Claiming His Fate (12 page)

“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted on a whisper. “She walked away from me.”

“No, she asked you for time. That's not the same thing.” Pup sighed and leaned in so we could keep our conversation relatively quiet. “I understand how things were done in the past and have the utmost respect for the traditions, but life is different now. Women are different. They don't want to be dragged about by the hair, and they don’t need a man to come riding up on a white horse to rescue them. They want to choose the path their life follows. Charlotte is an intelligent woman who worked hard for a degree she doesn't get to use. That has to sting a bit. Plus she's independent and resourceful. Becoming your little mated beck-and-call girl would never be enough for her. But if you took the time to get to know her, learn her wants and her needs, and give her the chance to choose the direction of her life, she'd probably come around.”

I huffed and squashed the tiny flare of hope his words sparked. “Probably?”

“Well, I mean, women are known to change their minds. But my guess is she'd follow you anywhere if you only let her lead.”

I shook my head. “That doesn't make sense.”

“Sure it does.” He lifted his beer to his lips and smiled. “To a woman.”

His words ate at me through the rest of the meeting. As the moon rose and the rest of the shifters moved on to other areas of the Fields to relax with their brethren, I stayed on my barstool in the meeting hall and mulled over Pup’s advice. 

“You look like a man with a lot on his mind.” Blaze pulled up the barstool across from me and sat down. The fact I hadn’t heard him approach spoke to how deep in my thoughts I’d been. 

With a sigh, I shrugged. “I guess I kind of am.”

We sat in silence for several minutes. My mind jumped from Charlotte to my club and back again, running the gamut from the good to the bad. Each side pushed for my full attention. I was about to throw my beer bottle across the room when Blaze’s voice stopped me.

“Tell me about your mate.” 

His words weren’t a question or an option. And so I told him. Everything. Meeting Charlotte, the mistakes at the club, the fight at the hotel room. For the first time, I laid every detail about the day I’d found my mate out on the table. And when I was done, when my word vomit ended and I looked into Blaze’s eyes, I knew I was in trouble.

“You realize you have a major problem with your wolf.” 

I sat back and furrowed my brow as I thought over Blaze’s words. Out of everything the man could’ve said I had a problem with, my wolf was not what I’d expected.

“Well, no. I mean, he’s been a bit quiet, but—”

“Your wolf is meant to be a part of you, an extension of your soul. Seeing him as a force you must do daily battle with is not normal. You can never have peace if you choose to fight him every step of your journey together.”

My heart skipped a beat. Something not normal with my wolf? What turned shifters into nomads and man-eaters? Would I one day go from the hunter to the hunted? The thought of my own brothers chasing me down and destroying me to keep me from putting the breed in danger sickened me.

I licked my suddenly-dry lips and asked the one question I couldn’t bear to leave unanswered.

“Does this mean I need to be destroyed, sir?”

Blaze watched me with those intense blue eyes, waiting until I broke the stare before speaking.

“No. Not yet, at least.” He sighed and rested one elbow on the table. “Do you know what most man-eaters have in common, Rebel?”

I shook my head.

“They are packless—nomads. Wolves who go down that dark path are usually either Borzohn shifters who were kicked out of their family pack at a young age or Anbizen shifters who were not folded in to a pack upon their turning. They are the orphans of our breed, the rejected. It’s one of the reasons The Feral Breed club began. To give our stronger wolves a place to go as available territory grew scarce. Look at your own club. Forty-two wolves, all willful enough to be Alphas of their own pack, but having only a few Midwestern states to roam. Without the club, most of those men and women would be killed off in challenges for pack positions or disputes over hunting grounds. We’ve seen it numerous times through the centuries.”

 My stomach sank. “I was not folded in to a pack when I was turned.”

“No, but you are one of the Feral Breed: a strong and loyal member to our brotherhood. You have found your pack, as dysfunctional as it is. You are much like your Gates, who defies all history of wolf lore and continues whole and healthy past the four-hundred-year mark without his mate. He sees your club as his pack, and therefore remains happy in a family unit. As does Jameson from Four Corners and Throttle from Hollywood—all well past the age when most unmated wolves pass on, and yet they thrive in this pack-like club. Just as you do. And now, you have found your mate, which should bring much happiness to you and your slightly estranged wolf.”

