She Will Be Mine (New Horizon Book 2)

Chapter 22: Jason

It’s Sunday again, which of course means family dinner time. For a little while after I first came back to pack grounds from Maine, my parents gave me a break from their constant hounding about finding a mate and having little Gamma pups of my own. But that reprieve was short-lived, and now they’ve crossed into new territory even for them. Lately, they’ve been trying to set me up with a selection of “nice, unmated she-wolves who would make an excellent Gamma female” every chance they get.

Which is why I appreciate that it’s Brian who greets me at the front door, so I at least get a few minutes of peace before the nagging starts.

“Hey man, I have to tell you something,” he says, grabbing my arm and spinning me around to lead me right back outside.

“Well, you’ve certainly got my attention,” I chuckle nervously. “What’s going on?”

“It’s a set up. Mom invited an unmated she-wolf to dinner, some daughter of one of her friends or something,” he warns me. “And I know me telling you that has you thinking you should turn around and run back the way you came.”

He’s right. It does. I’m not going in there to sit through an entire dinner with some girl I have no interest in flirting with me and trying to get my attention. I know just saying that I’m not interested won’t be enough. It never is.

“But hear me out, okay?” he continues. “The trick to handling these parents of ours is to let them think you’re giving them what they want. Play along, but go your own way outside of this house. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Um, no, not really. I don’t know if you remember how she-wolves are, but ‘playing along’ is only going to make it so I end up with this girl in my lap before I know it. And these girls they keep picking out, they’re power-hungry. Clout chasers, if you will. That girl in there is not going to want to ‘play’ at anything.”

“I hear you. I really do. But I’m not saying it has to be her. It could be anyone, someone you pick that you know and trust. Just bring them a ‘mate’ and they’ll leave you alone. Trust me,” he says, grinning as if he just told me a joke.

Well, if he did, I don’t get it. Wait, maybe I do.

“Are you saying that’s what you did?” I ask him.

“I am. And I still do it, every week like clockwork,” he reveals, his grin widening.

Now he has my mind racing with disbelief. He’s been bringing Tasha here for years. I’d have believed it if he told me this before they marked each other, but they’ve been marked and mated for well over a year now.

“No way. You went so far as to mark her. That’s well beyond ‘playing’ at being mates.”

“Did I?” he asks me, giving me an unsettling Cheshire smile now.

He reaches up to pull the neck of his shirt down to expose his mark to me.

“Take a look at that and tell me what you see,” he demands in a way that I can tell he expects I won’t see whatever I’m supposed to.

“Tasha’s wolf,” I answer after I’ve given up on figuring out the puzzle.

“Wrong. Look again. I know you know what Tasha’s wolf looks like. You see it a few times a week at training. What’s the most distinct feature about her?”

I stop and think about it, picturing the wolf in question. She’s a dark gray, almost black. Smaller than a ranked wolf, but stocky and strong. Brown eyes, black nose, oh wait. I know what he’s getting at.

“One of her front paws is white,” I finally answer.

“Correct. Now look at my mark again.”

And I do. Everything about the wolf is as it should be, except for the front paw. But even so, I never would have thought much of it if he wasn’t standing here demanding that I do. Sometimes, the details get lost in our marks.

“It doesn’t have her paw. Are you telling me that means you were marked by someone else?”

“I might be,” he smiles, obviously quite satisfied with himself. I still can’t tell if he’s just messing with me.

“You smell faintly of Tasha, though. How, if that’s not her mark?”

“She does live with me, and we might even sleep in each other’s’ dinner shirts every Saturday night. Maybe. Or maybe we don’t. You decide.”

“Who then? Whose mark is that?”

“Tasha’s as far as you know,” he insists on keeping up this game, full-on smirking at me now. “All I’m saying is go in there and play nice with your date, and then leave here and find yourself someone you can bring next time. And the time after. And the week after that. Every week until your real mate can finally come.”

“Is this why there are still no pups on the horizon for the two of you?” I can’t help wondering. It is odd, considering that they’ve been mated for so long. If they have been mated at all, that is.

His smile falls, replaced by a look of discomfort and maybe even nerves.

“Yeah, about that,” he says. “When we first thought up this scheme, I figured it wouldn’t be too long before you finally convinced that mate of yours to come home with you. So, I figured we could wait to tell Mom and Dad the truth until you were mated and maybe even had a pup on the way. They’ll take it better when they feel confident that our family line will continue. Of course, Sarah has some pups now, but they don’t carry the Levitt name.”

“So, whoever this mysterious mate is, you’re not planning to eventually have pups with her?”

“Him,” he finally reveals. “Not biological ones, anyway. Our father will not care if I eventually adopt or something like that. If they’re not a Levitt by blood, in his mind, they won’t have a chance at one day becoming Gamma, and you and I both know that’s what this is really about. So, once you have your mate and pups seem like a done deal, that’s when I’ll tell them the truth. He won’t care as much what I’m up to then.”

I don’t know how I managed to miss the signs. He’s my own brother, and we’ve always been close, but I had no idea. It leaves me with a lot of questions about Tasha, but she’s not my brother so that’s her business. And then it finally clicks.

“That’s why you didn’t want to become Gamma,” I realize aloud. “Oh man, it all finally makes sense.”

