The She-Wolf’s Mate (Book 2 She-Wolf Series)

Samantha

Odd, I thought.

The security cameras were on the fritz, so I wasn’t able to pull up the feed. Jonathan had wanted to have them replaced, but I hadn’t felt there was a major need now that most other werewolves assumed I was under the protection of their king.

I crept towards the doorway on high alert. Everyone who should be here at this hour was accounted for or would have called before arriving. I caught a faint scent that was decidedly out of place and froze in my tracks.

It couldn’t be.

He wouldn’t be here after all this time of no contact. My mind was playing tricks on me, but as I continued to approach the door I saw a large shadow through the stained glass. My hand shook as I turned the knob and it slowly swung open.

Standing before me was a wolf the size of a horse. I yelped and jumped back at the startling sight. Ayisha pounded at the forefront of my mind, but before I made the shift, I looked in the large canine’s eyes. Pain and torment stared back at me.

‘Rankor’, Ayisha spoke in my mind.

Ivar’s wolf. Ivar was at my door.

The air left my lungs at the realization, and I fought to keep my composure. I steeled myself as I took in the figure before me.

Although he stood tall and strong staring down at me, he looked terrible. His cream-colored fur was dirty and I noticed matts in several spots. His head drooped and he breathed heavily without moving.

Slowly, I reached a hand towards his muzzle and he leaned into it gently. I closed my eyes, letting myself indulge in the feeling of his touch.

“Rankor,” I breathed and he gently licked my palm. “I need to talk to Ivar.”

He shook his head.

“Are you hurt?” I asked.

Again, he shook his head.

“Why are you here?”

Instead of answering, he lumbered across the porch to where I had a rocking chair set up and laid down, his head resting on the seat. It was clear he wanted company.

I hesitated before telling him, “Okay. Hang on a minute.”

I turned back into the house and grabbed my cell phone. On a whim, I also grabbed a hair brush from the bathroom before heading back.

I dialed my assistant, Jessica’s, desk number.

“Good morning, Alpha Paulson,” she chimed.

“Hey, Jess,” I returned her greeting. “Something came up and I’m not going to be in today. Can you make an excuse for me if anyone asks?”

“Umm, sure,” she agreed. “Is everything okay? You sound a little stressed.”

“Yes, everything’s okay,” I said quickly. “I just… need a day.”

“Okay, Alpha,” she said, not quite sounding like she believed me. “If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate.”

“Thanks, Jess,” I told her and hung up.

I stood looking down at the massive wolf curled around my favorite chair. While still powerful, I could tell he was tired. Werewolves rarely let their wolves appear so disheveled. Since Rankor refused to let me talk to Ivar, I assumed Ivar either didn’t want to shift or Rankor wouldn’t let him have control. I wasn’t sure which scenario was worse.

I hesitantly walked to sit in the chair Rankor laid near and felt him relax as I made myself comfortable.

“You look like shit you know,” I told him and he sighed heavily in response. “We should at least get you cleaned up.”

I held up the brush and Rankor gently laid his head in my lap while I started working through his fur. I slowly untangled knots and debris, taking note of various minor injuries. It didn’t seem like he had been in any sort of fight, but it was clear he had been through something to end up in this state.

I reached some matted fur behind his ears that I wasn’t able to work out, so I stood to grab a pair of scissors. Rankor seemed reluctant to let me go, but eventually sighed and relented. When I returned, he again rested his heavy head in my lap. His cold nose pressed against my stomach, and I could feel his warm breath through the fabric of my sweater. My chest hurt with longing at the contact.

Eventually, I finished brushing and sat back wondering what I would do now. I longed to run my fingers through his coat, but I knew I would be opening up to more hurt if I let myself want this man too much. Once he shifted back, I was sure he would leave.

I noticed an injury on his left forepaw and reached down to lift it. Rankor let out a low growl, startling me

“None of that,” I chided. “I need to take a look.”

After a moment, he lifted his paw for me to see. It was worse than I had thought. The entire pad was raw.

What could have done this to him?

