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Not that it matters. Even if we’re not fated, we could be mates, and I don’t want to give my poor parents the impression when that’s not how Duke sees me at all. Because, while an alpha wolf is usually blessed with the identity of their mate, regular deltas aren’t. We either luck out on finding our fated mate or we don’t. But since we’re also not solitary creatures, we make the best of it and choose a mate instead.
He could have anyone.
Though, as I start setting the ingredients out, muscle memory taking over as the familiar scents of vanilla and sugar, baking powder and butter fill my cozy kitchen… I have to ask myself: why not me?
Now, he’s not my fated mate. I’m fairly sure of that. I’ve known of him for years, and have gotten closer and closer in the last seven months. If he was, there should’ve been some sign that we were meant for each other. Some kind of bond building between us.
Sorry, I don’t count the trauma bond, or his need to protect me even now that we’re home. So, no. He’s not my fated mate. Duke’s never made any move like I could be his, either. I’m probably being ridiculous, mistaking my gratitude and affection for something else… but all the way up until I’m standing outside of Duke’s cabin, a dozen cupcakes in my trembling grasp, I can’t help but wonder: what if?
I know he’s home. I can sense his comforting aura like a warm blanket on a chilly mountain night even from twenty yards away. I’d taken a chance, hoping he’d be at his cabin instead of on patrol—and that he’d be alone—but I’ve always been impulsive.
It took everything I had to wait until the cupcakes were cool to decorate them, and even longer for the frosting to set before I could transport them through the woods. By the time Duke opens the door, my wolf is almost whining, looking for some sign that he is pleased by my token.
One thing for sure, the puzzled look on Duke’s face when he sees me standing there definitely isn’t one.
“Trish? What are you doing here?”
He sounds guarded. Wary. Makes sense. He must’ve figured out that I’d snuck out to sleep by his wolf last night, but it was equally obvious that I left him before he woke up. So focused on planning what kind of cupcakes I was going to make, I didn’t even think to offer him some breakfast. As if nothing was different, I walked away, and he did the same when he got up.
But something was different. I felt it when my wolf shifted for the first time in ages, and it only became undeniable as I was baking. Whatever relationship we have, I don’t want Duke to go back to being the silent shadow in the distance. For good or for bad, we have a tie forged in silver, and I need to respect that.
Starting with making him an offering of his own.
“I made you something.” Holding the cupcake platter out to Duke, I say, “Here. These are for you.”
At first, he doesn’t take it. My heart sinks all the way down to my feet when all Duke does is stare at the twelve frosted cupcakes as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
“What’s this?”
“You’re always bringing me food. I thought it was about time I did the same.”
Everyone knows what it means when a shifter provides food for another. For so long, I’ve accepted that I was the only exception… but I don’t want Duke to be. I want him to take these cupcakes from me and know that I’m saying: I will feed you, I will love you, and you’ll want for nothing while I’m around.
I wait on a bated breath to see if he will, swallowing the sound of relief when he does with a solemn, “That was nice of you.”
Screw nice. “If you say so.”
Him accepting them isn’t enough. For my wolf to be satisfied, he has to actually take a bite.
“Go on.” I use my chin to gesture at the tray. “Aren’t you going to eat them? Have a bite?”
“I will. Later. Thank you. I… thanks.”
There was nothing else to do. Unless I decided to climb him like a tree and shove one of my cupcakes into his mouth, I couldn’t force him to eat them if he didn’t want to. I just have to hope he does.
I smile, though my heart’s not quite in it. For a female who spent years being endlessly rejected by the male she wanted, you’d think I’d be used to it. I’m not. And, Luna, it’s especially worse when I thought I might… I might have found someone else who would accept me for me.
I guess I was the one reading way too much into it.
* * *
I shouldn’t be disappointed.Tell that to my wolf.
The whole way back to my cabin, she was laying flat on her belly, paws forward, muzzle resting on her legs. I almost want to mimic her pose. The high from shifter last night has come crashing down on me, all because I saw something that wasn’t there and made a foolish, rash decision to act on it.
Like I said. I should’ve known better.
After I enter my cabin, locking the door behind me like usual, I do the routine check to make sure no one came inside while I was gone; without a key, I can’t lock up when I go, though even pouting, my wolf is strong enough to sense any intruder upon my return. I frown when I see the mess I left behind in the kitchen. So excited to bring my cupcakes to Duke, I left the bowls and dishes and half-fill piping bag where they were.
