Page 18 of Trusting Her Mate

“I’m great,” I say brightly. “I acquired sanctuary, breakfast, a fake mate, and a cabin with murder decor all before noon.”

Raine’s eyes sparkle. “Murder decor?”

I gesture toward the knives.

“I knew someone would appreciate the aesthetic,” she says.

Boone closes the basket harder than necessary. “They’re tools.”

“That’s what I said.” I sip my tea. “Murder tools.”

Iris laughs softly, then says, “Peyton asked us to help make the arrangement look believable before Ashstone starts sniffing around.”

My stomach sinks. “Already?”

Talon nods. “Their wolves are parked at the edge of territory. Caine has patrols watching them.”

The tea curdles in my gut. Dax is still here. Of course he is. I can see him now—polished boots, that smug, poisonous smile, already plotting how to tear me down in front of everyone who matters.

My mother is still in Ashstone. My brother, too. And I’m more worried about them than I would like to admit.

The room tilts, just a little. Boone shifts, closing the distance by a single step, and suddenly his scent is everywhere—pine, smoke, wolf, heat. My wolf strains toward him, hungry for something I can’t name. I clutch the mug like it’s the only thing keeping me upright.

Talon notices. Her expression gentles, but she doesn’t comment. “We need a few details.”

“What kind of details?” I ask.

Raine drops the blankets on the couch. “Fake courtship details. How you met. How long you’ve known. Why no one knew Boone had a secret almost-mate.”

Boone’s face goes blank. A delighted horror spreads through me.

“Oh,” I say. “This is going to be fun.”

“No,” Boone says.

“Yes,” Raine says.

“No,” Boone repeats.

Talon ignores him. “Your story has to be simple. Too many details create holes.”

I nod seriously. “Right. Simple. Boone saw me across a moonlit meadow and was overcome by passion.”

Boone makes a sound, and Iris bites her lip.

Raine points at me. “I love that.”

“No,” Boone says again.

“Fine,” I say. “He saw me across a reasonably lit parking lot and was mildly inconvenienced by attraction.”

Talon snorts while Boone looks at the ceiling like he’s praying for strength. I enjoy that gesture more than I should.

Iris pulls a small notebook from the basket. “Let’s try believable.”

We gather around the kitchen table, the women staking out their seats like generals plotting a siege. Boone stands behind me, arms crossed, refusing to sit, like dropping his guard for even a second would cost him everything. I try to look casual, but my nerves are screaming, and I know I’m not fooling anyone.

Talon cracks her knuckles and lifts her notebook. “All right, Wren. When did you and Boone meet?”