I inspected each paw further and found all four to be in rough shape, although the back two were far worse.

“Rankor, what happened?” I asked. “Why aren’t you healing?”

He let out a low whine and dropped his head into my lap once again.

“Okay. It’s okay,” I said, patting his head. “I need to get something to clean these.”

He let out another whine, but lifted his head so that I could stand. I hurried inside to grab a bowl of warm water, some towels and an antiseptic. If he wasn’t healing, I worried he was at risk for infection.

There was no way to tell how long he had been like this. I needed to get in touch with someone close to him, but I had no idea how without raising suspicion. It wasn’t like he had a cellphone with him that I could search the contacts of either.

When I made my way back to his resting spot, I knelt next to him, reaching for his foot. He surprised me with a soft lick to my cheek. Instinct told me to resist. Instead, I cupped his furry jowls and leaned my face against his.

We stayed like that for a moment, breathing each other in. A voice in the back of my mind warned me I was treading in dangerous waters, but my heart longed for the what if.

What if he loves me this time.

‘He does love you,’ Ayisha’s voice filled my mind.

I sighed but didn’t respond. It was an argument we had many times previously, and I didn’t have it in me to rehash it today. Instead, I pulled away from Rankor and got to work.

First, I cleaned the debris from each foot. Then I soaked them before applying the antiseptic. Rankor yelped on several occasions, but he let me work without further protest.

Once I was done, I could see the weariness return to his eyes. I retook my seat in the chair and he quickly nuzzled his head back in my lap. I sat with him, quietly stroking his head, lost in thought. Eventually, I felt his breathing deepen and his body relax.

I watched, mesmerized, as he slowly shifted back to his human form. In his sleep, Rankor must have lost hold of his control over Ivar. I expected the man to awaken once shifted. Instead, his body slumped and he wrapped an arm wrapped around my legs. I stiffened but relished his touch.

He looked even worse than Rankor. While Rankor’s fur hid many of the minor cuts and bruises, Ivar’s skin showed each one. Still, he failed to heal as I would expect of such a powerful werewolf. His strong jaw was set firmly in a frown. I slowly trailed my hand over his features, stroking his hair and running my fingers down his neck and shoulders. His face relaxed slightly at my touch, and my heart ached, once again.

What if…

I sat feeling his smooth skin for what felt like hours before I realized it was probably best I get him inside. If anyone were to show up unexpectedly, they would find the naked king injured and sprawled over my porch. It would be difficult to explain away.

“Ivar,” I said, gently shaking his shoulder, but he didn’t even flinch.

I tried a few more times before I gave up, and decided I would need to get him inside while he was unconscious. I looped my shoulder under his arm and hoisted him. Even with my increased werewolf strength, I felt my knees buckling under his solid weight. Despite this, I was able to slowly drag him to the couch and cover his body with a blanket.

I stared down at his sleeping form. Although his cheeks were gaunt and bags hung under his eyes, he still had the strong features of a warrior of old. His hair had grown a little longer on the top, but he kept the sides shaved close. I imagined his icy blue eyes were as cold as ever when he was awake. The thought somewhat brought me back to the present.

The quietness of the massive living room felt stifling as the reality of the situation sank in. I needed to prepare myself for when Ivar woke up, and once again, walked out of my life. The thought brought a weight down on my shoulders, but I forced myself to accept it.

I cleaned up all the supplies on the porch and tidied the house to keep busy. Soon enough, I knew Luke would be home. I needed to make sure everything was as it had been, so I could avoid having to reveal the activities of my day. My parents had left the evening before for a weekend getaway, so I wouldn’t have to worry about them stopping in. I felt it would be easier to move on from Ivar’s visit if I could just pretend it never happened.

I texted Michael to check in and he assured me everything was taken care of today and for the weekend. He was probably one of the few people I would eventually talk to about what was going on, but for now I avoided his questions.

Over the last year, I had leaned hard into his and Cassie’s support. After all, they knew what I was going through. They didn’t try to discount the strength of the incomplete mating bond between Ivar and I. It was hard to describe to most people my heartbreak over a person I had barely interacted with. Even supernatural beings were skeptical of fated mates.

