You Will Be Mine (New Horizon Book 3)

Chapter 4: Gabe

With my curiosity getting the better of me, and my wolf nudging me to trust him, I follow as Tyler leads me into the living room, where my mom and some of my siblings are gathered. I notice that Aaron and Gideon are missing, as well as Stirling, who rarely makes it to these family dinners unless it’s a special occasion.

“Where’s Jeannie?” he asks, glancing around the room the same as I’m doing.

“In the shower, I think,” Mom answers him.

She doesn’t even glance up, seeming to be combing out Stella’s hair just like she’s done her whole life, although Stella is 20 now and should be doing it herself. In her defense, her hair is a massive mop of long, thick, dark curls and can be quite a pain to tame, or so I’m told.

“Oh, alright. Well then where’s Matt?” he asks next.

“In her room putting up those shelves,” Mom answers the same way as before. “Did you need him?”

“Well, sort of. I just thought he should be here to witness this. We’ll need Jeannie, though, so there’s no rush.”

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Mom demands, setting the comb down so she can devote all her attention to figuring him out.

Right? That’s how I’ve been feeling about whatever has him all excited and his inability to tell it to me straight.

I notice her eyes go hazy like they do when she’s communicating with mind-links, and it irritates me that they’ve decided to have a private conversation instead of just explaining what is even going on here. This is almost more infuriating than if they’d invited the Indigo Moon girl for dinner.

“Would someone please just tell me what’s going on? What is the smell already?” I force myself to ask as calmly as possible, knowing they won’t appreciate me losing my temper.

“I don’t smell anything,” Isaac chimes in unhelpfully.

And then my wolf starts going nuts in my head. I can feel him literally spinning in circles, hopping around as he goes. This is the most animated and present he’s ever been other than the rare occasions where he’s bothered to show himself just to rage at me. Other than that, it’s only been angst, agitation, and endless pacing and howling in misery and loneliness. He’s never even told me his name, already deciding he didn’t like me enough the very first day I met him because I’d lost my virginity to some girl at the training camp I attended shortly before coming of age.

I hear footsteps coming down the hallway and look up to see a girl making her way toward us. Something in me starts tugging me in her direction and my feet start to move before I can think too much about it.

Mate! I hear my wolf yell to me as I get close enough to look in her eyes.

After that, things get weird. He pushes himself forward, forcing me back so that I’m no longer in control. He’s never done that before, and I’m not certain how to fight him back.

I can still sense everything he can, even more acutely than before thanks to him being fully on board for once. I get it now. That scent was coming from her, and somehow my dad knew it. I still don’t get the part about the farmer, but as promised, my mate is human. If everything else he said about her is true, then I only hope my wolf was listening and isn’t about to freak her out and scare her away.

He reaches out to gently touch her face, my fingers gliding across one smooth cheek and then the other before coming to rest, my hand cupping one of her cheeks as my thumb strokes her skin softly.

“Is that happening because of his wolf?” she asks, and it takes me a second to realize she isn’t talking to me, but to Tyler.

“Yes, his wolf is coming out to see you. I think he likes you,” he tells her.

The way he is standing so close to us, protectively almost, I think he’s nervous that he might need to intervene if my wolf does something stupid.

Good. I barely know my wolf and have no idea what he’s capable of. On the other hand, my wolf has been waiting for this moment for a long time. Something tells me he’ll behave. The last thing he wants is to scare her off.

“That’s really cool,” she says, laughing excitedly and looking me directly in the eyes.

She must see that they’ve changed with my wolf coming out, or maybe they’re doing that flipping back and forth thing that happens when the man battles the wolf for dominance. Which is what I’m doing. This is my moment too, and I don’t want him hogging it.

I take the opportunity to study her eyes since they’re right there. I’ve never seen eyes quite like hers, a deep, dark blue that borders on violet. Ironically, I think the color might be called indigo. There are flecks of a darker color I can’t quite identify as well as some gold toward the center. Beautiful.

