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“Tell us about her.” Andaya sank onto the sofa beside Koen. “You’ve been stingy with details.”
Because Isaiah hadn’t seen the point in relaying them when he hadn’t been sure the meet would amount to anything. “Her name’s Quinley. She’s twenty-five. A submissive. Works at a beauty salon. And she belongs to the Crimson Pride.” Though not for much longer.
“Crimson Pride,” echoed Andaya, her brow creased. “I don’t think I’ve heard of it.”
“What makes you think she’ll fit you?” asked Koen.
“We’re similar in some ways—blunt, decisive, determined, calm,” said Isaiah. “We’re on the same page, want the same things, and she has no issues with transferring to our pride. She also knows what it’s like to find your true mate but be unable to have them.” And also apparently understood the impact of toxic rumors.
Koen’s brows inched up. “Is hers human like yours?”
Isaiah shook his head. “No. He’s a shifter. He not only rejected her, he claimed and fully imprinted on her Alpha’s daughter.”
Andaya winced in sympathy. “So Quinley’s had a front row seat to their personal show.”
“To an extent.” Isaiah sank deeper into his chair. “It seems that the couple moved to his pride for a while after the claiming. But they’ll soon be back, and then they’ll be appointed as the Crimson Pride Alphas.”
Realization washed over Koen’s face. “Yes, I can see why she’d be in a hurry to mate. No wonder she has no issues with a transfer. What breed of shifter is she?”
“A black-foot.”
Andaya blinked. “Well, at least she won’t bat an eyelid at how pallas cats are.”
Speaking of eyelids not batting… “She believed me when I told her the rumors about me were false.”
His mother frowned. “You told her about them?”
“No. Her Alpha seemingly had his Beta look into me. He heard about the rumors and asked if those who spread them would give Quinley any problems.” Isaiah crossed his feet at his ankles. “She dismissed the rumors; said the people persisting to believe that I was guilty were dicks.”
Her frown smoothing out, Andaya smiled. “I like her already.”
“I think she’ll make a good addition to the pride,” said Isaiah. “She’s a healer who specializes mostly in easing pain. We don’t have anyone like that.”
Koen tipped his head to the side. “You know, I wouldn’t have thought you’d choose a submissive for a mate. You never dated any.”
“I’ve always been very self-focused, and care needs to be taken with submissives.” Watching his mother bristle, Isaiah shot her a look. “Don’t pull that face, you know what I’m talking about. You don’t need to be handled delicately, but you do need someone who’s attentive, mindful, and focused on you. I couldn’t—and didn’t particularly want to—give that much of my time and energy to someone I was dating. But Quinley will be my mate, so it’s different.”
“How did your cat behave around her?” asked Koen.
“At first, he didn’t take much notice. But her cat is very bold and stays close to the surface, so that caught his attention.” Isaiah didn’t add that his cat had also been intrigued by her claim to be familiar with toxic rumors—he wasn’t going to share her private business with others unless she gave him her consent.
Andaya pulled out her cell. “I’ll contact the omegas and ask them to start getting the preparations ready for the celebration.”
“Way ahead of you on that. I texted Bree earlier.” As the primary omega, she took the lead in all omega-related matters. “She said to tell you that if you wanted to be involved just give her a call, so it seems she guessed that you’d want a hand in organizing the celebration.”
A pleased smile graced Andaya’s face. “I’ll call her once I leave here.” She eyed him carefully. “I know an arranged mating isn’t what you initially pictured for yourself, and I know it might continue to hurt for a very long time that you’ll never know what it is to be bonded to the other half of your soul. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be happy. You just have to be open to it.”
Isaiah felt his brow pinch. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because some elemental part of you may feel guilty for allowing yourself to be happy with anyone other than your predestined mate,” she explained. “And bonding with another can feel much like giving up all hope.”
His frown deepened. “I already did give it up.”
“There’s a difference between being aware that it would be foolish to hope and being able to shake it off all the way. Sometimes, ‘hope’ is a defense mechanism. We hold onto it for our emotional sake.”
“I don’t believe I’m still doing that.”
“Do you still keep tabs on Lucinda?” The question held a pinch of challenge.
