by E. M. Moore
His rebuff will mark the lowest point of my life ten times over. A hundred times over.
I am nothing without him.
Ms. Ebon arches a brow. “You were saying?”
2
Have you ever wanted to hit an authority figure? I have. Many, many times.
I stuff that urge—along with the growing grief—back into a small ball. My wolf bares her teeth, growling as if Jonah rejecting us is all my fault. I breathe out in a rasp once I’ve forced her to retreat, and when I glance up, Ms. Ebon holds a glass of water in front of my face. Grasping it, I give her a small “thank you.”
She takes her seat across from me again, staring more curiously. When I meet her gaze with my own, she pulls a file into her lap and starts flipping through its contents. I instantly straighten, peering over, trying to catch a glimpse. It must be about me. What else could my advisor be doing during our first meeting? When I spot the quarter moon in the center of a few of the papers, it dawns on me that it must be Pack Council letterhead. That, right there, is communication about me from my own pack.
I take another drink, gulping down half the glass before placing the cup on the side table. I wish I’d had more time with Mom and Dad before I left. We were too shocked for proper goodbyes. Mom didn’t even start crying until I was forced in the back of the Pack car with no reassurance of when I would return.
Actually, that’s a fantastic question. I clear my throat and peer at Ms. Ebon. “How long do I have to stay here for?”
She glances over the file. “Until you’re reformed.”
“That sounds vague. When will that be?”
“When you move through your appropriate classes and your mate”—she checks the paperwork again—“decides that he’ll accept you.”
I scoff. I don’t mean to. It just comes out. Why the hell would I care if he wanted to accept me? What about what I want? Maybe I don’t want to accept him.
“If you fail to do so, you’ll be cast out of Lunar Pack, the other packs will shun you, and you will live Feral.”
Oh right. Fuck. Sometimes I’m too stubborn for my own good. I’ll unpack my feelings about him later. This is much more serious.
My wolf barely reacts, so either I’ve majorly pissed her off or she’s not listening anymore. While she pouts, real fear slices through me. If Greystone Academy was the cautionary tale of wolf society, Feral was the scary story told around campfires. No one who went Feral ever lived to talk about it.
Ms. Ebon still studies me, so I tap my fingers against the arm of the chair and nod toward the paperwork. “Is that about me?”
She flips the folder closed and offers me the entire file. “It is. It’s communication from both the Lunar Pack Council and Jonah Livestrong.”
My stare immediately tracks to her, questioning as she waits for me to take the folder. It doesn’t seem likely that she would let me read what everyone has to say about me. Unless I’m missing something…
She shakes the manila folder. “Go ahead. I don’t believe in keeping things from my students. You have a fight in front of you, young one.”
I take the file from her, spying my name in elegant handwriting on the tab. My stomach squeezes. I try to stifle my nerves, but when I open the folder on my lap, my hand quivers. I have no doubt Ms. Ebon sees my reaction. She’s been watching me like a hawk since I got here, and I’m suddenly well aware that she’s most likely assessing me at this very moment. Maybe her opinion matters in this whole scheme of things—in my “reform.”
I sit up straighter as I scan the first document. Mate Rejection Slip is typed on the top. I almost shut the fucking file right there. Mate Rejection Slip. Taking those words in makes me nauseous. Why would anyone reject their mate? Their true love? Isn’t doing so like a huge slap in the face of our pack dynamics?
When you think about it, it doesn’t make sense that I’m the one in here and he’s out there. A growl crawls up my throat. It sounds like my wolf and I can find something to agree on. We might—well, she might crave him on some sort of instinctual level, but that doesn’t mean we have to like him right now.
He’s the reason we’re here, and I’m not sure I can get over that.
If only fate had skipped me. I would’ve been happy as an unmated wolf. Fuck all this love and politics shit.
“Why don’t you go ahead and read why your mate rejected you. It’s in the big box at the bottom.” My gaze tracks down the page. Curiosity brims at the surface, but I know anything he says is going to be the biggest bunch of bullshit. He doesn’t like me because no one likes me. Because I’m different. Because they got it in their heads when we were pups that I wasn’t like them. “Aloud, please,” she instructs.
