The Pack Rule Number 1 No Mates

Chapter Two Hundred Seventy-Seven ANASTACIA

When Paul places a papaya-less Pina Colada on the table in front of me, he retakes his seat. He hasn't fixed himself a drink and I ponder why for only a moment before I take a healthy sip and close my eyes, moaning with pleasure. "Mmm," I murmur. That's really good."

When I meet his gaze, his eyes are heavy lidded and his lips are wet. The ridges of his muscled forearms are flexed tight and shifting under the light. He clears his throat, focusing on something beyond me when he says, "So tell me about the shadow hounds." "The first thing you need to know... is my Gran was a Mystic like me. She was super talented and wanted to teach me everything I would need to know about my gifts but-"I pause, taking a bite of the steak and flushing red when my stomach rumbles with furious hunger. "Im so sorry," I say feeling stupid. "I haven't had a real meal in-

"It's okay," Paul replies, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "It's cute."

"Starving is cute?" I asked with a wry smile.

"Not that part," he says somewhat seriously. "Your tummy's little grow! That's what is adorable.

in my stomach. "Uh huh." Are you sure you don't mean creepy? 1 take a few more bites of my food to subdue the chorus of gurgles erupting then I continue, "Like I said, Gran was a Mystic. My dad was never around. He abandoned my mother when Chelsea and I were very young. so that's when she decided to move us all with Gran. Gran knew right away what I was, even though for the first few years of my life. my mother denied there was anything different about me. My mother was born normal, and she was pretty resentful of me for a long time, but I loved her anyway. How could I not? She was my mom. However, she died only a year after we moved in with Gran..

"When I was growing up, Gran used to tell us stories about shifters. Shifters that were good. Bedtime stories about true love and mates, Stories that any child would have been glad to hear Valiant wolves and brave lions. Protective, devoted, bears and even possessive sharks. They were love storien.."

"Possessile sharks?" Paul asks, flinching "Your kidding? I didn't even know there were shark shifters."

I chuckle, watching him carefully. "Yeah, there are. According to Gran there are shifters of just about any kind.

His blue eyes are wide and guileless as he studies nie. "Right... but sharks? And how are stories about possessive mates good for bedtime?"

I laugh, "Not sure. But the way my Gran told it, they were romantic. Besides, from what I can gather, all sifters are possessive. Is that not

000.

He smirks. It's definitely true. But labeling the shark lone as possessive paints a pretty scary picture."

I guess it does. Never thought of it that way. "You're right. She only told me a couple about sharks, but in both cases the male shifters were pretty bloodthirsty when it came to the humun women they loved"

"Human women??? Paul snaps, shocked.

How does that even work? Imran what on earth?"

I giggle, taking another bite of my food and reveling in the way the stical practically melts against my tongue. The man certainly knows his beef. Whatever he added to the marinade is fre for my palate. "You'll and they don't need to live as sharks all the time. The same as you don't need to Ink as a wolf all the time. But one thing is for sure. They re always near the ocean. You might even have a few out here.

He appears thoughtful for a moment, then shrugs. "I don't know. As far as I'm aware, none of us have ever come across any

"Fair enough" I say, starting in on my mashed potatoes, which are light as a cloud and deliciously buttery. Anyway - it wasn't until

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Chapter Two Hundred Seventy-Seven

met Draco, that the started telling me stories about hounds."

"Draco?" Paul questions, his e

eyes going to the shaded windows almost automatically. "Is that the Alpha?"

""Yes," I answer with a nod. "Gran hated him."

Paul's eyes widen with interest. "Smart

smart woman. They're the most despicable type of shifter there is. As far as I know, anyway. Do you any idea what they do to their women?" have

Biting my lip, I meet his angry gaze. "Yes. I mean I didn't. Not when Let him. But the first time I allowed him to bring me home, my

Gran lost her shit."

"She knew what he was?"

Yes. She was talented that way. She could see things. So can I. She knew what he was just on sight of him. My sister can do that too, but she doesn't have any magic." "So your sister is still alive?"

"As far as I know. I haven't seen her in two years."

Paul appears stunned, but he keeps the focus of his questions on the matter at hand. "So your Gran tried to warn you against him and I'm assuming you didn't you listen to her."

"I thought he was different," I say with a shudder. "He had me convinced that he was. We dated for two and a half years and not once did ever see any sign of his pack. He said he didn't have one. That he didn't believe in the consumption of compatible mates. So I continued to see him, despite Gran telling me different horror stories about hounds every time I stepped in the door. Eventually, I gave myself to him and-" A loud growl rumbles from Paul's chest and I stop speaking.

"Excuse me a moment," Paul says, standing up. "I think I need a drink after all."

