How Not to Hate Your True Mate

Chapter 1

Josh

My paws pound against the earth. The muted browns and greens of the forest blur together. Branches snap and wind whips past my face as I sprint through the trees.

Normally, I don’t mind stopping to smell the wildflowers or getting lost in the primal beauty of the forest.

But there’s no time to get distracted.

Can’t slow down now. Gotta hurry.

Weaving between the thick trunks of towering oak trees, my paws dig into the soft ground while picking up speed, muscles rippling beneath sandy blond fur.

Why rush through the forest like my tail is on fire? Am I on an important mission? Or racing to the assistance of a pack member in distress? Tracking elusive prey?

Nope. Just late for work. I lost track of time at The Clover Pack’s cookout and bonfire.

Once I hit the tree line and find the main road, I keep running. The sun sinks lower past the mountain range in the distance, creating a golden glow over everything the light touches.

Nobody will freak out over seeing a wolf bolt out of the forest. Everyone in the hidden sanctuary of Concordia has some connection to the supernatural world. Moving here at sixteen changed everything. No more hiding in the human world.

I love Concordia and the Clover Pack.

It’s myself that I’m still trying to figure out.

Crossing into the city, I shift back into my human form fully dressed thanks to the charm on my keychain. Ah, the perks of living in a magical city.

I catch a glimpse of myself in a shop window, the same hazel eyes and sandy blond hair that belongs to my wolf. In either form, I remain relatively small and slender, easily blending into the bustling crowd on the street.

Colorful buildings full of unique magical wares line up along the paved streets, run by the multiple covens who founded Concordia and continue to shield us from the human world.

“Look out!”

“Duck!”

A group of young witches zip by on broomsticks and I duck as they fly overhead. Their laughter rings out when they soar past, leaving trails of sparkling light in their wake. I grin at their antics.

The flashy red sports car speeding toward me at the intersection, however, is way less amusing.

The engine roars like a beast as the car takes the corner too fast, cutting me off. I leap back to the curb, all too familiar with the obnoxious vehicle and the more obnoxious man driving it.

Does Bane Blackwood think he’s above the laws of the road and plan to breeze through the red light? Arrogant asshole.

But he brakes hard at the last second, car tires screeching. The convertible rests just over the edge of where pedestrians can cross.

“Watch out!” I shout after nearly becoming roadkill. “You could have killed me!”

“Were we that close?” murmurs his companion in the passenger seat, voice carrying thanks to the top down in the red convertible.

“Not even.” Bane smirks, knowing I hear every word. “Besides, that guy is a wolf. He has fast reflexes. Or he’s supposed to.”

The Iron Pack lives on the other end of the city. As the Alpha’s son, Bane’s the epitome of arrogance, arrogance, and oh yeah, more arrogance.

The car idles in the road, waiting for the light to turn green. After already drawing enough attention to myself, I stay put instead of crossing in front of their vehicle. What if I walk by and Bane’s foot slips off the brake ‘accidentally?’ Not very likely but why give him a free shot?

Staying on the curb means I’m stuck staring at the side of Bane’s profile. His unfairly gorgeous profile.

Bane towers over everyone, a testament to his super tall, super jacked lineage of the finest specimens werewolfkind offers.

Because life is unfair sometimes, he’s also effortlessly stunning.

His winning smile, styled chestnut hair, and captivating golden eyes ensnare both men and women alike—something I’ve unfortunately witnessed more than once.

He leans over and speaks to his date. “You’re going to love the restaurant. It’s one of the most exclusive spots in Concordia.”

The date, an attractive young man with jet-black hair, practically swoons at Blackwood’s words. Does this guy think he’s special? He’s dead wrong. Bane is a master at first dates but rarely seeks out a second.

The jerk makes a show of checking his watch. “We’re running a little late.”

“Oh no,” says the date. “Do you think we’ll get there in time?”

“It’s fine. They’ll hold the table for me.”

What a careless ass, wasting other people’s time and expecting the world to cater to him. The date hears it differently, that Bane’s special.

I guess he is. Only certain wolves inherit alpha genetics. Not every wolf is Bane Blackwood. Driving around in a sleek sports car, always wearing that brown leather bomber jacket that cannot possibly be authentic.

He turns heads. Even mine whenever he zooms by with someone pretty on his arm that neither of us will ever see again. We aren’t acquaintances or even true enemies, no matter how much I loathe him. The distance between us at the crosswalk might be the closest we’ve ever been.

“Bane. Hey, the light’s green.”

The date’s voice pulls me out of daydreaming. Bane’s staring at me, waiting for me to notice. Smirking his most asshole smirk, the one that burrows under my skin every time, broadcasting ‘I’m better than you and I know it’ loud and clear.

The engine revs and the car speeds away, leaving me behind.

Why does everything come so easily to Bane Blackwood? Why does he bother me so much? And why… why…

“Why am I standing here?” I ask out loud.

Right, work. Gotta hurry. Oops. Totally forgot. I pick up the pace and rush down the street.

Bane’s comfortable in his own skin. He belongs. Meanwhile, I’m rushing to my crappy part-time job. Twenty-two years old with no purpose or direction.

The Clover Pack rocks. But those wolves have lived here their whole lives and share so much history. I’m the outsider who joined four years ago when my mom married a pack werewolf.

And magic flows through the streets of Concordia, enchanting and amazing. A perfect home for witches. Too bad my mother’s magic skipped a generation.

Will I find my place here when finding the one? I sure hope so. The man I belong with, my true mate. Maybe everything will finally click into place and I’ll never have to wonder where I belong again.

Until then, my plan involves avoiding assholes like Bane and going to work on time.