I snap my jaw shut. Apparently she wants my humiliation to be spoken instead of just internalized. I’d thought she was pretty cool, but I’m rescinding that assessment.
I clear my throat. “Kinsey Walker has never tried to become part of Lunar Pack. Due to my future position under the alpha, I don’t believe she and I will be the perfect mating pair.” My jaw practically dislodges. “I’ve never tried to become part of Lunar Pack?” I screech and then laugh. “He’s kidding, right?”
She leans back, crossing her legs at the ankles. She looks so regal sitting there with her long, black hair against the purple chair that I calm my tone a bit as she narrows her eyes. “I don’t imagine he is. He lodged the complaint with the Council, and he’s aware what that would have done to him as well.”
I glare at her. I really want to tell her that Jonah can go fuck himself. He’s the one who brought this on both of us. In fact, I know a way he could’ve avoided this all together.
A trickle of unease rolls through me at that. You can’t force mated pairs. It’s the ultimate F-U to the universe. Hence the reason for Greystone Academy’s existence.
What I don’t understand is why it’s always me that has to suffer.
“Why don’t you tell me about Jonah’s position in the pack?”
I blink down at the summary box. He’s literally only written those two lines as if he wanted to give me nothing to go on. “Is it in here somewhere?”
“It is. I’d like to hear it in your own words, though.”
I smile smugly. If I never tried to join the pack, how would I know anything about them? Living amongst the wolves who hated and feared me gave me a lot of time to watch, listen, and learn. “His family is third from the alpha. They’ve taken over alpha security, sometimes whole pack security and Council security, too.”
My advisor presses her lips together, frowning. “A political position.”
I roll my eyes. “Very.”
“I understand his concern, then.”
The bite of her words puts me back in my place. I keep forgetting where I am and what I’m supposed to be doing. Despite everything riding on this, I can’t find a reason to fight for my fated pairing. I don’t know how anyone who gets stuck here does.
Feral, my wolf reminds me.
Fuck. That’s right. I shiver. Living solo means no chance of survival. Lone wolves aren’t equipped to sustain themselves. We persevere in packs. The shifter race has a long history—and a dwindling population—that proves this very thing. The solution to our problem? Fated mates. It’s the only coupling that will breed healthy wolves. They’re so important to our society that we do anything to protect them.
“No comment?” Ms. Ebon probes.
I eye her, still unable to figure her out. Is she on my side? Or theirs?
Hell, who am I kidding? I’ve never had anyone on my side.
Time to play the part like I’ve been attempting my whole life. “Yes, I can see that,” I tell her. “His mate will have to be involved in alpha and pack business.”
“Kind of hard to do that with a wolf who hasn’t tried to be a part of the pack. The alpha’s family has to trust you.”
I stifle the eyeroll that threatens, but I don’t quite curtail my tongue. “Why couldn’t Jonah have mated with someone who
they could trust, then?”
She tilts her head to the side. “You don’t want a mate?”
I backtrack quickly. “No. No, I do,” I lie. Well, it’s not totally a lie. I never wanted a pairing from Lunar Pack. Give me one from any of the other seven packs, and I would have been happy. I think.
She doesn’t seem as if she believes me, and that’s a problem. Saying I don’t want a mate is like saying I deserve to be here, among other things. Like fucked-up, living feral things.
I clear my throat. “I was just wondering aloud that if fated pairings are essential to pack life, how come fate didn’t pick someone who would’ve been a perfect match for Jonah? Why pick me when he was going to reject me?”
Ms. Ebon’s brow furrows. She regards me for a long while before answering. “Your question is like asking why the moon dictates the tides. It just is.”
Will I get smited if I think fate was wrong in this case? Because…hello, the proof is in the Mate Rejection Slip.
My wolf yips at me. Looks like there’s one being in this body that doesn’t think the universe played the wrong hand. Even so, the advisor’s reasoning sounds like one of those “there, there” shoulder-rubbing scenarios, as if she’s trying to talk down to me while also not having the real answer herself.
