The Wolf’s Forbidden Mate

by Carson, Jenny

  The Wolf’s Forbidden Mate

  Jenny Carson

  The Wolf’s Innocent Mate

  By Jenny Carson

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  authorjennycarson@gmail.com

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  https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJennyCarson/

  Copyright © April 2019 by Jenny Carson

  First E-book Publication: April 2019

  Editor: Kasi Alexander

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.

  Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.

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  Contents

  The Wolf’s Forbidden Mate

  Blurb

  Prologue

  1. Jasinda

  2. Colt

  3. Jasinda

  4. Colt

  5. Jasinda

  6. Colt

  7. Jasinda

  8. Colt

  9. Jasinda

  10. Colt

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  The Wolf’s Forbidden Mate

  Unforgiven Country, 2

  Blurb

  I’m a shifter. We have our own rules, customs.

  At least we’re supposed to.

  When my father went against tradition and arranged a mating for me—one he said would better the pack, I did the only thing I could. I ran.

  I want to choose who I love, who I mate.

  But my fleeing has me stranded in Unforgiven … face to face with my fated mate. A wolf who refuses to let me go.

  And I don’t want him to.

  I don’t want to deny either of us what comes naturally … being together in every conceivable way.

  But what happens when my father and betrothed mate find me? Will it start an all-out war? Or can they see I’m finally happy, finally where I’m supposed to be?

  Prologue

  Colt

  He is the Alpha.

  He’s found his mate.

  I should obey his every word.

  But I won’t.

  I can’t.

  Wyatt has every fucking thing in the world, and here I am with nothing but shit in my hand.

  I lean against the railing on the deck, staring at the acres of woods behind my cabin. I’m holding onto my coffee mug a little too tightly and I have to force myself to loosen my grip, for fear of shattering the ceramic.

  I am tense, every bone in my body threatening to break, my wolf wanting to shift.

  Staying in my animal form sounds like a good retreat, a safe haven from my torrential emotions.

  I’m pissed. Really fucking angry if I am being honest. The shit with Wyatt only intensifies those emotions, bringing out the worst in me.

  But our past isn’t an easy one.

  I push away from the railing and head back inside. My gaze instantly lands on the framed photo I have sitting on the mantle. I don’t know why I keep the damn thing out, maybe a memory of everything I’ve lost.

  I find myself walking up to that picture, taking hold of it and looking down at the four people smiling back at me.

  It’s an image of Wyatt and me when we were children, our fathers standing on either side of us, their hands on our shoulders. We’re all smiling, brothers by bond, family by choice. Our fathers were best friends, his father the Alpha of the pack, mine next in line. We were training to take over, deciding to rule the pack together, as a team.

  It was always the plan.

  But everything changes with time, I suppose.

  And right before Wyatt’s father passed, he elevated Wyatt to Alpha, totally disregarding my father’s rightful place in line. Then he passed away, and Wyatt became Alpha. There was a pull of power between him and my dad. It was one I never anticipated, but one that happened nonetheless.

  It put a strain between us, this wedge that stripped friends apart, almost making us enemies. And then, when my father passed things got worse. There was no talk of us rolling together, the bitterness that had festered in both of us too much to smooth over, too deep to even repair.

  And that is why I am thinking of leaving Unforgiven, just packing up my shit and starting over somewhere else. I am a lone wolf by nature anyway, so maybe this is what fate has always had in store for me.

  1

  Jasinda

  The thought of starting over scares the shit out of me, but with where I’m at in my life, it is exactly what needs to be done.

  The few boxes I have in the trunk of my car, the two suitcases in my backseat, and a wallet filled with not nearly enough money, is all I have.

  So, on a whim, I closed my eyes and pointed to a map.

  It brought me to Unforgiven Country, a mountain town. I’d researched and found out it is mainly shifters living in the middle of nowhere.

  Good. That’s exactly what I need.

  Being out in the middle of nowhere is exactly what a wolf shifting runaway desires.

  My cell vibrates and I know who it is without even looking at it.

  My father.

  The Alpha of our pack.

  The person who promised me to another member of our pack, the next Alpha in line.

  And although any female would have loved to be mated to Stark, a male with power and strength, good looks and status, he is not for me. He is not my mate.

  And that’s why I fled. That’s why I am running away from my family, from my pack.

  2

  Colt

  I’m too keyed up. Too much anger, too much frustration and, if I’m honest, too much damn loneliness boiling inside of me. I strip out of my clothes as I make my way to my back door, letting the change, the shift, overtake me. Tonight of all nights my wolf needs to run free. I need the calming effect of the moon, to feel the wind ruffle my fur and center myself with nature. I barely throw my shirt over my shoulder to join the rest of my clothes when my paws hit the hard ground and I take off running.

