to other people. "T-Thank you?"

The woman beams at me. "My name is June, and I'm the luna of the Summerburst pack. Tell me, stranger, why have you left your pack and decided to become a rogue?"

"Stranger?" I can't help but laugh and nod up at her mate standing on the hill above us. "William and I go to the same upper secondary school—seriously, are all werewolves like this? When did we stop being human and only focus on our pack ranks? Are you pretending you don't know me because you haven't met me outside of school?"

Wonder fills William's eyes, and holy pancakes if my heart doesn't pound. I know he has completed the mating ritual with June already, but his eyes, so warm and curious, are awakening memories of when I used to sit behind him in class. We were only fourteen years old, and I used to play sweet reveries of him turning out to be my future mate.

Those days were so sweet, and since the man is checking out my rack with his eyes bulging out of their sockets, I silently return the favor by lifting my eyebrows and going straight for his crotch and—holy mother of god, what is that thing?! It's huge!

I return my eyes to June. She is paying attention to my face, with wrinkles forming on her forehead. Indeed, she must know I checked out her man, but she ignores it.

"You're a weird one, aren't you?" She asks. "The tone you used made it sound like you're a werewolf hater."

"I might as well be one."

June looks flabbergasted. Meanwhile, her mate cracks up. My eyes lift to William, who comes sliding down the slope.

William doesn't look perfect—his nose is slightly crooked from when he had a fistfight with Dior. I believe William called him a pimple-faced brat, and sadly, Dior beat his ass. And then there are his pointy canine teeth, but it adds character to his warm smile. Overall, William seems like a nice guy, and it makes him stunning.

"I've never heard a werewolf display so much hatred for their kind in the mere tone of their voice," William hovers above me, this tall, hulking thing with prying eyes. "I'm also curious—what is tiny rogue doing alone in our woods?"

Irritation swirls within me, and I step forward, poking my finger into William's chest. His eyes widen, and he stares down at my hand in silent awe before lifting his eyes to mine as I step forward. Without hesitation, I back the bigger man into a slight hole in the ground.

"Listen here, goldilocks, I'm not tiny rogue or little wolf, and you won't use another belittling nickname—do you copy?"

William blinks at me. His gaze seers into mine. Something unsettling sparkles in his eyes, a weird mix of emotions I can't decipher—for one second, I think it's deep desire. But then his gaze flickers to his mate, and I stand there, realizing what a fool I am.

"I like this one," William announces. "Can we recruit her? Her name is Patricia, and she is excellent at baking."

How does Williams know I love baking?

I spin around and let my eyes dart after June as she circles me. She is wearing an approving smile, stifling a laugh when she spots me eyeing her with suspicion.

"How about this—if you bake me scones for breakfast, we let you sleep inside our humble mansion. Sounds fair?"

I stand straighter. "What is the catch? I need a place to stay, but I'm not interested in joining a new pack."

June smiles, placing a cold hand on my shoulder. "There isn't a catch, as you hinted at earlier—we are humans, too. And if we let you stay outside, you will most likely freeze to death."

I meet her eyes, deciding to trust her. "That is very kind of you."

We walk forward, and before we shape-shift, I note William is giving me an appreciating glance up and down. A hint of an embarrassed blush covers his cheeks when I catch him looking at me.

What the hell?

I'm having a hard time telling what William is all about—I stare at him questioningly, causing him to smile. Dimples form on his face, and then he chuckles. A tight second later, his eyes turn to the sky, and his feet get replaced by furry paws.

Damn, these people are quick at changing forms!

The cream-colored wolves rush past me, but for the rest time, I'm not left behind. Both wolves turn to face me, patiently waiting. A bubble of joy rises within me, and I hurry to join them.

Perhaps some werewolves are different?