Or maybe I’m really not cut out for pack dynamics. My whole life I’ve been watching from the perimeter. I’m not sure if I was born that way or circumstances dictated that I put up a barrier between me and my pack, but from my position, I’ve been an outsider since I was too little to comprehend what the word meant.
“Why don’t you turn to the Lunar Pack Council form?”
“The Council?” I hesitate, losing some of my nerve.
“Yes, every mate pairing gets a write-up. Most of the time, their forms are blank, but in your case, Kinsey, they have concerns about the pairing as well.”
I tamp down a growl that threatens to burst free. I’ve never met anyone on the Pack Council, but I already know what this is going to be about. And if it is—
My stomach clenches.
Was everyone else right? All those times I fought against the lie, what if it was true?
I flip to the next page. The Lunar Pack quarter moon rests in the top center. This form is much like the one Jonah filled out, except for the letterhead, distinguishing the importance.
“Out loud,” Ms. Ebon demands again.
I push my shoulders back and trudge on. I won’t let anyone see me weak. When I scan the page for the box, it holds less information than Jonah’s. The single statement says everything, though.
“Concerns about Miss Walker’s lineage.”
My wolf scratches to come out. This is the one thing she and I have always agreed on. A buzz starts at the surface of my skin. It turns into a prickling, as if I’m being tattooed over every inch all at once. I breathe through my nose, trying to calm myself as fur ripples down my arms and my back arches against the chair.
Ms. Ebon’s authoritative voice rings out. “Calm yourself, pup.”
The thing is, since my first shift was mere hours ago, it’s hard for me to control her. I stand, the contents of the file spilling onto the floor, and my advisor gets to her feet with me, reaching out a steady hand.
I’m too far gone, though. I turn, running toward her office door and whipping it open so I don’t wreck her room. I’m sure I’ll already be written up if I shift within the very first hour of being here, but the punishment will probably be worse if I also destroy academy property in the process.
My ragged breaths deepen as I step beyond the threshold. I no longer hear voices in the halls, which is perfect because I don’t need to look like a freak in front of my new wolfpeers.
My back arches again, bones cracking in place. When we were told transforming into our wolf hurt, they weren’t fucking kidding. I yell, my human voice giving way to a long howl as claws slice through my fingertips. My body throws itself on all fours, and for a split second, I’m still fully human before my wolf takes over.
She shakes her head, copper fur billowing like a halo around her neck. Ms. Ebon yells, but my wolf is entranced by the most familiar scent filling her nostrils. Her head perks, ears driving up and forward. It’s as if she’s been acquainted with this aroma her whole life, could roll and play in it—
She takes off, claws digging into the slippery floor, skidding before regaining her balance. Her focus homes in on the figure rounding the corner ahead.
Mate.
Jonah’s deep brown eyes widen as she careens toward him. Her keen wolf vision glimpses the emerald greens sparking through his irises. She sniffs the air. Instead of the beautiful scent she chased after, potent fear fills the air. She put the brakes on and careens across the floor, scrambling to stop her momentum.
Recognition flashes in Jonah’s eyes and disappointment and anger teem to the surface, muddying his beautiful features. The look on his face is like getting rejected all over again.
My wolf throws her head back and howls her pain while trying to recover her balance. The hulking, disapproving figure grabs her by the nape as she slides toward him. The brief pleasure of being touched by her fated match is squashed when he spins her to her back and places a huge forearm over her throat, pinning her to the floor.
Gazes locked, her copper paws move to his shoulder, but he leans forward, cutting off her breath. She whines, the sound emanating from deep inside. From the point of all my hurt and pain. From the place where I piled every rejection, big or small. It comes alive and sours the air between us.
“Know your place,” he growls.
3
Jonah’s features soften for a fraction of a second, and he eases the pressure. Even in my wolf form, he’s stronger—bleeding authority and strength. My wolf tangles her paws around his arm as if she’s giving him a giant hug, then licks his exposed bicep.