  I let the beast take over, let him howl as my human side retreats. I’m conscious of what’s going on, but definitely letting my inner animal dominate. He runs for miles; when we began the moon was just starting to rise. Now it’s high in the middle of the sky, shining its light down upon us. My wolf is breathing hard and makes his way to a small stream and drinks. The wind picks that moment to kick up and I can feel it drifting through my fur.

  As a wolf, my senses are more alert, more precise and each breath of wind feels like a caress. I can scent the evening dew, the crush of leaves, the freshness of air with just a hint of coming rain. It all runs through me and soothes my anger, my wild energy. Still, even with the anger gone there is an emptiness, a sadness that I can’t quite let go of. I’m beginning to fear it’s become a part of me, a piece that has woven so deep inside that it will forever color who I am, how I react. It’ll poison me with time.

  A wolf is not meant to live on anger, to survive being a shell. It will eventually turn them feral. I’ve never seen it, but I’ve heard whispers of it my entire life. Supposedly, a wolf in our pack named Dakota turned feral after losing his son. I don’t remember it. It happened at a time I was gone from Unforgiven to see some of the world before settling down and preparing myself to help my father and Wyatt’s… to help Wyatt.

  I slam the door on my past me
mories. I don’t need those, it defeats the purpose of me letting my wolf run.

  Another gust of wind rises up and with it a scent that slides into me like warm liquid. It melds in me, seems to infuse with my veins, my very cells, blending with my blood and running through my heart, causing it to beat harder, to beat… fiercer. My wolf whines, as an all-over body shudder moves through me. It feels like the earth tilts on its axis and it settles inside of me.

  One word rings clear, vibrating in my brain. My wolf howls in victory.

  Mate.

  Mine.

  My wolf leaps through the brush, pounding through the forest at breakneck speed intent only on getting to her. I can smell her sweet scent, a mixture of wild honeysuckle and jasmine. It’s odd how defined those scents are, overriding everything else. I begin to try and wrangle my wolf. I don’t want him to scare her with the intensity of need that is hitting both me and my animal.

  And, as much as I love my wolf being a part of me, the first time I meet my mate I prefer to be in human form.

  I want to feel her with my hands, kiss her lips with mine, memorize her body and get her used to my touch. There will be time for my wolf to bond with her later.

  It feels like it takes me forever to get control of my animal side. We’re almost at the edge of the forest when I finally do. As I break through the tree line, bones begin breaking and realigning, features begin changing and my eyesight begins to adjust. I look down and slowly see my paws change into hands. To the outsider it would look painful, but it’s not. It feels natural.

  The problem is that now I’m standing at the edge of the clearing out by the old county road twenty-one and I’m naked. There’s a car pulled to the side of the road. Standing beside it is a woman dressed in faded jeans and a white T-shirt. She’s got hair the color of midnight, the locks long and falling in soft waves that cascade all the way down her back. Her face is soft and pale, reminding me of the moonlight I love. Her eyes are big, bright and with my vision, even with the small distance between us, I can tell are green.

  I can hear her heart beating a frantic rhythm, and I can smell her fear. I don’t want that. It’s to be expected. We might be mates, but there’s an air of innocence in her scent. I look around frantically for something to cover myself with.

  There’s nothing.

  I can’t meet her like this. My wolf whines in argument, but I shut him down. The woman is looking in my direction.

  She’s not human and my wolf can sense her inner animal at the surface, ready to fight, to protect.

  She can sense me, but she’s scared—way too scared to meet me like this. Right now, I want to push her down against her car and fuck her raw as I bite into her soft skin and mark her as mine. I can’t do that. Her scent is thick with innocence. She’s untouched.

  Virginal and scared.

  I let my mind open, reaching out to touch hers. If we had that connection, I would mate with her now. I wouldn’t give her a choice, couldn’t control myself. Her thoughts are rapid and definitely laced with fear. She’s afraid of me. My wolf hurts, not wanting that any more than I do. She may be a shifter, but somehow, she’s been kept away from our baser instincts. That fact is a puzzle to me, one I cannot wait to piece together.

  She has but one thought that rings out over and over.

  Cornerstone Motel.

  She’s headed there, I can feel it. Satisfied that I know where she’ll be, I drag one last breath deep in my chest, taking in her scent, memorizing it. I’ll track her, find her easily, and when I do, I’ll never let her go.

  3

  Jasinda

  They found me.

  There is no other explanation to what I felt out there in the middle of nowhere, my car broken down, the feeling I was being watched strong.

  Then again, I knew they would.

  I left, escaped my duties, turned my back on my pack, my father, and the man I am betrothed to. But I can’t go back. I refuse.

