Page 21 of Israel

“Always,” Jesse said softly, coming into the picture and caressing a strand of her hair. “But I still love your boobs.”

Sophia smiled and leaned her head against his hand.

“Hey,” Kane said to Rachelle, frowning. “I thought you said men weren’t supposed to focus on a woman’s boobs when they’re telling her she’s beautiful.”

Rachelle just giggled.

“So I’m supposed to talk dirty respectfully?” Israel said. “While being a good listener and occasionally taking a bullet for her.”

Sure. He’d get right on that.

Emma frowned. “Um. You know, that doesn’t sound quite as doable when you say it all together like that.”

Terin leaned forward. “Just look in your heart,” she said softly. “And try to learn about who she really is—the things that matter to her. You’ll do fine.”

Rafe said, “Yeah. You know, when I first met Terin and didn’t know how things would work out, Jace told me something. He said, ‘If she’s your true mate, then she needs you, too.’”

Jace called out from off-camera, “See? I know shit. That’s why I’m the alpha.”

Rafe turned and gave Jace the finger. “Just try to be there when she needs you,” he said to Israel.

“And let her be there when you need her,” Rachelle added, squeezing Kane’s hand.

There were murmurs of agreement, and then the room cleared until only Kane was left.

“I guess that wasn’t helpful at all, huh,” he said.

“Actually, it kind of was,” Israel said. “Even if your advice sucked.” Because he’d realized two things: how good it felt to have his pack brothers—and sisters—in his corner, and how much it was possible to fuck up and still somehow end up with a mate.

He felt like he just might have a shot at this after all.

Until he saw her onstage.

Israel stood in the back of the concert venue, watching Ashley’s final set. It was better than he could possibly have imagined.

She had…everything. Not just singing talent, not just charisma, not just star quality. Onstage, there was no sign of the prickly diva who kept everyone at a distance. She was sassy and charming, but with a warmth and a hint of vulnerability that drew the audience in and held them enthralled.

And her voice.

The whole band had beautiful voices, but Ashley’s was something extraordinary.

It had been amazing enough in the dressing room, just her and her guitar. But here onstage, in front of the audience, it was even more. Joyful and powerful, plaintive and soulful. The upbeat songs raised his spirits and made him smile, and the ballads speared straight through his heart, bringing up feelings and experiences he’d forgotten—or ones he wished he’d had.

She took his breath away.

The problem was, he wasn’t the only one. The audience was not only enthralled with her—they adored her.

In all his dreams and fantasies of his true mate, he’d never imagined one so willful, complicated, and enchanting. He’d imagined the wolf equivalent of a little house with a white picket fence, a devoted wife and Sunday dinners with the family.

He’d imagined someone he wouldn’t have to share.

But now, watching Ashley embrace the crowd, he could feel the waves of love traveling back and forth between them. Thousands of people, cheering and adoring her. She poured all her energy, her music, her special magic out on them, and they returned it a thousandfold.

This was where she was happy.

His wolf howled, and he felt a crushing despair. How the hell was he ever supposed to compete with that?