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes against the unwanted memory of it all. The last time I saw my Gran

FLASHBACK

"Please baby girl, you have to listen to me. He is not your average hound. Normal hounds are bad enough! Shadow hounds not only drain your life, they drain your magic! He'll keep you as a slave and slowly drain you until he's consumed all of your gifts and then he will kill you. It's what keeps them alive,"

"Enough, Gran! I don't want to hear any more of it! I'm leaving. I just came to say goodbye."

"lease angel, don't go. It's what he wants. To get you alone-"

"STOP IT! I won't

t listen to this

this shit! He loves

and I love him. He's proven it to me already."

Please!

tell me

haven't been with him! Please tell me he hasn't shared you with-"

"That's it! I'm out of here! Mom was right about you. You just want to control everyone in your life."

"He's not the one you think he is. There is another and he is out there waiting."

"Oh please! Enough with the fairytales. You don't care about what makes me happy. Not really."

"If I never see you again. Anastacia, just know that I love

you

mad I forgive you."

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Chapter Two Hundred Seventy Seven

Therra no mend to forgive me, Adraise for not sorry

END OF FLASHBACE

gathered in pry eyes by the time Pa

Is Draco the only man you've ever been with? Pad

ripting with energy and are beautifully tensed

I mod, staring at him quizzically, and my antwet jedy appears to make His eyes are brighter, One daytime bus, they are new alment fronted was show

Aim. To him. A man you don't

A man I dont belong to? What?

1

guess you could say... I belonged to him at the time:

"Not be spift the end of snarl, "No, you did not."

the time."

No, Anastacia. Not him. You were never his," he growls, bis

turken. Why does he lost

th what looks like p

"Okay, okay, fine, I was never his," I whisper, placatingly and he finally seems to relax. Studying him for a long moment what I see there is farmiliar in a way that cannot be real. It's almost as if should know him. Like he should know the the reason I can think of for something like that to be true.

Oh my God.

Visions, or flashes of memory suddenly assault knelt at her feet and begged her forgiveness.

It me from every angle. Of Gran alive and in her Irving room of her talking to

But what memories are these? They didn't happen.

"Oh my goodness," I say as I realize. "Oh wow."

"What?" Paul says, alarmed. "What is it?"

I stare at him, the beauty of him. The power in him. Gran's words from our visit surround me, making me lightheaded.

...someone has finally breached Draco's barrier over your heart. You are free now

"Oh my God," I say to myself, forgetting for a moment that Paul sits right next to me.

... true mate has set you free..."

I shake myself, turning to face Paul and seeing

im with

new eyes. "It's you," I whisper. "You're him."

"What?"

"A true mate has set you free... That's what my Gran said to me in my dream. She said... that I've found my true mate and... I think she was talking about you." Warmth and happiness floods my body and suddenly I don't care about

by of

the things I heard him say on the

phone. All I want is to have him hold

me close.

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Chapter Two Hundred Seventy-Seven

Me? Pad diffent, his eyes naftowing.

I nod happily, reaching or his face. "You're my true mate."

No, Paul hath and I an almost hear my beart shatter. "No I am not."

Chapter Two Hundred Seventy-Eight

PAUL

The way the purple practically drains from her gaze does something to me, sending a wave of alarm through my body. It slices right

through me. The violet of her orbset

appears to wilt, or... close nfl Like a flower in the winter preparing to hibernate. Or a Venice flytrap, once it has an insect in its grip. It dissipates into the black of her pupils with frightening clarity. The show of it is shocking and thrums through my veins cold as death.

That one statement I made, my denial of her, şeems to have done somellsing irreparable to her charming eyes. Even her coloring

pales, the natural flush of her skinet

disappearing completely and throat bobs as if she's working to capture her air. Hands that were

reaching for my face that were

just a moment ago jerk backward so quickly that I'm forced to grab the back of her chair to keep her from toppling backward.

But that's not the worst part.

The light overhead glistens off the moisture beneath her thick, willowy lashes and liquid fire burns behind my chest.

"Ouch," she chokes out, blinking rapidly. The sound of that one word sends a spike of longing through me.

Something inside churns with regret, begging

ing me to fix whatever thread I have severed.

"Anastacia," I whisper, struggling to keep my hands at my sides. I want to touch her so badly I can hardly stand it. I'm practically aching to lean in and capture her lips in my own, but... I don't.

"Ana," she corrects me, her voice quivering so slightly

htly that I'm forced to shake my head against it.

She looks so sad. So last. Fuck

*Why did you call me that? Why would you say that?"

She swallows thickly, tuming away. I must have been mistaken. I guess-1-1-"

"Just quit it," I interrupt. "Stop playing with me. Mates are sacred for wolves and pretending to be my mate is wrong"

"I'm sorry!" she shouts, slamming her eyes shut almost as if she doesnt want to look at me anymore. "I-I shouldn't have called you that. I- I was wrong. I mean... I must have been."