Then I spend a moment studying her smooth skin, the cute little nose that turns up slightly at the end, the sprinkling of freckles across it, and the full set of lips I can’t wait to kiss. Her long hair is about as dark as my mom’s at the roots, but it fades into a deep violet that lightens toward the ends. It’s the coolest hair color I’ve ever seen, and I don’t know how she managed to get all those purple tones blended into it. It’s not at all what I expected from someone my dad described as “innocent” and “unworldly,” but I love it. It suits her and brings out her eyes.

To my delight, she’s been studying me just as intently this whole time until finally she brings her hand up to stroke the scruff on my face. I wouldn’t exactly call it a beard, but I haven’t given much thought to shaving in a few days. Maybe a week. I didn’t know I was meeting my mate today.

A gasp involuntarily escapes my mouth when she touches me, startling me with how suddenly and confidently she does it.

Her eyes seem to light up as she exclaims, “Whoa!” and moves her hand to my mouth, delicately running her thumb over the point of one of my incisors.

“Are your teeth like this all the time or just when your wolf comes out?” she asks me, and I realize she means the sharp, pointy, elongated incisors of my wolf aspect.

“Just when I’m here,” my wolf explains.

It’s the first time anyone is hearing how he affects my voice, and I can hear some excitement about it from my family behind us. I’d almost forgotten they were still there.

“Do you like them?” he asks next, and I can sense how hopeful and vulnerable he feels as he eagerly awaits her response.

“Yeah, they’re cool. Sharp though, but I suppose that helps you hunt.”

He’s relieved that she’s not disgusted or afraid of him, and he’s unable to resist getting closer and soaking her in as much as he can. He pulls her against my chest and buries my face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent deeply and allowing it to comfort and soothe his lonely, restless heart.

“I guess he really does like me,” she comments, laughing nervously and squirming a little in my arms.

She’s been really understanding and receptive this whole time, but I guess that was a bit much, even for her. Seeming to recognize that and not wanting to upset her, my wolf slinks away to the back of my mind and allows me to take over again.

“Sorry about that,” I apologize sheepishly, loosening my hold on her so she can reclaim her personal space.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” she assures me. “It’s the first time I’ve seen one of your inner wolves, so I actually enjoyed that quite a bit. He’s gone now, though?”

If I’m not mistaken, she sounds a little disappointed about that.

“Sort of. He’s not in control anymore, but he’s still in here. I can feel him in my mind even when it’s me in control,” I explain to her.

“That’s the first time I’ve ever seen you lose control, Gabe,” Mom chimes in, though when I turn to her, she’s smirking at me knowingly. She knows exactly why I lost control.

What she doesn’t know is that it isn’t because I quickly mastered handling my wolf that they have never seen me lose control. It’s because he usually doesn’t care enough about anything I think, feel, or do to intervene. Other than when I let him out to run, allowing him to have full control and trusting that he’ll eventually get tired or hungry enough to let me take over, it’s just me in here. Even when I get angry and agitated, it’s all me. They’re in for the surprise of their lives now that he’s found something that interests him.

Jeannie doesn’t know about mates yet, my mom warns me over mind-link. We’ve been letting her direct the conversations about werewolves, and she hasn’t shown much interest, so we haven’t told her much.

So that’s her name. Jeannie. It’s cute. Now that I think of it, Tyler said that already when we first came in here.

“Is that all the shapeshifting you do, or can you turn into one of those wolf-man things?” Jeannie asks me timidly. “I hope that’s not offensive, but I don’t know how to describe it.”

“You’re thinking of Lycans,” I can’t help chuckling a little, amused at her description but at the same time, pleased that she even wants to know. “We do shift into our wolf forms, though. Bigger wolves than you’re probably used to, but just as furry, four-legged, and lovable.”

“Oh, I see. Well, that’s way better. I like wolves,” she tells me, smiling a smile that reaches all the way up to her eyes and into my heart, gripping me in a way I’ve never felt before.

“I can show you, if you’d like.”

“Outside, and after dinner,” Mom insists, gesturing in the direction of the dining room. “Which is ready, by the way, so let’s eat.”

