Page 48 of Rejecting his Mate

Her concern for wolves I consider as close as blood warms me. “They can handle themselves.”

She leans back against the counter, still clutching the can of soup. “Because they’re vargr?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m still not really sure what that is.”

I rub my nose before I take the can from her and open a drawer near the stove. Finding the can opener, I place it on the lip and open it. “We don't either, and that's who we are. There’s a lot of legend and mythology about us. We’re Torsten’s children, but all wolf shifters are of his line, so I don’t know how we became what we are.”

“And I’m a tau, whatever that means.” She says the last part quietly.

“Tau are like vargr.” I lean into her, and I don’t miss the little shiver that runs through her body. “We’re both myths, and neither of us is meant to exist.”

“And yet we do.”

I pull away to grab a pot and empty the soup into it. I can’t look at her while I do, trying to control and calm my wolf, who is pacing anxiously, whining.

Halle eyes it with a hint of uncertainty. “Are you sure this is safe to eat? Most of the stuff in your kitchen should come with a biohazard warning.”

We both reach for the can at the same time, and my wolf roars the moment our skin touches. The instinct to push her onto the floor and take her is overwhelming. I want to be inside her. I want to claim her as mine. My body feels wired tight, like a spring too tightly coiled.

Fisting my fingers into balls at my sides, I try to shove my wolf and his desires down. It’s a fight. He doesn’t want to be silenced. He wants her.

I want her too, but she belongs to another, even if it is not by choice.

I stumble back from her, unable to be in her space any longer. Halle’s confused step toward me has my hands raising. “Don’t,” I gasp out in desperation. If she touches me again, I’m going to lose the tiny bit of control I have over my emotions.

“Cade… are you alright?”

“The soup needs a few minutes on the heat.” I stagger out of the kitchen toward the front door. My throat feels closed up and tight. I need air.

I hit the door heavily, fumbling for the handle. As soon as I get it open, I lurch forward and sag against the railings of the porch.

My chest feels as if a house is sitting on it, and the tightness around my lungs is making it hard to breathe.

I grip the rails, trying to drag air into my chest. What the fuck was that?

Her scent infuses my nose again, and I spin to see her standing in the doorway. Her cheeks and neck are flushed, her expression a little wild. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. “It’s not you. It’s my wolf. He’s… out of control.”

That statement should scare her, but she doesn’t move away or try to calm me.

“There was a connection between us, more than I’ve ever felt between me and Dalton.”

“Yeah,” I agree, “but it doesn’t mean anything. My wolf is difficult sometimes, and he doesn’t like to take no for an answer. You’re mated. He shouldn’t want you because of that alone.”

He shouldn’t. I can smell her mate on her, too, faint but still there. And then there’s the claiming mark. I tear my gaze from her, urging my wolf to calm himself.

“You think this connection is because you’re a vargr?”

I don’t know, so I just shrug.

“I want this mark off me,” she says, scratching her fingers over it. “How do we do that?”

“It’ll fade on its own in time.”

She takes this in with a tight jaw. “I hate him.”

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