The Lone Wolf’s Rejected Mate (The Five Packs Book 3)

4

MARI

I shiver in my nest, clutching a navy comforter with white anchors to my chest, my back itching as his cum dries.

The cabin is so quiet. The only sound is my own shallow breathing.

I can’t tell whether I’m hot or cold. Can you be both at the same time?

It’s like gravity glitched, and my blood dropped to my feet, but my poor heart’s still trying to pump, and it’s sputtering like a fish on dry ground.

I’ve been here before.

This isn’t my first time in a silent, empty cabin, my heart broken in pieces and scattered as I bleed out alone. I was a pup then, but it’s carved so deep in my mind, it’s not even a memory. Whenever I think about it, it’s always the present, always the moment I just lived through.

I didn’t know where to go that night, either. My mother was dead—she’d leapt off the bluff—and the grown-ups, in the chaos of the moment, hadn’t realized that no one had taken charge of me.

The pack males were searching the river for her body, the dams herding their own pups back to their beds. The young females assigned to watch us little ones during the run were busy whispering in horror to each other. I didn’t know where to go, so I went home. I crawled into my own bed and waited for someone to come and tell me what to do. And all night long, no one came.

I’m not a pup anymore. Now is not then. This is different, even if it doesn’t feel that way.

My wolf whines in distress, hyperalert and aware that something’s gone terribly wrong. She doesn’t understand, and she’s afraid. Our mate is gone, and it doesn’t make sense to her, not unless there was danger. I guess despite what the pack calls us, we’ve never felt unprotected before.

That’s how we feel now, though, my wolf and me.

Like we’re easy prey. Defenseless. And there are dangers—threats we foolishly ignored before—and they’re everywhere, lurking. Ferals. Moon mad wolves. Kidnappers from the Last Pack.

My adrenaline surges. Suddenly frantic, I root around the blankets for my clothes. I find my tank top and tug it on, but I can’t find my skirt or blouse, so I fish out a sheet that isn’t obviously soiled with fluids and wrap it around myself like a toga. I don’t waste time looking for my shoes.

We need to get to safety. My wolf shivers in a dark corner, but that’s okay, I’m going to take care of us.

I race barefooted out of the cabin, avoiding the path and Darragh’s scent trail that leads straight out of camp for the foothills. I take a circuitous route, cut behind the commissary and along the lawn where my drunk father punted my baby basket like a football because I was nothing to him, too.

Although the lights are out, I hurry past the lodge and stumble my way through the thick woods behind it until I reach the ridge that leads to the lone female cabin. Pricker bushes bite at my soles and ankles, but I don’t let it slow me down. When I get home, I let myself in as quietly as I can manage and force my breath to calm.

The cabin is dark except for the glow of the TV screen. Kennedy jumps to her feet, dropping the controller to the coffee table with a clatter. No one else is up. Finally, I catch a break. Like I’d been waiting to be home safe, I burst into instant hot tears again.

Kennedy’s wolf rattles in her chest. “Where is he? I’ll kill him,” she says, her voice dropping, her wolf coming through.

“Be quiet.” I snatch her by the wrist and drag her out to the porch. I don’t want to wake the others. No one can know about this. Ever. I’m already a tragic tale in this pack. I don’t need them to think I’m straight up cursed, and I must be, right?

Or not. Maybe I’m just a naïve, low-ranking female who no one wants beyond whatever small use I can serve.

Kennedy scans me for injuries, and her nose turns up. No doubt she smells him on me.

I have to shower. I need to burn this sheet and this stupid, little girl’s cami with the stupid, little pink rosette. I don’t want anyone to ever know what a stupid, naïve, oblivious little girl I was. How did I not see it coming? What did he do or say to make me think he actually wanted me? That we were going to be a family and live happily ever after?

I tear the sheet off, kick it away, and peel the cami that reeks of him over my head. Kennedy takes off her T-shirt and tosses it to me. She’s got her usual black sports bra on underneath.

“What did you tell Una?” I ask.

I know Kennedy covered for me.

“I said you went to Rowan’s cabin, that she wanted you to do her hair.” Kennedy shrugs. It’s not a good story, but I couldn’t have done any better.