Page 30 of Claiming His Rejected Mate

The chuckle that rumbles in my chest overrides the snarl of my wolf at the back of my mind.

She thinks me weak? She dares question my competence?

“You dare not underestimate me,” I say, my voice low and dangerous. “Get dressed.”

“You’re wasting your time. I’m not claimed by anyone and I will not let you sell me off like some bundle of meat.”

Hazel glares at me with a fury that would make lesser wolves cower. She doesn’t flinch, even though my wolf is pressing at the edges of my control, daring her to challenge me further.

Her words should ease the gnawing frustration in my chest, but they don’t. Instead, they fuel it, stoking the fire of my anger.

“Not claimed?” I scoff, taking a step closer. “Eldon’s men call you his Mate. Broadstone has seen you frolicking with him. He’s threatening war over you. And you’re telling me it’s all lies?”

She straightens, her chin tilting up as if daring me to challenge her. “Yes. It’s all lies. As if you expect better from a rival pack. But I wouldn’t expect you to believe me.” She rolls her eyes.

My wolf growls, his presence pressing against the edges of my control. She so fucking sexy it’s hard to not want to rip her clothes off her. I want to reveal the supple cleavage straining the plain T-shirt she’s wearing.

“Why should I believe you?” I ask, my voice low, dangerous. “You’ve done nothing to earn my trust.”

“And you’ve done nothing to deserve my honesty,” she spits.

There’s a soft knock on the door and an Omega soft voice requests to come in with her head poking through the crack I left. I nod, and she wheels a rack full of dresses in.

“Get dressed,” I say, nodding toward the dresses on the rack.

She scoffs and raises a perfectly arched brow. “You’re joking.”

I growl, taking a step closer. “You’ll wear a dress. You’ll present yourself to Eldon exactly how I tell you to. And you’ll do it without another word of protest.”

Her laugh is bitter, cutting through the tension in the room. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Parading me around like some prize while pretending you have everything under control.”

“Exactly what he called you. His prize. I’m glad you know your place,” I bite back.

She doesn’t respond. I watch as she disappears into the adjoining bathroom. The door slams shut, rattling in its frame.

My wolf growls, restless and agitated. Her scent lingers in the air. Wildflowers. Berries. Earth. Intoxication tinged with defiance.

I clench my fists, pacing the room. She’s a tool to use against Eldon. That’s what I tell myself, over and over, even as I imagine her sliding out of the soft cotton pants she has on. I imagine the fabric rolling over the smooth curve of her gorgeous ass, the slight jiggle as it makes its way down her gorgeous legs.

I don’t notice my growling until I hear the Omega whimper in the corner. The bathroom door creaks open. I turn, my breath catching despite myself.

The dress clings to her like a second skin, the deep green fabric highlighting the curve of her waist, the strength in her shoulders. Her long dark brown hair tumbles down her back, wild and untamed, and her stormy eyes meet mine with a challenge.

She looks like she’s stepped out of a dream—one I’ve been reaching for ever since she turned and walked away from me. Ever since I rejected her. And one I’ve been trying to forget ever since I learned of her recent engagement with Eldon.

Heat surges through me, unbidden and unwanted. My wolf growls again, his desire pressing against my control.

Claim her. Sink into her. Mark her. Take her.

No. My thoughts war with my wolf’s.

I shove the thought down, suppressing this weakness she triggers in me. But I haven’t had enough of her. I want to see how she turns these flimsy dresses into something surreal. I’m punishing myself withthis. But looking at her glaring daggers at me, her brows scrunched in a petulant resistance, I can’t help myself.

I step closer, the tension between us crackling like a live wire. Her scent, stronger than any perfume manufactured on this plane, her presence—Goddess, it’s all too much, too close. I hold back from touching her even though every fiber of my being wants to grab her face and close the distance between us.

“Another,” I say coldly, though the words feel like ash on my tongue.

The Omega rifles through the rack, her movements jerky, her anxiety palpable.

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