“Yeah, and it’s a good thing Alpha Aly pays attention to stuff like that. I didn’t even have to decline her. She just flat-out asked if I had other plans, and I said yes,” he says softly, and I wonder how much it actually bothers him that he’s given up so much for his secret mate. “But anyway, we should probably get in there before they come looking for us.”

I follow him back inside, my mind still stuck mulling over our conversation. I appreciate that he trusts me with his secrets, but his secrets are already starting to feel like my burdens. Not the part about keeping them, since that’s the easy part. It’s what it means for me that weighs heavily on me.

It means that until I bring Ronnie home, my brother and I are both in limbo. I’m waiting for my life to finally be moving forward in the direction I’ve always wanted, but so is he. And even worse, he’s waiting for me before he can have the life he wants and deserves.

Jeb and Sarah are already in the dining room, the baby asleep in the little portable cradle and their toddler sitting on Jeb’s lap playing with finger foods. I can see even before we turn the corner and come into the room that my dad is already in his seat as well, and I hear Mom talking to Tasha about the casserole. And thanks to Brian’s heads up, I’m not surprised to find the unwelcome guest sitting beside my usual seat, but I’m still unhappy about it.

“Oh, there you are,” Mom exclaims when we come in. “Jason, this is my friend Cynthia’s niece, Jamie. You remember Cynthia, right?”

Of course I remember Cynthia. Who could forget? She used to scare me when I was little because of how loud she is and how enthusiastic she gets about random little things. That doesn’t mean I’m happy to meet more of her family, especially not under the circumstances.

“Yes, nice to meet you,” is all I say before taking my seat, ready to get this over with.

“You too,” Jamie purrs at me, and I can already sense how she’s leaning my way and trying to get my attention. “Your mother has been telling me all about you.”

It doesn’t get more comfortable from there. Through the entire meal, Jamie does everything she can to try to demand my attention, but I don’t even look her way. I’m not interested, and I’ve learned that being polite with girls like this will only be perceived as an invitation.

But apparently, she doesn’t even need an invitation. Before long, I feel her hand on my leg just above my knee. I brush it off, but she seems to interpret that as a challenge to try again and do better the next time. Not long after, her hand is back, but she’s got it higher up my leg. I feel her squeeze my thigh, and it turns my stomach. The feel of her hand on me makes my skin crawl, and after she starts touching me, I’m left with this continuous feeling of dread and anticipation, not knowing when she’s going to try it again.

I think I might finally be getting a glimpse into what it feels like for Ronnie all the time, and why she doesn’t like people getting into her space or touching her. She’s told me before that it feels like her skin is crawling all the time, and anyone touching her only makes it ten times worse. If this is what it’s like to live in her body, it’s no wonder she’s always so anxious and uncomfortable.

Letting my mind drift to thoughts of my mate turns out to be a bad idea, though, because Jamie’s hand is back, and I think I’ve just been letting her keep it there. Ugh. I push her away again, but she gives me a smirk like she thinks we share some secret now. I really regret not just booking it back home when Brian told me this chick would be here tonight.

But I somehow manage to make it through the entire dinner, opting to skip out on dessert so I can get away from Jamie. I meet my mom in the kitchen as she’s slicing and serving the pies, carefully giving her a hug from behind.

“You’re leaving?” she asks, giving me a look that used to work on me and make me cave in and do whatever she wanted, but I think I’ve grown immune to it after all these years of her trying to manipulate me away from Ronnie.

“Yep, early morning tomorrow,” I remind her. Weekdays always start early.

“Well here, I’ll pack a couple slices for you to take with you,” she insists, already heading over to the cupboard where she keeps the Tupperware.

I’m not going to refuse that offer, though. I don’t like her taste in mates, but I love her baked goods.

“Jamie’s a nice girl, don’t you think?” she asks as she works on my pie.

“Uh … she’s something alright. I think I’ll pass on her.”

Mom sighs, and I notice her getting a bit more aggressive in her efforts to serve me some pie.

“Not everyone gets a happily ever after with a fated mate, okay? And you’re one of the unlucky people who got the short end of the deal on that. I’m sorry, but that’s just the fact of the matter, and it’s time you face it. You’re going to have to let the fantasy go, Jason. You have responsibilities, and it’s time you face those too.”

She thrusts the container into my hands, turning her back on me to continue loading her serving platter with the rest of the pie for everyone else.

Considering that my primary emotion seems to be anger, I turn and leave the kitchen without saying anything more to her. I’ve said it all before anyway, and right now, I need to get out of here before I do or say something I will regret. I don’t bother to go back into the dining room to say goodbye to anyone else either.

Instead, I take off running as soon as my feet hit the porch, and head in the direction of Clarice’s house. She finally talked to Aly about joining the pack a few months after I left Maine and has lived here for a year and some change. Over time, she’s also become my closest friend and companion, the two of us bonding over feeling like outsiders in our own lives and our shared affection for my mate.

“Any chance you’re in the mood for a run?” I ask her when she answers the door, and then glance down and remember the container in my hands. “Or pie?”

“Honestly, I could do with both,” she smiles, stepping aside to invite me in. “Pie first?”

“Run,” Finn answers on my behalf.

“Run it is then,” she agrees without hesitation. “Just drop your personal effects on that table there, and we’ll go.”