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FIFTEEN
Dax’s wolfwas attacking the door like he was practically rabid. I could hear men growling human words to each other on the other side—and I was almost positive they were holding the door up, or holding it shut.
Either way, they were just trying to keep Dax’s wolf from attacking them.
I watched on in shock for a few minutes too long, before a feminine voice yelled, “You’ve got to calm the wolf, Sab!”
Calm.
The wolf.
Right.
Shit.
Mate—I was his mate. Calming him was something I should’ve done.
If only I wasn’t the opposite of a natural at all this wolf shit. An unnatural. I’d wanted it for so long, but it seemed more like the werewolf magic wanted to destroy me than to actually help me.
“Davy,” I said, dropping to my ass beside the wolf. I put myself between him and the door, assuming it would stop him from ramming the door.
It did.
His snarls cut off, and he gave me a look that I could only describe as exasperation.
My lips curved upward, and I slipped my hands into his fur. He stepped closer to me, and then snuggled up against me as I scratched his head. His eyes closed, his chest rumbling in happiness instead of anger.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I teased the wolf softly. I could hear the other pack members in my living room, talking or arguing or something, but I tuned them out. “You’ve got quite the temper.”
He gave me a growly whine that I assumed was disagreement.
“If it’s not a temper, then why are you such a loose cannon?” I countered.
He whined again, rubbing his head up against my chest, neck, and face. I got the feeling that he was still trying to disagree—to tell me he wasn’t reacting like this because of his temper.
“But if not your temper, then what?” I mused quietly to myself, still scratching his head.
He hadn’t chosen me for ages after knowing me—at least, that was our current theory. That the wolf hadn’t wanted me at first, but changed his mind that day in the restaurant.
But… what if that wasn’t the case?
What if he had known I was his mate since the first moment he looked at me, but hadn’t been able to do anything about it for some reason? What if he just hadn’t been able to start his hunt, and there had been no signs of that?
What if we’d been soulmates the entire time, but his wolf hadn’t been able to trigger the hunt, so there was no way for us to know?
That would explain Dax’s interest in me, at least. Other than the fact that he just found me attractive.
But if that was the case, what had stopped the wolf from being able to hunt me? And what had changed when we ran into each other in the restaurant?
My mind continued to churn as I snuggled with Davy. He was no longer angry in the slightest, content to lick my face, arms, shoulders, and collarbone, as he rubbed his furry self against me. The romance reader in me told me he was probably marking me with his scent so that any wolf who came near me would know that I was his.
I didn’t hate the idea.
Not at all.
In fact, I loved it more than I should’ve.
Chewing my lip, I let my eyes close as my mind wandered back to the time we’d spent in bed together—Dax and me, not Davy and me, obviously.
