Page 34 of The Alpha's Forced Bullied Mate

“Be good to your brother. You don’t know how long you have him.”

A voice in the back of my mind told me to wave my hand over Jimmy’s knee. Seconds later, the skinned flesh was repaired, and the blood was gone. I sat back on my knees thinking about how this had once happened in grade school. My classmates pointed at me and called me a freak.

As though reliving the moment, I stood up, brushed myself off, and hurried away.

Within minutes, the child was laughing again and running off as if he'd never been injured. Neither he nor his brother made any comment about my power. Jimmy paused to wave, smacking his brother’s side to do the same. I waved back.

Hector was waiting for me in the doorway of the workshop when I returned. I realized that there was so much more about this pack that had changed. So much more than I could have ever dreamed. People were giving me gifts. Children were waving at me. Hector was defending me against my parents.

Was it worth it to stick around?

“Cool trick,” Hector teased. “Can you show me how to do that sometime?”

My lips flattened into a disappointed line. Mortimer gave one of those full-bellied laughs again and took a sword from the wall. It was a cold steel sword with an English backing and a handle that curved right over my fingers as if they were made just for me.

Although it was long, it was light and easy for me to hold, surprisingly enough. Mortimer sighed as if he was looking upon something amazing. “I think that is exactly the sword for you, don't you think, miss?”

I looked it over, seeing how the light winked off the blade as I turned it this way and that. I admired it so much. I'd already formed an attachment to it. And with the beaded necklace, the flowers, and now the sword, I felt my heart was about to burst.

“Every good sword needs a name,” Mortimer commented as he gestured to the blade. “What do you think? Listen closely. Let it speak to you.”

I focused on the steel, noticing how much care and attention went into making it, thinking about all the names I'd known throughout my life. There was one that stood out, a customer who used to come in all by herself and sit in the corner to drink a small cup of coffee and munch on a bagel. She oncemade a man tuck tail and run for harassing me. Even as small as she was, she was sharp and strong.

Light, strong, small—yes, I thought I had the perfect name.

“I think I'll name her Maya.”

Mortimer smiled. “A fine name, miss. She’ll do you well.”

“A very fine name,” Hector praised, and I looked at him, noticing his look of approval and noticing how good it felt to receive it from him.

In that moment, I was certain that I was right where I belonged.

Chapter 11 - Hector

Friday came too slowly. Though it was only a day later, it felt like I had waited eons to participate in the mating ritual, in the very tradition that would determine the course of my life, my leadership, my family. As soon as night fell, I began my preparations, nearly rushing through every step just to get to the door.Finally.

The moment I stepped outside, I could smell her. The air was rich with peaches and cream, a scent I'd come to know inside of my home. Another scent came with it, patchouli, a decadent aroma that grounded me into the earth. Much like her, I felt like that scent was my salvation. It would lead me to the future—one that would be secure enough for us all.

Faye wasn't the type to wear things like perfume, but I knew she liked to put oil in her hair to take care of it. As I stepped out into the yard, it made me think of this morning when I heard her caring for herself in the bathroom, the one upstairs that we shared. All her haircare products had been left out. Most of the things I disregarded, but one of them, the patchouli, was the one that I paid the most attention to. It was an interesting scent for a woman to have; forherto have. And for whatever reason, I knew it to be our connecting aroma.

I walked to the woods with my crew, Adrian included, to commence the mating ritual. The evening was chilly, and the moon was already on the rise. I could feel my inner wolf growing restless, wanting very much to shift, knowing that the ritual would solidify more than my place as alpha.

It would cement my place as Faye’s mate.

I tilted my head to the sky and inhaled her scent repeatedly. She would be hidden among a group of women whowould also be running alongside her, around her, ahead of her. We weren't permitted to see each other before the ritual began, so I had no clue what she was wearing other than brown robes. By the sound of it, her dance had commenced in the forest with the others.

Chuckles echoed from the trees. The sound of feet pounding the ground mixed with the clang of sticks banging against branches or trunks and rocks being thrown. All the things that were supposed to distract me from finding my mate. This was the hardest part of the ritual, the women causing all these distractions, trying to deter me from my course.

My chest swelled with anxiety.What if I catch another woman by accident?

No, there wasn’t any time for doubts. I had to focus on what I knew inside of me to find Faye. As soon as we reached the edge of the woods, the sound intensified, and I turned to my wolf brethren. Cliff stood next to Adrian with the others behind him, everyone chanting, “For the pack, bring her back.”

They said this repeatedly. They started beating their chests as they chanted, making grunts and animalistic sounds in between words. The longer they stood there and sang to me, the greater my resolve. Their howls rose above the racket coming from the woods, encouraging me to face the trees and tilt my head back.

I spread my arms wide while inhaling the chaos around me. The drumbeat of my brothers, the way that their grunts and growls filled the air, the way it sounded like war was happening just outside of my peripheral vision was intoxicating. It reminded me of the hunt, the chase I was about to embrace. It was a warning against those near and far, those that meant us harm—we were one, and we would never be defeated.

Soon, the drumbeat begged me to strip away my clothes. I stood naked with my fist raised, howling at the sky. That was when my skin began to tingle. The shift always came on differently for everyone. For me, it was a hard and fast, a rapid assault on my body. The fur often exploded in tufted waves, and then my snout extended. I crouched on all fours and felt the way my bones broke, reassembled, reset. The way my teeth popped out hurt the most, sharp teeth pushing my human bone aside to make way for the wolf’s.

---