Instead of responding in kind, Jonah bares his teeth and growls. “Shift.”
His commanding words rip me back into reality. My pained wolf retreats in spectacularly fast fashion, once again rejected by the person who is supposed to love her unconditionally.
My back arches, bones re-breaking before I’ve had the chance to forget about the last shift pain. Skin and limbs take over until Jonah hovers over my human form. “Back the fuck off,” I pant, pushing at the arm that’s over my throat.
He backs away, moving to a standing position and glaring down at me with cold, brown eyes. With my human vision, I don’t notice the emerald in his irises as much. All I see is hatred and disappointment.
I get to my feet, only realizing then that I’m naked, a trail of tattered clothes in my wake. “For fuck’s sake,” he mutters, yanking his shirt off and offering it to me. He avoids my stare while I stand with hands on my hips, not backing down. “Take it, Kinsey. Christ.”
With a huff, I tug on his shirt. It falls to my thighs, dwarfing me. Cocooned in my mate’s smell, I feel at home, and I have to fight the smile that threatens to betray my inner emotions. My wolf, on the other hand, nuzzles against my chest as if she’s trying to cuddle the shirt.
That’s when I break. Surely him showing up at Greystone Academy is cruel and unusual punishment. “What are you doing here?”
Jonah’s gaze sharpens. Wolf yellow irises rise to the surface before he controls himself. His wide torso and bulging muscles that are now on display prove why the Livestrong’s were sought after to become alpha security. They’re huge. Jonah’s father is one of the biggest shifters—and subsequently humans—I’ve ever seen. Jonah has his genetics, for sure. He’s looked ages older than the rest of our wolfpeers since we were pups. He’s broader, stronger, and taller. Next to him, I feel small which makes my flight or fight kick in.
“What am I doing here?” he hisses. “Why in the hell are you wolfing out in the middle of Greystone Academy?” The severe look on his face tells me all I need to know. He’s disgusted. He doesn’t care about my reasonings. He only cares how my actions will make him
look to everyone else, and it’s clear he thinks I can’t control my wolf—or myself.
Ms. Ebon’s high heels click on the floor behind me. “I see you have a shirt arranged. I thought we’d have to call the guards to retrieve our newest student.”
“I’m very sorry for the inconvenience,” Jonah offers her with a pointed glare toward me.
My advisor hands me a pair of Greystone Academy sweats, and I pull them on right there in the middle of the hallway. I don’t mimic his apology. I’m not sorry. I’ve never understood the reasoning behind my ridicule. If the rumor behind my lineage is true, it’s not as if it’s my fault. Yet, I’m the one who takes the brunt of everyone’s hurtful comments and actions. Like being here, for instance.
“I can’t say I’ve ever had a student wolf out on me during our first meeting.”
“I wasn’t going to hurt you,” I mutter.
“Oh, I’m well aware, Miss Walker. You just want to hurt everyone else.”
Her words attempt to drown me in shame, but honestly, she’s not wrong, so I brush them off. Why wouldn’t I want to hurt everyone else? They’ve hurt me.
She nods at my mate. At least she gives him the same blunt treatment she’s been giving me. Her heels click again, retreating. I turn, giving Jonah my back, and walk away, trying to get how freaking handsome he is out of my head. I told myself not to ogle his muscles, and I did a good job considering, but that doesn’t mean his pecs aren’t currently burned into my brain. Fucking damn him.
“I’ll expect my shirt returned,” Jonah calls out.
“I’ll give it back right now.”
He growls, the sound low in his throat. It makes me stop, the hair on the back of my neck rising.
“No mate of mine will be walking around topless.”
I pull my shoulders back. “You rejected me, remember? I am no mate of yours.”
My wolf bares her teeth again, but I’m on a roll now, so I ignore her. If I also didn’t think walking around topless was a horrible idea, I’d whip the shirt off right here in this hallway to prove my point. I still have to continue my talk with Ms. Ebon, though. What a way to finish a meeting that started awkward. I’d be upping that factor by a few hundred notches if I went in tits out.
