Page 15 of Broken Rejected Mate

But I’m already moving toward him, catching him off guard and sweeping him off his feet, so he lands flat on his back. Miming a blade, I pretend to sink it right into the center of his chest, and he looks at me with wide eyes, as though I’ve really just killed him.

“Lot of power behind your hook,” I say, grinning at him. “But you have to learn to keep you guard up.”

“Can’t believe I trusted you,” he mutters, but he’s smiling as I pull him to his feet.

Dorian was right—it may be painful, but at least sparring with Aidan is helping me let out some of the roiling feelings inside me. No matter how hard I try, my mind keeps running through the loop—thinking about Sarina, and how much she looks like me.

Aidan swings at me, and I dodge this time, not letting him catch me across the head again. If he does, the fucker might just give me a concussion.

As we fight, my thoughts swing back over to Veva, with another man. Thoughts of her carrying that other man’s child. Watching that other man walk away, leaving her alone with a baby.

I want to get my hands on him, kill him.

Then I remind myself that, except for the fact that she wasn’t pregnant, I did the exact same thing. Basically pushing her out of my window, telling her to go, that the thing between us was over. That I wanted nothing to do with her.

That night, she came to me to tell me that she’d felt the mating bond between us. The last time we were together, I knew it. Felt it in my bones. And the moment she brought it up, held it in the air between us, I would have to face it.

And I couldn’t.

Aidan catches me in the stomach, and I grab his leg, whirling around and taking him to the mat. We roll, fighting for dominance, each trying to find the killing shot on the other, get him to tap out.

This is what I need. I need to exhaust myself, pour this energy out of me. Maybe if I fight hard enough, I can make it so I’m too tired to keep turning these thoughts over and over in my head.

Like where Veva is. What she’s doing right now. If she’s safe, wherever Kira and Dorian put her. Aidan gets his forearm against my throat and I grit my teeth, throwing him off of me and jumping back to my feet.

“Gods,” Aidan pants, chest heaving. “It’s fucking hard to pin you.”

“I’ve got a few years on you, man,” I say, sucking in my own air. “It’s impressive, how strong you’ve gotten since getting here.”

Instantly, his face darkens. “Still not strong enough to kill that fucker.”

That fuckeris Jerrod Blacklock—I know that. Once a week, Aidan spars with Dorian, who carries with him the strength of the alpha leader. If Aidan wants to be able to best Jerrod, he’ll need to be able to at least hold Dorian off.

Which he is nowhere near doing.

“You’re getting there,” I say, trying to be reassuring. Aidan already looks much stronger—the first time I saw him, out on the border between Grayhide and Ambersky territories, he was a scrawny thing. Said he’d been sick, and the deep bagsunder his eye, the wan gray complexion of his skin, said “sick” might not have been the most apt description.

I never asked about it. Maybe Dorian knows exactly what Aidan went through.

“I’d like to get there faster,” Aidan says, setting down his bottle resolutely and fixing his eyes on me. “You up for another go?”

I’m exhausted, my muscles burning and trembling slightly from fighting for this long. But when I reach into my mind, I’m still capable of thinking, so I take one last, long drink and set my bottle down, too.

“Always,” I say, stepping back onto the mat, holding my hands up, and urging him to attack. “Bring it on.”

Chapter 9 - Veva

The motel we’re staying in is just on the nice side of dingy, clean but worn down, the color fading from the wallpaper and the baseboard dinged from decades of cleaning carts and luggage running up against it.

It’s the nicest place Sarina has ever slept in her life.

“Mom!” she calls from the bathroom, her eyes wide as she pokes her head out. “The water just keeps coming!”

“Don’t waste it,” I warn, because I don’t want her to get used to the limitless water of indoor plumbing. Sooner rather than later, we’ll be going back to what we had before. A different kind of living, one that makes you appreciate your resources more.

I hear the sink turn off, and Sarina comes out, her face scrubbed pink, her hair piled on top of her head. Since she was little, she’s followed my lead on everything—even the way I do my hair for bed, my routine. Sometimes, I’m shocked by how smart she is, how capable kids are at learning things. It’s not like I ever sat her down and said she should follow a routine each night—she just saw me doing it, and so did it herself.

Sarina sits down in the middle of her big queen bed. I won’t, but I want to ask her to sleep in my bed tonight. I want to tuck my arms around her—it feels like the only way I’m going to be able to get any sleep.

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