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With a defiant expression on his handsome face, creased with lines that weren’t there earlier and spattered with something that looks suspiciously like blood—but that’s, hopefully, mud—West says, “You said I couldn't tell. You didn’t say anything about showing you.”
That’s West for you: determined and logical, and unwilling to ever give up so easily when he wants something.
That’s how he convinced me to take a chance on him even when I always suspected he wasn’t his fated mate—and it’s why I do something that I’ll come to regret for years to come.
I accept the flowers.
CHAPTER2
SANDALWOOD
ONE MONTH EARLIER
Sandalwood.
I catch the alluring scent of sandalwood on the breeze filtering in through my open window before I catch a vague hint of honey peeking through the musk. Between the two of them, I know exactly who’s heading my way—and what he’ll be clutching between his fingers.
I don’t have any excuse to send him away right now. After how rough the last two weeks have been, I’d have to be a heartless female to try. So when I heard his gentle rap at my door, I take a moment to settle myself, then pull it in.
And there he is.
Weston, as gorgeous—and as untouchable—as ever.
On closer inspection, though, I can see the smallest of imperfections that hint at how rough of a time he’s having. His dark grey eyes faint have purple shadows beneath them. His hair—usually cut short—is overgrown. His body is as muscular and lean as ever, but he looks like he lost ten pounds in the last two weeks.
His t-shirt used to fit his sculpted chest perfectly. Now? It hangs loosely.
As always, his wolf is torn. He wants to throw himself at my feet, begging me to run my fingers through his fur, while also having this urge to run off in search of something.
No. Not something.
Someone.
My heart breaks for him. Not for the first time, I’m so glad that he can’t sense my emotions like I can other wolves.
He’s hurting, but he smiles when he sees me. “Hey. Can I come in?”
Oh, West…
He’s been so good. Since I asked him not to say ‘I love you’ to me, he’s only slipped up a few times. No reason to use the words when the hundreds and hundreds of flowers he’s brought me over the years sends the message loud and clear.
Still tries to get an invite into my personal territory, though. No matter how I always gently refuse to let him into the Omega cabin, he always tries.
I’ll give him credit. When I shake my head, he doesn’t push. He just holds out the purple coneflower wordlessly until I accept it.
Because I will, and he knows it.
Despite its name, the petals are closer to pink than purple. Silky soft beneath the pads on my fingers, I murmur a soft, “Thank you.”
He’s quick. A shifter male is always quick, and a beta is only second to an alpha. His fingers shoot out, stroking a stray strand of my long, wavy hair. Tucking it behind my ear, he brushes his finger along the shell. “I picked this one purpose. I thought it would look pretty in your hair.”
My skin all but burns where he touched me. These fleeting caresses are so rare, and though I know I shouldn’t, I treasure each and every one of them. When I finally leave Hickory, it’ll be all I can cling to.
I haven’t heard from Rafael since the day he walked into Hickory alongside the Beta of his pack and a pair of delta males. In front of his entourage and my brother, I pledged myself to Rafael as soon as he takes over as Alpha. In that moment, he went from my fated mate to my intended, and West officially became my ex.
He still refuses to accept that.
I always knew he was stubborn. Three years later, I know he’s clinging to something we can never have at the expense of the future I sacrificed so much to give him.
