Page 40 of Rejecting his Mate

“They seem nice,” I say.

“Don’t believe everything you see.”

“Are they… different? Like you?”

Cade’s eyes are hard as they take me in. “We’re all different. You included.”

“I’m not trying to hide that fact,” I say. “Are you ever going to tell me what you are?”

“When I trust you, yes.”

I blow out a breath. I can’t blame him for that. Even though I feel as if I know him, we are strangers to each other. “At least you know what you are,” I grouse. “I have no clue what I am.”

“You healed me in the woods,” he says in a soft voice. “Healing… is a witch thing, Halle. Never met a wolf that could do it.”

I bring my brow together. “You think I’m a witch?”

He dips his head toward my mouth, getting into my space. “Not fully. You smell like a wolf. You move like one, too, even with the latency, but you healed me.” I flinch at the ‘L’ word. It makes me feel less than whole. Cade notices and lifts my chin with his finger. “Take that look off your face. You’re perfect from where I’m standing.”

“You’re not saying anything that isn’t true. I am latent. My wolf is… stuck.” I glance over at Sawyer, who is shoving his feet into a heavy pair of boots. “What did Sawyer mean when he said a witch can undo my mating bond with Dalton?”

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Cade seems troubled. “I’ve heard of it once. Our kind were created by magic,” he says. I nod. Every wolf knows the story of Revna and Torsten.

He was a Jarl’s son, a kind of lord at a time when men were making a living wreaking havoc across Europe as Vikings. Revna was a Seidr, some kind of seeress, and from what the story says, she was in love with Torsten. She gifted him and his father Leif an enchanted pelt. It gave the wearer the ability to change into a wolf, a powerful symbol to the Norse people.

Torsten was the first wolf shifter, the first to be part man, part beast. I’m not sure how it came to the point where he no longer needed the pelt to shift, but everyone knows the first part of the story by heart. The elder pack members often told us those stories.

“Since we were created using magic, it would make sense that a witch can undo the bindings between you and…him.” He snarls the last word, and I don’t miss the smirk Sawyer gives me. Is Cade jealous? Is Sawyer right?

“Where do we find a witch?” I ask, desperate to be unhooked from Dalton. If there’s no mating bond, he can go his way, and I can go mine. No murder necessary.

Sawyer snorts. “You don’t find a witch. They hate our kind. Did no one ever teach you that?”

I shake my head. “I’ve never met a witch. So why won’t they help us?”

“I don’t know. It’s just how it’s always been. There are only two ways to get a witch on our side—pay them or bribe them.”

“Or if they owe you a marker,” Wyatt says, pulling on a sweater. “It’s not an option.”

Sawyer comes around the side of the truck and drapes his arm around my shoulders, ignoring the way Cade snarls at him. “It means, Halle, that we need a plan that doesn’t involve asking those hags for anything. They’ll sell your soul to the highest bidder before you even realize it.”

Cade pulls his arm off my shoulder. “Take your damn hands off her.”

The possessiveness in his voice makes me shiver, and my pussy throbs in a delicious way that is completely wrong. It feels like electricity crackles between us as Cade keeps his eyes locked on mine. This is what I wanted Dalton to be like, but he couldn’t care less if I was breathing or not.

Sawyer smirks before stepping away, his hands held up. “I’m backing away! Shit, so tetchy,” he mutters with a smile. “Ignore my brother, Halle. He’s never liked to share his toys.”

Brother?They’re brothers?

I peer at them both a little more intensely. “Cade is your brother?” I ignore the part about being called his ‘toy’. I give my attention to Cade. “I didn’t know you have a brother.”

“Had. He’s about to become past tense,” Cade growls.

Sawyer waves the threat off as if he is used toreceiving them every day of the week, and gets into the truck.

The others follow suit and I grab Cade’s arm before he can open the door.

“Am I safe with you?” I ask, suddenly needing to know that I’m not leaving one bad situation for another.

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