A day off was rare for me, so I decided to take the time to rest. I made a mug of tea and settled onto my favorite armchair with a book. I snuggled into the cushions and pulled my knees protectively up to my chest.

Eventually the behemoth of a man on my couch would wake up - I hoped - and then I would have to return to reality. For now, I chose to enjoy the sound of his easy breathing as I flipped through a love story from the pack house library.

It was late in the morning when I heard stirring from the couch next to me. I looked up to see Ivar slowly open his eyes and stare at the ceiling. I watched without speaking as he took in his surroundings. His gaze eventually landed on me. Our stares locked and his expression became unreadable.

“Hi,” I whispered.

He sighed, once again staring at the ceiling.

“Hi,” he muttered.

Quiet washed over us, the only sound was our breathing and hearts beating.

“What happened?” I finally broke the silence.

His jaw became tense, and I saw the muscles in his shoulders bunch.

I thought at first he wouldn’t answer but eventually he said, “I lost control. Rankor wouldn’t give it back. He ran here.”

I was taken aback.

“He ran here? From where?” I asked.

He didn’t answer, but closed his eyes looking less than pleased.

“From Canada?” I questioned further and he nodded slightly. “How long did that take?”

“A few days,” he muttered.

I was floored.

Ivar had lost control over his wolf for multiple days. Quick outbursts were common for some wolves, but losing control for an extended period was extremely rare. Especially for a werewolf as powerful as Ivar. Generally once the wolf calmed down, the human side was able to rein them in. Rankor must have been seriously upset with Ivar, but I didn’t understand why he had brought them here.

“How?” I asked.

“What do you care?” He asked, his disdain evident.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You seem to be doing just fine,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?” I demanded.

“Has the bond not affected you at all?” He spat. “How are you just moving on with life?”

“I am not the one who left,” I said, quietly.

“I asked you to come with me,” he accused.

“I told you why I couldn’t,” I countered.

He shook his head in disgust.

“Well, how did you do it?” he asked. I stared back at him, confused. “Clearly you blocked the bond somehow.”

My chest hurt from the venom in his words. He looked at me with such obvious hatred that my hopes of a different outcome all but vanished.

How could he not see how this was affecting me? How could he not see the pain this was causing me?

“How could you think that?” I whispered.

He was quiet for a breath before answering.

“I live every day, not able to think of anything but you. Not able to get your voice out of my head, the feel of your skin off of my hands, the taste of your kiss out of my mouth. The pain of your absence is unbearable, Samantha. And here you sit, calm as can be. Your life is moving on as if I don’t even exist, so I want to know how you did it.”

Said under different circumstances, his words may have been endearing, even romantic. However, he looked at me like I was gum stuck on his shoe. He didn’t want to feel these things for me.

“Ivar,” I said, slowly. “I haven’t blocked our bond. I live with the heartbreak of you leaving everyday.”

He studied my face for a long moment then. I assumed he was debating whether I was telling the truth.

Eventually he asked, “Then how do you live with it? How did you move on?”

“Well I don’t think I had much of a choice,” I shrugged. “You left and I have responsibilities.”

“I have responsibilities,” he argued. “That’s not enough.”

I finally grasped what he was saying and understood his confusion.

“I guess I didn’t give myself a choice,” I explined. “My husband died six years ago. He was the love of my life and a piece of me died that day with him. After his passing, I was a shell of the person I had been. It wasn’t until I saw what my grief was doing to my son that I realized I had to find a way to live. I vowed never to put Luke through that again.

“So whatever pain I’m feeling over your rejection, it doesn’t mean I can wallow. I have to keep going for my family and for my pack. I have to put them first.”

I didn’t often talk about what it was like after Travis died. If it hadn’t been for my parents, Luke wouldn’t have had anyone to lean on after the loss of his father. When I realized that he felt like he was also losing his mother, I pulled myself back from the edge and made sure he always knew he could rely on me.

He was my strength then and now.