Understanding dawned with the force of a physical blow.
“No fucking way,” he whispered.
His wolf had chosen Brett as its mate. His pajarito—his beautiful, shy redhead who blushed at the slightest provocation—was his elegido.
“Fuck,” he repeated, this time with more feeling.
He leaned against his bike, legs suddenly unsteady. The night air felt too thin, insufficient for the breaths he was trying to take. His wolf had chosen a mate while trapped inside him—something that should have been impossible.
Diablo pulled out his phone and called Brett. His elegido.
Despite wishing Brett was his mate, Diablo’s life was a shitshow. How could he protect Brett when he couldn’t even shift? The hyenas were an ever-present threat, more dangerous than anyone could have imagined.
Still, Diablo wanted Brett close, wanted the male on the back of his bike and in his bed.
“Hello?”
Why did Brett sound so hesitant? “Everything okay, shorty?”
Two quick breaths. “Yeah.”
For a brief second Diablo wondered if Brett just didn’t want to be bothered, but his mate had seemed genuinely happy earlier.
That wasn’t something easy to fake.
“You wanna go for a ride?” Diablo wanted to see with his own eyes that his mate was okay.
And if your wolf tries to escape again while Brett is there?
Even though his claws had slid free, Diablo refused to give himself hope.
“Now?” Brett asked, but Diablo caught the hint of excitement in his voice.
Diablo grinned, wondering if his little fireball had ever done anything daring before.
You mean like talking to someone like you?
“Do you have to work tomorrow?” He crossed an arm over his chest, watching cars pass by him on the street. The night was hot enough for a ride, if his mate agreed.
“Where do you want to go?” Brett asked, clearly curious.
“A donde quieras ir, te seguiré.” Anywhere you want to go, I will follow.
“You’re supposed to be teaching me Spanish,” Brett reminded him, a little huff in his tone.
Diablo couldn’t seem to stop grinning whenever he talked with Brett on the phone. “Take a ride with me and we’ll start your lessons, guapo.”
“I…” Brett cleared his throat. “We can meet back at the parking lot,” he offered.
Which meant he didn’t want Diablo to know where he lived. Something was going on, and if he found out someone was abusing the small man, Diablo would unleash hell on them.
Brett was his. His mate. His to protect. His to raze the entire town over.
Diablo didn’t need his beasts to eliminate any threat against his little redhead. “I’m on my way there now.”
“See you in twenty.” Brett hung up.
* * * *