  My life isn’t something my father can buy and sell, not something he can give away. It is my choice, my decision who I marry, who I love. When I fled, I knew the repercussions, I knew that what I was doing was a betrayal to my pack ... to my family.

  My father, the other wolves, they would have never understood how I felt, where I was coming from. All they’ve ever seen is obligation, duty.

  And maybe that’s why I feel like I just don’t belong there.

  I close the motel door, lock it, and toss my bag onto the bed. I immediately go to the window and pull down the blinds, looking outside. I can put this off to my nerves being shot, my paranoia taking root. But my wolf has risen up, and when she does that, I know this isn’t just me being worried.

  I can’t stay here. I have to keep moving.

  I hate this, having to leave my family, having to start over because they just don’t understand, don’t realize that I’m not a pawn.

  And then there is Stark, the strongest wolf in our pack aside from my father, the Alpha. He is a good male, just not for me. My life would have been his, in every sense of the word. Being betrothed to a wolf means he calls the shots.

  We wouldn’t have been truly mated. We wouldn’t have that fated tether that would keep us together.

  And that what I want.

  I won’t be a vessel, a female to produce his heirs. No, that’s not me, that’s not my life.

  I should’ve just kept going, driving to the next town because I felt a presence here, following me, but I am tired, so damn tired that I don’t think I could’ve driven further anyway.

  Not to mention my car overheated and I had to drop it off at a garage, the estimated fixed date tomorrow afternoon.

  Even if I want to leave, I’m stuck, hiding in this motel because I have no other means of transportation.

  I move away from the window and sit on the edge of the bed, my body aching. I want to run free, to shift, to get some of this nervous energy out, but it’s not safe for me out there. So, I’ll hole up here, rest and try to relax.

  Easier said than done.

  I let myself fall back on the mattress, my arms spread out, my body sinking into the bed. I stare at the popcorn-style ceiling, a few water stains in the corner. Light from the setting sun washes the room in different shades of color, and I find myself closing my eyes.

  I’ll just rest for a little bit, just close my eyes for a moment. And I do that, feeling myself drift off.

  The sound of someone banging on the door wakes me with a start. The room is dark, pitch black. How long have I been sleeping for?

  My vision adjusts instantly, my shifter senses acute and clear. I sit up quickly, my wolf right at the surface now, pacing, ready to shift and protect if need be. The hairs on my arms stand on end, my heart racing, my hands starting to shake.

  I push myself off the bed and walk toward the door, the small peephole allowing me to look through. There’s a man standing on the other side, his back to me, his short, dark hair a haphazard mess on his head.

  If he thinks I’m going to open the door, he is fucking insane. Most likely he has been sent by my father. But then again, my father is the type of male that would come and bust the door down himself, not have his henchman knock on it like he is housekeeping.

  And then the man turns around and everything in my body tightens, grows alert and alive. He can’t see me, I know that, but he stares right at me through the door, the sound of him growling low piercing every single cell in my body, seeping right down into my very marrow.

  I take a step back, but not before I reach out and unlock the door. I didn’t plan to do it. It happens subconsciously, as if my wolf knows, is taking over. But before I can lock it again, knowing that opening this part of my life will only cost me more trouble, I find myself moving backward.

  My mate.

  He’s right outside the door.

  He’s here.

  Those words play over in my head, like a broken record, repeating until I’m drowning in them. As everything happens in slow motion,
I watch the handle to the motel room turn, the door push open. And then he’s standing on the other side, this big, muscular wolf shifter staring right at me with half-lidded eyes, the growl coming from him one of possession.

  I’m shaking my head as I take a step back, but the bed stops my retreat, has me sitting down abruptly.

  And as I tip my head back and look into his face, I know one thing for certain.

  Now that he’s found me, he won’t let me go.

  4

  Colt

  Fuck.

  She’s even more beautiful than I first realized. She’s tiny, probably only standing around five-foot-five. Her green eyes are shining like emeralds and have a liquid quality to them. Her dark hair is long and falls in waves. I can’t resist reaching out to touch it.

  She is perfection.

  “Your name,” I growl, the sound thick from the beast within me. I’m barely controlling the change. I can’t even form a complete sentence, proving I’m definitely more beast than man right now.

  “Jasinda,” she responds and her voice pours over me, soothing me and my beast in ways I’ve never known before. I can smell how nervous she is, the shock of finding her mate resonating within her.

  “I’m Colt.”

  “This can’t be happening,” she murmurs, her head shaking no, strands of her hair moving against my fingers.

  I frown in confusion, tilting my head to watch the myriad emotions on her face. I inhale deeply and even as her scent of jasmine and honeysuckle wash over me, I can smell her innocence and something much stronger.