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“Sterling’s chances of defeating Alan this summer are almost non-existent. You know that. I know that.” Marcella growled.
“Sterling doesn’t have to beat Alan,” I whispered. “He just has to fight him to a draw.”
“A draw will be theworstpossible outcome.” Marcella released me.
For her, maybe.
“He is not your mate,” Marcella repeated. “Do not say his name. Even to yourself.”
The big, incomprehensible swell of feelings became a knot in my side.
How many times had thisexactsame conversation been had over the centuries? Where the Luna tells the she-wolf who her mate is? Gaia’s Ass, it had all come full circle. I decided to try on a deferential tone. “Yes, Luna.”
Didn’t sound sincere. We both knew it. I’d need more practice.
“I strongly suggest, for your long-term benefit, you go into your pairing with Searle with an open mind,” Marcella said tersely. “And you keep your grief to yourself. We have informed Searle that thiswillbe permanent, barring the unlikely events of Sterling’s victoryorSearle’s true mate appearing. Outside of those twohighly unlikelyscenarios, this is your life. Live it.”
Pieces of my soul flaked off. Grief gushed in, pressing against my lungs until I could barely breathe.
Marcella gave my appearance one final once-over, then told Sarah to take me to the parlor for the presentation.
My silver scar throbbed, my entire left side was on fire, and the anguish was so vast it threatened to crush me.
A few moments later, and I caught the scent of Marcella, Demetrius, and another wolf—male, masculine, aggravated and frustrated. Sort of the scent of a hunter who had missed his shot and gotten tumbled under the prey’s paws.
Searle couldn’t be happy about being officially declared without a mate and forced to participate in this. A wolf didn’t become an Elder First Beta to getthisreward.
Perhaps we’d have some common ground, then.
He’d probably beenvoluntold.Had Searle even beentoldabout this plan before it had happened?
Had Demetrius just rolled up back to AmberHowl with my ragged body in tow and saidcongratulations, I found your mate?
The doors opened, while I sat with my hands in my lap and tried to look at least somewhat dignified, but my hair was in a plain tie, and a loose tee-shirt with someone else’s gray sweatpants, and no socks or panties, smelling of the wound on my side and grief didn’t make me anyone’s prize.
My heart prayed it would be Sterling who came around the door, and for a second, the badger in my head believed this was all some stupid, horrible test to tease out something, and it would be Sterling there.
The badger chewed right through my soul when a tall, large, dark-haired wolf about Sterling’s age came into the room with Marcella and Demetrius.
I inhaled, unwittingly catching his scent, and the taste sank onto my tongue, the back of my throat. Sterling’s scent had made me dizzy, summoned the seasons and the moon, but Searle’s was nothing like that. His scent reminded me of leather and fur and the feeling of pine needles and tree bark. He also smelled of hay and grain and meadows and sunlight.
He was exactly what one expected of a junior First Beta of an Elder pack: a large, fit wolf that exuded dominance and prestige and masculine presence that seemed to fill his physique and extended several inches beyond it. His dark hair was cut short, revealing it would have been a charming tumble of curls if it had been longer. His jaw showed no evidence he ever needed to shave, and the forearms extending under his short-sleeved shirt revealed no hair, and corded muscle, ending in broad, thick hands with long fingers.
He gave me a Beta’s quick, appraising glance, taking me in with just one sweep of his gaze. Whatever he was expecting or whatever he had been prepared for, I wasn’t it, and his scent shifted from disgruntled anger to outright frustrated... well... notfury, exactly.
“Summer,” Demetrius said, “this is Searle. Searle, Summer.”
Summer. My guts threatened to escape through the hole in my side as opposed to through my mouth onto the floor. I twisted my fingers together on my lap and then stopped.
Demetrius, who was half a head shorter than Searle, turned slightly towards his First Beta. “Any questions?”
“No, Alpha.” His voice was unexpectedly soft and low. It sent my nerves jangling.
“Your mate has been through an ordeal, as you know.” Demetrius sounded like he was telling two different stories with the same words. “And all of this is completely new. Be patient and loving. She is the other half of your soul, even if right now you are not sure what that means. It’s very disorienting and unsettling for many new pairs, especially in shocking circumstances.”
Who was Demetrius even talking to? Everyone in the damn room knew what was really going on.
The commitment to this shitty gimmick was terrifying.