She's a witch, Paul. A charmer. And she's playing games with you. She knows about mates. She knows what buttons to push

This is not real.

But..

My phone chirps and for the moment 1 ignore it. Anastacia and I are sitting so close to one another, should be able to feel her heat, but I can't. Her body has gone cold and she's practically shivering.

"Where am 1 to sleep?" she asks as she resumes eating her meal. "I'm sure you want to head out early tomorrow."

"No."

"No?" she chortles, taking a hefty bite of her potatoes.

"Do you really think I'm just going to drive you a hundred or so miles away and set you free? Just so the hounds can find you again? You still haven't finished telling me how shadow hounds are different from pegular hounds."

She laughs humorlessly. "What Ho you care if they find me again?"

"I shouldn't," I snap. "But I do. So, you're not going anywhere until

yo heen dealt with."

I'll figure it out,"

"Well I don't need you to care about me. I've been taking care of myself just fine up III

Like hell if you will. I'm the one that is supposed to no. No I am not.

I'm not him. I'm not.

The fucked up part is that I wish it was true. Despite the messed up shit that I said to Rainier about witches, Anastacia is hands down the most beautiful creature I've ever come across and to have her as my made wouldn't be any kind of hardship. It would be... perfect. But how would I ever know it was real?

You could mark her. Duh. Then you would know.

With a hefty sigh, I do my best to explain. "All I'm saying is that you don't have to charm me into keeping you safe. You don't have to pose as my mate to get me to-"

"I said stop it!" she shrieks, the sound echoing through the room and causing the light bulbs above us to flare as bright as the sun before burning out completely.

My eyes shoot upward, then around. The only light available to us now comes from the open-concept

kitchen. "What the fuck?"

"Oh!" she gasps, obviously just as shocked as I am.

"Fucking witchcraft," I complain, shaking my head.

She trembles next to me and when I study her grip on her fork I see that her hand is shaking. Damn it. She's either a damn fine actress or I've really upset her feelings.

Watching as she finishes every single bite of her dinner is like torture. Her plump lips drag across the fork with every bite, opening and closing of her mouth painting pictures for me of what it might feel like to have it close around my shaft.

"It's probably best if we stick together through the night," I say before I can stop myself.

She laughs, then swallows the rest of her piña colada in one gulp. "So, it's the couch for me then?" she asks, spinning in her seat until ber knees press into my outer thigh.

Fuck.

My eyes are drawn downward, toward the apex of her thighs and my chest rumbles before I can stop it. "Do you really want to be so close to the front and back doors? With nothing but bricks and wood between you and those hounds? Wouldn't you feel safer with a wo!! separating you from whatever fate they have planned?"

Her chin lifts haughtily. "Would I be safer? Or would I wake up to find myself tied to a stake in the yard?"

That image brings a suggestive smile to my lips and my eyes saunter over her body from her head to her toes. My dick pulses in my pants and I say, "You might awaken tied up to a stake, but not in the yard."

Her color comes flaming back and she inhales sharply, her eyes narrowing on me as she crosses her

beneath her chest. Her nipple

sharpen to points, poking like diamonds against the thin fabric of my shirt that shes wearing, and I growl Fucking hell, I forgot she wearing a bra

My madli sealers fun night shed just as I decide to day face it,

anarls and greeds sound from out in the sends annend the horse. I loved to my hot, my the direction of the front door,

"What?" the whispers, oliviously not alde fra hear an mall as I can. "Wha

A four possessive honed riots thangd

"Go upstairs," I tell her, "Lock yourself in my room and don't come i

nummands, standing "Why?" she whines, grabbing my forearm and lighting a fuse with her touch. "Don't pre into her front is pressing into mine. Her nipples are still hard as pearls and Tran feel them so well that the need to have them in think abad for moment. My dick spikes, thrinting upward

annow and pointing pragir for nec

I smile down at her, peeking into the open neck of my shirt just long mor to inspire a groan of envy at the cotton des wean

The strangest soothing glow begins to billow in my chest, and its difficult, but I pull away from her hakking myself of her mother and stepping toward the hall. "Do as I say, Anastacia. It'll be alright."

"No! I don't want you to go out there! The shadow bounds-they don't just feed on flesh. They led on mage. Ther normal hounds.

My head jerks her way. "They feed on magic? What?"

She shudders, her gaze lowering as if ashamed. "My Gran once told me that Draco meant to keep me at a slave and drain my mage sowie

I want og to the day the it's what keeps Draco young I didn't believe her because he hid his true self from me for two long year

"When did she die?" I ask warily.

"One week ago. The same

same day I started running"

"Why did you start running?" I ask, although I think I already know.

She gazes at me as if she's ashamed. "Because he introduced me to his pack. The pack he claimed didn't