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I make my way around my house and strip quickly, shifting to my wolf and taking off through the woods. I run for hours, trying to clear my head, trying to erase images of the sweet and supple Eden. It’s no use though. Even if I somehow manage to lose focus on her for a second, she’s my neighbor. My best friend’s mate is her best friend, which in some alternate reality, would be perfect. But in this reality? I’m cursed and I don’t deserve a happily ever after.
By the time I make it home and pull my clothes on, it’s dark out. There’s a light on in Eden’s house and I look through the window, spotting her in the kitchen. I pause on the steps, a fresh bout of self-hatred filling me when I see how pale and sad she looks.
I should go over there and comfort her, but I wouldn’t have the first clue how to do that. She heads out of the kitchen and I follow her, leaning against my front porch as she takes a seat on that old plaid couch.
“Am I going to have to arrest you for stalking?” Tucker, the sheriff, asks.
I startle, pushing away from my porch and facing him. I was so distracted by Eden that I didn’t even notice him approaching.
“Just enjoying the night,” I lie and he snorts.
“Sure.”
His eyes cut over to where he can clearly see Eden through her living room window. and I sigh.
“She’s my mate,” I admit and he grins.
“Congratulations, man. Lucky you,” he says and I can see the envy in his eyes.
Tucker grew up a little north of here and he was the only one to answer our ad looking for a sheriff. I’m not sure what that says about him that he was willing to come to Twisted Oak and enforce the law when all that was known of this pack was terrible things. I had been worried about him, but he’s a good guy, with a strict moral code. He makes a good sheriff.
I can see that he wants to find his mate, and for a moment, I feel guilty that I’ve found mine and refuse to claim her. All shifters were taught from a young age that our mates are gifts from fate. It’s an insult to reject them, as well as a one-way ticket to a miserable life.
Am I really sure not claiming her is still the right move? I’ll be miserable, but so will she… Better miserable than dead,the old refrain kicks in. It doesn’t have the same power this time as it normally does, however. The more time I spend around Eden, the weaker my resolve becomes.
“Why are you out here then instead of in there with your mate?” Tucker asks and I look down at my feet. The longing in his voice is clear. He thinks I’m wasting precious time not being with my mate. I wouldn’t be surprised if Tucker took an extended vacation soon and left to try to find his own mate.
“I haven’t told her yet,” I finally answer.
“Shit, man. What are you waiting for?”
“The right time,” I lie.
“You’re a stronger man than me then,” he says with a laugh.
He punches my arm and I force a smile to my lips.
“Have a good night, Alpha.”
I nod and Tucker turns and heads off. I glance back at Eden’s house, but all of the lights are off now. I sigh and head inside my place, determined to get a good night’s sleep tonight so that I can make things right with my mate tomorrow. Hopefully, by the morning, I’ll have a better idea of how to do that.
CHAPTER FIVE
EDEN
“Quit looking for him. He doesn’t want you. You’re only going to get hurt,” I mumble to myself as I mark the wood and grab the saw to cut it.
I’m working on the inside staircase today, or I’m trying to anyway. I keep getting distracted by thoughts of Ryker. I know that I shouldn’t. It’s silly and stupid and he’s clearly not interested. I should just treat him like a neighbor since we’re never going to be anything more. It was such a dumb idea to get my hopes up.
I thought he was different, that he saw me as more than a klutz or a nuisance, but yesterday proved me wrong about that.
I sigh, shaking my head and trying to clear thoughts of Ryker and my disastrous crush from my head as I line the saw up with the marker and start to saw through the wood.
I’m feeling pretty good about this project, to be honest. Watching Ryker do the step outside helped, and as I saw through the board, I feel a surge of independence and confidence.
That feeling quickly passes when the teeth of the saw get stuck. I tug on the handle, gripping the board tighter as I yank.
“Ow!” I yelp as the saw twists, cutting my finger. “Crap, crap, crap,” I mutter under my breath. I pull my hand away to survey the damage, groaning when I see the blood running down my fingers.
