Page 40 of Sold Bullied Mate

Later, when he’s sated and fast asleep, I stare out the window. Ten years ago, I would have cowered, been too afraid to say anything. I would have stayed in this place of not knowing forever, until Dorian did something to clear things up.

But not now.

Tomorrow, while we’re eating breakfast, I’m going to ask him.

I’m going ask him if this is what he wants, and tell him exactly what I need from him to make it work for me.

A public acknowledgment of our relationship—if not a formal marriage. Everyone in the pack to know that I am their luna. For Dorian to stand in front of everyone—like he did so many years ago—and tell them that rejecting me was a mistake.

Chapter 25 - Dorian

I always know when I’m dreaming.

In my dreams, Gramps is still alive, and right now, he’s sitting across from me at the table, his head tilted, his eyes serious and fixed. This dream comes to me a lot, a memory that plays out in picture-perfect detail.

“What do you mean …right?” he asks.

Up to this point, Gramps has received every question of mine with grace and understanding. His philosophy has been that there are no stupid questions, and if he’s going to train me to the be the best alpha leader I can be for this pack, I’ll need to feel comfortable asking him even the most delicate questions.

I feel my teen self clear his throat, hands gripping the edge of the table, thinking about Kira Argent. Who came into the classroom reeking of her own scent.

The only reason I’d been able to control myself was because of the meditation I’d done with Gramps. Discipline was my middle name. But I’d still done what I could to get her sent home from school—my mind swam with her.

“It was more … than the heat,” I remember saying, eyes on the table. “Something else. Like—I don’t know how to explain it. She felt … right to me.”

Gramps is quiet for a long time, and I remember this moment, the discomfort, the slow realization that I should have kept this information to myself.

“No,” the dream version of him says, and I snap my head up to look at him, wide-eyed. “No,” he says again. “That girl is not a good fit for you. Doesn’t exactly look the part of luna, doesshe? Your mate will be someone capable. The luna of the pack nurtures, Dorian. I’m certain it won’t be an Argent.”

“So what is this feeling?” my dream self asks. I already know the answer.

Gramps shrugged, “We’ll work on your intuition, son. That feeling might not be anything more than good, old-fashioned lust.”

The dream fizzles out, something interrupting it, but I know what happened after that.

I’d laughed and gagged, telling him not to say stuff like that, and he’d chuckled. Said it was time to get to my training, that the next time I thought I’d found my mate, to give him some warning first.

He played it off, made it seem like I’d have any control over who it ended up being. But even back then, even trusting him as much as I did, I knew that he was wrong.

That feeling deep in my gut meant that Kira was my mate, no matter what Gramps said, or how I denied it to myself. And it would only get worse, so I’d only get more vicious with her, hating that my body wanted her the way it did.

With the dream gone, I roll over, wrap my arm around Kira, and pull her into me, sucking in a deep breath of her scent, trying to get myself to fall asleep again, forget the weird memory-dream.

At first, I assume the vibration is coming from somewhere deep inside of me, a sort of universal understanding of my new life, and how everything is falling into place exactly the way I want.

Kira is here with me, and she hasn’t left my bed since that first night she showed up at my door. This is what I want—thislife with her—and I know I need to tell her that officially. But I was so sucked into her heat, unable to think about anything but getting her body against mine.

It’s finally ebbed, her scent cooling, now not filling the house and pooling in the corners, but hovering around her like an aura, the way it’s usually meant to.

I can tell from the frenetic energy about her that now that her heat is done, she’s looking for something to do. She’s been baking so much lately that I’ve started taking it with me, setting it out for others to take at the pack center.

It’s time Kira was re-introduced into the pack. Accepted as the luna. But I’m still trying to figure out the best way to do that, to announce to everyone that I’m claiming her. To give her the formal responsibilities of the luna—caring for the people in this pack.

As a natural cook and nurturer, it’s obvious she’s perfect for the job.

Another round of incessant vibrating pulls me from my half-hazy, half-asleep thoughts, and I realize it’s not coming from me.

The sound, the vibrations, are coming from the bedside table, where my phone is lit up. I blink a few times, raise my head from the pillow, and feel Kira adjust around me, her arms snaking in around my waist.

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