Page 8 of The Wolf's Kidnapped Mate

I halted behind a huge magnolia. The girls were walking up pretty early by my watch—but we’d just walked out of a meeting. OrI’djust walked out of a meeting. Everyone else had probably filed out a few minutes after me, seeing as the drama hadn’t produced much to talk about.

Blake had probably saved the best for last, thinking it was a good idea.

Nope. It was a terrible idea. Hadn’t I been saying that all damn day? I didn’t understand why nobody wanted to listen to me. Kylie wasn’t my mate. Even if I wanted her to be my mate—which I definitely didn’t—she wouldn’t ever see me as attractive or appealing. She’d never showed signs of it growingup. Anyway, Liam would have stamped that out quicker than a flamenco dancer trying to stomp out a fire.

Their footsteps grew louder on the dirt path. One of them kicked a rock that skittered off into a flower bed. I kept my eyes on the prize, although of course Kylie was much more than a prize, with her aggravatingly positive outlook and sunny disposition. She was practically a galaxy of giant suns.

Her tan was like an autumn’s brown, and her reddish-auburn hair rested straight against either side of her face, stopping at her chin. Every time she turned her head, the bob moved with her. Short bangs framed her face, seeming to enhance the hazel-brown of her eyes. Trim brows appeared to be penciled in a darker shade than her hair, and her face was contoured expertly with makeup.

How she managed not to break a sweat through her foundation this late in the day, after jogging, was amazing to me. Kylie was talented like that. She could sport a hot smoky eye and still manage to spot the enemy through her sniper scope. Nothing really stopped her from getting her job done, and she looked good while doing it.

Not like I was checking her out or anything.

And who in the world was so upbeat all the time? Especially given her experience. I didn’t understand it. But then again, there were cases of people who left the black ops and turned into the most Zen people on the planet. Some of them even went on to take vows of silence for world peace.

That was all horseshit to me. I didn’t think silence did much of anything. Certainly not for the injustices of the world. And those were just too many to count at this point. Sure, we all did things to cope—I had my greenhouse and my sweetevergreen, Oscar—but I didn’t want my terrifying nightmares to turn me into some snake-oil peddling shmuck.

“He’s just…he’s so…” Kylie talked about me for what might have been the first time since I’d arrived. “I don’t know.”

Faye rubbed her friend’s shoulder. “Do you know him at all?”

“Not really.”

Even more lies. Great. I rubbed the back of my neck while avoiding a bumblebee. After sliding my burner phone into my back pocket, I scooted beside the bushes and smaller trees, keeping my distance while keeping the two women within sight.

Look alive.

But play dead.

Faye beamed. “Then it’s not much of a loss, right?”

Ugh, why did they have to be this way? If the rejection hurt, then they should say that. I honestly had expected Kylie to walk out of there in tears considering how soft she truly can be on the inside. There wasn’t enough Krav Maga in the world to hide the hurt she harbored in her delicate heart.

You know better, I told myself.You’ve seen what she’s seen.

But how could I know better when all she did was spew those disgusting positive mantras all the time? They weren’t even mantras. They were cultish phrases that made her seem like a robot. In my head, I didn’t mind the hurt or the fear. I processed it by feeling it, not ignoring it.

People like Kylie didn’t make sense to me. Good thing we weren’t actually real mates. I’d get tired of that crap real quick.

“He’s kind of handsome,” Faye added. “Pale, though.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes. Every woman wanted a tall, dark, and handsome guy without knowing whether or not he could protect her.

Kylie shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

My eyes couldn’t have rolled any harder.Gee, thanks.

Faye tapped her chin. “And the tattoos?”

“Who doesn’t have tattoos these days?”

As much as I despised her attitude, she had a nice way of defending me. Even after I’d rejected her. Maybe she wasn’t half bad.

Faye wrinkled her nose. “The hair…”

“It’s just white hair, Faye. What do you want? To marry him?”

Faye cackled.

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