“My wolf found his mate.”

Blaze glared, his wolf side showing in his eyes and making me tense in anticipation of a fight. “You and your wolf are the same being. Unlike what the popular myth claims, becoming an Anbizen does not force the wolf into your soul. It joins the natural wolf instincts with the human instincts buried deep under a millennium of social conditioning. Few survive the transition because they’re not strong enough, and the ones who do tend to be more aggressive than their Borzohn cousins. But that doesn’t mean the wolf isn’t as much a part of the Anbizen soul as it is the Borzohn. The wolf doesn’t exist without you, he doesn’t emote individually, and he doesn’t act autonomously. He is you. Just the baser instincts inside of you.”

“So when my wolf mated…”

“You found your soul mate. No more, no less. Your wolf side happened to be smart enough to realize who she was. If only your human side could stop fighting against the mating pull.” Blaze smirked as he stood. “You live up to your road name, Abraham Lynch. A rebel to the very core, you refuse to allow anyone to claim dominion over you. Even the one woman made to be yours. Perhaps it’s time to stop rebelling, young one.”

He turned to walk away, but I needed one more question answered.

“What do I do about my mate?”

 Blaze paused but didn’t turn around. “You woo her, of course. This is not the age you were whelped in, pup. A woman no longer needs a man in her life to survive. If you want her to accept your suit, you’d better begin acting as if you understand a modern woman. You have interrupted your Klunzad period by being ignorant and dismissive of her needs. Fix it.”

My voice came out softer as I said, “If I fix it, I’ll have to leave the Breed.”

Blaze finally turned, his face drawn and his eyes dark. “No mated shifters ride, not because of some unspoken rule, but because they choose to settle in to a pack. If you and your mate can come to an agreement, you will be welcomed within the Feral Breed. We have no restrictions on who can attempt to gain entry. You’d be wise to remember that, den President Lynch.”

He walked out of the hall with a growl, leaving me in a cloud of confusion. My wolf was me. All those years, I’d seen him as a completely separate being. I’d kept myself isolated from him, sectioning him off into a portion of my mind in an effort to stay human. But I wasn’t human, hadn’t been since my turning. And maybe it was time to embrace that knowledge instead of fighting against it. Maybe it was time to stop fighting and start learning.

Maybe it was time to end the rebellion.

FOURTEEN

Cherry

“Julian! You're going to be late for school if you don't move it.”

“Hold your horses, Char. I'm just tying my shoes.”

Julian clomped down the stairs, his backpack thrown over his arm. Dark glasses covered his hazel eyes and his blond hair hung across his forehead, like all the other boys his age. I’d be so glad when he grew out of the mimic-the-pop-culture-icon phase. With a sigh and a shake of my head, I handed him his lunch and turned him toward the door.

“Text me as soon as you get to Bobby’s, okay? I’ll be home all night, so I can come get you if you don’t want to stay. And don’t get into any trouble.” I bit my lip and tugged on the sleeve of his shirt. “Maybe you boys should stay here this time.”

“Okay, okay. I know the rules. No drinking, no smoking, no girls, and don’t ever walk into a strip club. I’ve got it. This isn’t the first time I’ve spent the night at Bobby’s. We’re just going to play some games and eat shitty pizza. Chill out already.”

I smacked him lightly on the back of the head. “When’d you turn into such a smart-ass?”

“When you quit working at Amnesia and started toiling behind a computer screen all day. You’re seriously cramping my style, sis. I’m not a little kid anymore. I can hang out with my friends without you worrying over every little thing.”

I sighed. He was right. Ever since I’d walked away from Reb and the club, I’d been a major pain in Julian’s ass. Always checking up on him, worrying whenever he left the house without me. I needed to back off, but knowing there were men who shifted into animal forms kind of freaked me out. Not that I’d told Julian that particular little nugget.

“Fine, fine, fine, I’ll back off. Just text me every hour or so, please? I promise not to call if you let me know you’re okay.”

“Fine. I’ll text. But don’t send me any schmoopy messages. I’ve got a rep to protect.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and grabbed his long cane from its storage spot by the closet. He was in full running mode until he opened the front door. The lack of heavy footsteps and the absence of a door slamming behind him told me something was wrong.

“Julian?”

