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“I thought maybe you would ask me to organize a transfer,” said Harlan. “You don’t have to mate someone in order to have a place in another pride.”
“I know that. I want to do this.” Quinley had tried finding a mate the traditional way. She’d dated people from both inside and outside the pride, always open to having something more. But it either hadn’t worked out, or the male in question had intended to wait for his true mate.
What she needed was someone on the same page as her. Someone from outside the pride, so she could transfer from hers. Someone who wouldn’t want to move slowly. Someone who would fit her well enough that imprinting had a high chance of occurring.
Enter FindYourMatch.com.
And Isaiah Hale.
“You’re certain of that?” Harlan asked her.
She gave a decisive nod. “Positive.”
“And what about your cat?”
“She’s on board. She wants a mate, kids, a bond, the whole shebang.” What the feline didn’t want was to be anywhere near Zaire or Nazra, let alone pledge her loyalty to them.
Yes, the cat was still furious at him. She didn’t wish he’d made different choices, though. The animal thought him unworthy of her.
Quinley’s fury had been dead a long time. She hadn’t cried or raged when the pair had finally mated. Instead, a cold acceptance had settled over her. She’d made peace with the fact that she’d never experience a true-mate bond—something that bothered her more than his rejection at this point, because there was too much resentment there for her to pine for him.
But just because she’d made her peace with it didn’t mean she had any intention of answering to him or his chosen mate. Much like her cat, Quinley was not prepared to owe either of them anything, let alone obedience. Nor would she allow them to have any control over her life. She certainly couldn’t swear fealty to them—the words would be a lie.
Harlan leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on the desk. “People don’t enter into an arranged mating lightly.”
“I haven’t made the decision lightly.”
“You’re only in your mid-twenties. You have years ahead of you; years during which you might meet and mate someone the old fashioned way.”
“This way is faster.” And the old-fashioned method had so far failed her. “It’s not like this male is someone who I may have nothing in common with. The site only suggests pairings that suit.”
“She has a point,” Astor chipped in.
Harlan narrowed his eyes at the Beta. “And how can she know he answered his questionnaire honestly?”
Astor frowned. “It wouldn’t have served him to be dishonest, since he’d want his mating to be successful.”
Exactly. “You arrange matings all the time, Harlan. I don’t see why you’d be trying to talk me out of one.”
She hadn’t expected him to be bothered by her decision. His mate wouldn’t have, so Quinley kind of wished the woman wasn’t off visiting relatives—Nel would no doubt have helped speed things along.
The staunch slipped from his shoulders as he sighed. “I didn’t do right by you. I did right by the pride, by my daughter, by me. But not by you.”
Quinley stiffened, knowing what he meant; remembering how he’d come to her the morning after she’d had her first—and only—conversation with Zaire. Harlan had asked her to accompany him on a walk, so she had. And she felt her lips tighten as she recalled the conversation …
“You know, hormones are funny things, Quinley. They can confuse an otherwise perfectly rational teenager into believing the object of their affections is their true mate.”
She ground her teeth, infuriated by his insinuation. He was her Alpha. He was supposed to look out for her. Comfort her. Advise her. Support her.
“Now, the last thing I want is for Zaire to feel uncomfortable coming to our territory because one of my cats is insisting they’re fated to be,” Harlan went on. “He may not yet have signed a mating agreement, but it’s pretty much a done deal that he will mate Nazra and, in doing so, tighten the alliance between our pride and his.”
Quinley sensed that he expected her to duck her head, act all submissive, and go along with this shit. Instead, she asked, “Are alliances so important that true-mate bonds should be forsaken?”
He smiled, surprising her. “You’re sticking to your guns?” He sounded admiring rather than annoyed.
Quinley shrugged. “Fact is he’s my true mate. Another fact is that I can’t force him to acknowledge it, or to choose me over being an Alpha one day. Status is everything to black-foots, and I don’t have one. It wouldn’t make him unusual to renounce his fated mate in order to pursue an ambition. But the situation is still a steaming pile of shit.”
His smile kicked up a notch. “You have fire in you. Not many would try to tell me I’m wrong about anything—something you very expertly said without explicitly stating it.” The curve to his mouth faltered. “The thing is, Quinley, whether the situation’s fair to you or not isn’t going to matter here. He’s made his choice, hasn’t he? He’s not likely to change it.”
