Page 59 of Rejecting his Mate

I ignore Cade and focus on Sawyer, who has a medical kit open on the bed next to Jackson. The room is small, with two queen-sized beds. I doubt we’ll be staying here too long. It’d be too risky, but if we are, it’s going to be cozy.

I don’t want to think about where everyone is sleeping. As long as I’m nowhere near Cade, I’ll be fine.

I go into the bathroom, needing breathing space. When I’m finished, I move to the basin and do a double take as I catch my reflection in the mirror. My face is a mess, as is my throat. There are horizontal bruises lining my skin—Dalton’s fingerprints, I realize.

Asshole.

My eyes are still bloodshot. The whites are completely overshadowed by the speckled red that has seeped in. It’s a cool effect, one that makes me look demonic. My ribs aren’t as painful as they were initially,making me think they’re bruised, not cracked or broken.

Fucking Dalton.

I hate that I let myself get pushed into that relationship. Even when Adeline and Klaus were encouraging it, I had doubts. I knew deep down that Dalton was not a good fit for me, but it is how things are done.

No one holds out for their fated mate, so I never held hope of finding mine, but I naively believed we could be happy, like the other pairs in our pack.

Ellie and Alaric were besotted with each other. I wanted that. Call me a romantic, but I need that connection with a mate.

As our relationship progressed, it was clear things were never going to improve. Dalton is blinded by his need to continue his family legacy, and I couldn’t care less about that. My father being a Beauford doesn’t mean shit to me.

I would rather have him here than his fucking family name, one that doesn’t count for shit. Not when there’s something different about you.

I stare at my reflection, trying to see something beneath the surface that suggests this. Cade is convinced I am part witch, as is Sawyer, but I’ve never used magic until I healed Cade. Why am I suddenly able to do small things like that?

I tilt my head, looking at the claiming mark. The bite in my skin is already starting to fade, but I hate it. I want it gone.

I reach inside myself, trying to find that spark of magic I hope exists within me. It’s like trying to catchsteam, and I can’t grab on to anything long enough to make a spark of magic as I did when I healed Cade.

I try again. I want Dalton removed from my mind, from my life. If we can’t find a witch willing to do this, I might be my only hope.

Nothing happens.

I reach again, and my head violently throbs. Gripping the edge of the basin, I try to breathe through the pain.

When it finally subsides, all I feel is annoyed.

What’s the point of supposedly being part witch if my magic is just as broken as my wolf side?

As I stare at myself, my vision suddenly wobbles. I blink, trying to clear the haziness. It doesn’t work, so I blink more rapidly.

My head snaps forward, and I’m in a vehicle, looking out the windshield. There are wolves in front of it, standing on the road, their teeth bared and their stances unfriendly. I grip the basin as the vision, memory—whatever it is—washes over me.

Then I hear her voice. “Hold on tight, baby.”

I try to grasp it, to hold on to whatever this is, but it slips through my fingers.

Pain slams through my head, and I drop to my knees, the tiles jarring my bones. Fisting my hands over the side of my head, I try to control the pain as it lances through me. I can hardly breathe and it pains me to even try. Her voice rings in my head, and I try to keep hold of it.

“Halle!” Someone pats my face as if trying to rouse me from a deep sleep. “Come back to me, little wolf.”

I shutter my eyes frantically, trying to clear my vision, and after a moment, Cade’s watery face comes into focus.

All I can hear is my breathing, ragged and heavy as I try to calm my racing heart. We’re on the bathroom floor, leaning against the tub. The cold floor seeps through my clothes, making my legs feel numb, but my skin is hot where Cade’s arms are wrapped around me.

“What—” I whimper as I try to pull out of his grip, but he doesn’t allow me to. He holds me like he’s made of steel.

“What happened?”

“I saw my mom again.”

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