Spoilsport. I wanted to show Jeannie now and see what she thinks. I have a feeling she’ll be excited, judging by the smile she gave me when I told her we shift into actual wolves.

I take her by the hand as we follow the rest of my family to the dining room. The blush that rises to her cheeks when our hands touch is not only adorable, but also intriguing. Why didn’t she blush like that when we were face-to-face and touching each other more intimately?

In fact, her whole demeanor is a bit different. Shyer, with less eye contact as she talks to me. She seemed so bold when my wolf was out to see her. As strange as it feels to even think it, I can’t help wondering if she’s more comfortable with my wolf than with me.

Shaking it off, mostly because it makes no sense, I focus on the manners my parents taught me but that I rarely use with other women.

It’s too risky to be a gentleman with a girl you don’t plan on sticking with. They tend to quickly develop feelings, and that’s not fair to them. I’ve always stuck with the tactic of being a jerk to them so they won’t try to come back for more. And sadly, it only works some of the time.

But with Jeannie, I can’t even help it. I want to be a gentleman and someone she can easily fall in love with.

I pull out her chair and help her get settled, automatically choosing the seat right next to her. I find myself tuning into every little thing she does and says, wanting to learn more about her but also being drawn to her as if some magnetic force won’t let my eyes look away or my hands spend too much time without touching her. Little touches, nonthreatening touches that hopefully aren’t making her uncomfortable, but that electric, tingly feeling that surges between us is addictive.

“All the materials we need to build your chicken coop have come in, so we can work on that tomorrow,” Matt announces, though I haven’t been paying attention to the conversation going on, so I don’t have a clue what he’s talking about or who he’s saying it to.

“Oh good,” Jeannie responds, seeming relieved. “And the shed?”

“Yep, that too. That’s probably being installed now, in fact.”

Apparently, Jeannie likes chickens as well as wolves.

“Good. Once we get them settled in and comfortable, they’ll start giving us eggs again. They’re too nervous right now,” she explains to him.

I can’t help smiling about how concerned she seems for these chickens. I’ve never given much thought to the comfort of creatures I eat for dinner, but it’s heartwarming to see that it matters so much to her. The fact that my parents are going to such lengths to help her feel at home here is appreciated too.

And then it occurs to me that I have no idea why she’s even here in the first place.

“How did you guys meet Jeannie?” I question the table, not knowing who it was that met her and invited her to come stay with my parents.

“I suppose you wouldn’t recognize her, considering that her grandpa always made sure to hide her away whenever we came around. Plus, it’s been years since I took you there with me,” Matt hints mysteriously.

“Your family used to buy food from my grandpa’s farm,” Jeannie explains. “For years and years. His name was George Carpenter, and he died recently, so your dad brought me to stay here with your pack.”

I can feel my wolf spring to attention in my mind from all the information packed into her simple explanation and reach out to take her hand almost without thinking about it. Though she’s trying to be brave about it, I can tell she’s fighting back a lot of emotion when she tells me about her grandpa, and I can’t fight the urge to try to connect with her, comfort her if I can.

But I also know which farm she’s talking about. I remember her, and a sudden epiphany strikes me. It happened years ago, but it was right about when I first saw her that my wolf started getting unbearably restless on me. He didn’t identify her as my mate at that time, but something about her felt intriguing even then. She was obviously young, and I chalked my interest up to the fact that it was the only time I actually saw all of her. Usually, she was out of sight before we got to the barn, but that time I went in first and seemed to surprise her and her grandpa. She scurried away almost immediately after, but not before I saw her.

“Her grandpa told me he didn’t like the way you looked at her,” Matt chuckles, cutting through the intensity of my thoughts. “But he trusted me to bring her home with us anyway. He wanted her to go someplace where she’ll be safe and protected.”

“She will be,” I vow without hesitation.

I know it because I’ll see to it myself. More than that, I’ll make sure she has everything she could ever want or need. Those chickens of hers will live like queens, and she’ll never hurt or grieve for any reason ever again if I can help it.