“H-Hello. Is…Charlotte home?”

That voice. The sound of it made my knees weak with want and my breath catch in my throat. I brought my hand up to the wall to stop myself from running past my brother and into the arms of the man on my porch. I hadn’t thought I'd ever hear his voice again, but apparently I'd been wrong. 

With a deep breath and a quick reminder to keep my clothes on this time, I pushed off the wall and padded the rest of the way down the hall. I leaned around the corner and peeked over my brother's shoulder, confirming what I had known the second I’d heard the first stuttered greeting.

Rebel stood on my front porch.

“Uh, Char?” Julian sounded uneasy, not that I blamed him. Men didn’t come to the house looking for me. Plus anything new to Julian made him a bit anxious. He’d had a rough adjustment to losing his sight. 

“It's okay, bud.” I patted his shoulder and reached around him to open the screen door the rest of the way. “Head on out before you miss the bus.”

He paused for a moment, staring blankly at the man in front of him. Before he moved, he pulled his shoulders back and lifted his chin. “Text me if you need me.”

I grinned, ducking my head as the younger boy walked carefully out the door. Rebel slid out of his way, whispering a respectful “thank you” as Julian passed. The handsome wolfman watched my brother amble down the stairs and along the front walkway before he finally spoke. 

“He's a brave one.” Rebel turned his ice-blue eyes on me, making my heart stutter. “Most humans are more nervous the first time they meet one of us.”

I shrugged. “We don't scare easily.”

He nodded once. “Noted.”

I leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and crossed my arms over my chest. The picture of nonchalance. Of course, inside was a different story—my pounding heart, the roar in my ears, the way my stomach knotted at the nearness of him. I was in a full-on fake-it-’til-you-make-it situation, not exactly what I’d had planned for seven in the morning on a random Tuesday. While wearing penguin pajamas.

“So, how can I help you, Rebel?”

He shifted his weight and ran a hand through his hair, a touching show of nervousness in an otherwise imposing figure. He looked good, which pissed me off. I’d spent the past few months alternately throwing things and sobbing into my pillows. But Rebel looked as if he’d just stepped out of a photo shoot. The bastard.

“Well, I was kind of hoping I could try to fix what we had between us.” His voice was quiet, his words soft. But I’d heard that tone before from men who’d made promises they couldn’t keep.

“Try to fix what, exactly?” I purposely looked him up and down, pausing at the fly of his jeans. “Because all we really had was sex. And I'm pretty sure we got that down pat from the get-go.”

He huffed and glared at me. “That's not what I meant.”

“Then please. Explain.” I held my breath and waited him out. I didn’t want to believe him, didn’t want to get my hopes up. But he looked so nervous and he’d made the effort to track me down. Maybe, just maybe, he was ready to apologize for being a dumbass. I still wanted him, still felt the pull to him. I just wanted him to not be so stupid when it came to what a relationship needed. 

He took a deep breath and gave me a serious look. “I'd like to begin anew.”

“Anew?”

“Yes.”

“As in a new what? A new start, a new life, a new mate? Where do you want to begin?”

He stood to his full height and smiled. “Hello. My name is Abraham Lynch, though my friends call me Rebel. I’m new in town, just moved in a few houses over. I was wondering if you’d like to join me for a cup of coffee at the diner down the road.”

My heart skittered in my chest as my entire body grew warm. Oh lord, he’d come back for me. Like a fairy tale princess, my prince had returned. Hopefully smarter and more willing to compromise than before.

Ignoring the meaning behind his words, I pursed my lips and puckered my brow. “You want coffee?”

He frowned for a second, looking suddenly unsure again. “Um, yes?”

“That's it? Just coffee?” I cocked my head and smiled at him.

He took a step forward, pinning me against the doorjamb and giving me the full force of his growl. 

“I want everything. I want you in my life, my bed, on my bike, and wrapped in my arms. I want to tease you and make you squirm. I want you to ride my cock until you scream, and then I want to roll you under me and make you come for hours. I want to taste you, tongue you, and fuck you until we’re both too exhausted to speak.” He brought his hand up and ran a knuckle softly down my cheek. “I want to mark you as my mate knowing you fully understand what that means. I want to wrap you in my arms and tell you how much you mean to me, how much I miss you when you're not with me, and how much I love you.”