Chapter 3 The Fated Bond #2
Lo rolls her eyes, stepping in closer and dropping her voice low. “How are you feeling about all of this?” she asks, resting her hand on my arm and blinking up at me with concern. “Be honest.”
“Honestly?” I muse, pausing just to mess with her.
The truth is, there’s nothing for me to even consider.
I found my mate, and she’s perfect. My pulse skips as I glance over at Chey, the corner of my mouth lifting in a smirk when I turn back to my sister.
“She’s hot as fuck, and she’s a total badass. What more could I want?”
Lo heaves a relieved sigh and throws her arms around my neck, squeezing me tight.
I spill some of my drink on her shirt as I hug her back, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
“Congratulations, little bro,” she whispers as she releases me from her embrace, glancing toward Chey and Javi.
Her lips spread into a grin as she nudges me in encouragement. “Now go tell her that.”
I roll my eyes, elbowing her back with a smile before starting across the lawn toward my mate. Javi’s still whispering in her ear, watching me intently as I make my way over to them.
Cheyenne’s gaze darts around the lawn nervously, and I belatedly realize that all eyes are on us. My pack knows I’ve found my mate, and now the two of us are a spectacle, everyone watching our interaction intently. From the looks of things, it doesn’t appear that Chey is enjoying all the attention.
“Do you wanna go somewhere quieter to talk?” I ask as I approach, ignoring the crowd of curious onlookers. “My parents aren’t back yet, but we might wanna clear out before they show up and become aggressively congratulatory.”
Chey nods quickly, downing the rest of her drink. “Can I get a refill on the way?” she asks, the ice in her glass clinking as she lifts it in indication.
“Of course,” I grin.
I beckon her with a flick of my head and she peels away from Javi, my pulse thrumming harder as she starts toward me.
I was already attracted to Chey; more than I have been to any other she-wolf.
Now, it’s an all-consuming need to be close to her.
To protect her. To touch her and hold her and make her mine.
She comes up alongside me and I pivot to join her in walking toward the packhouse, the two of us easily falling into step with one another.
I’ve never been awkward or nervous around beautiful women before, but I’m suddenly having trouble forming a coherent thought, at a complete loss for words to fill the silence between us.
I’m still struggling for something to say as I lead her into the packhouse kitchen, opening the fridge and frowning when I look inside.
“Shit, we don’t have any more cranberry,” I grumble, wishing I’d thought ahead and ordered some.
“Just the vodka’s fine,” she quips.
I raise a brow as I turn to look at her, assuming she’s joking. Her deadpan stare tells me she isn’t, so I nudge the fridge closed and snatch the vodka bottle off the counter with a shrug, leading her out of the kitchen and down the hall.
“Let’s go up to my room,” I murmur, glancing back at Chey as we reach the base of the stairs.
She stops in her tracks, amber eyes popping wide. “Uhhh…”
“Hey, I’m not angling to try anything,” I chuckle as I swivel to face her, holding up my hands in surrender. “I just… with the whole pack hanging around, I figured that’s the best place for us to get some peace and quiet.”
Cheyenne visibly recoils at that suggestion, retreating a step and shaking her head. “Sorry, I just…”
“No, it’s okay,” I rush out in an attempt to smooth things over. “I didn’t… I don’t… shit, I’m screwing this up already, aren’t I?” I heave a sigh, scrubbing a hand over my face as I try to collect my thoughts.
Why the fuck is it so hard to even think around her?
“I know where we can go,” I say as an idea strikes me, beckoning her with a wave and starting toward the front door.
She hesitates for a beat before following, but she does, so I take that as a win. Even more so when I bring her across the street to my parents’ house and gesture to the wicker chairs on the front porch, earning a tight-lipped smile of approval.
I reach for her glass as I take a seat, Chey sinking down into the one beside me as I uncap the vodka bottle and tip in a healthy pour.
“Sorry about my pack,” I drawl as I hand it over to her. “They’re just really excited to have a Luna.”
She throws back the vodka, downing it in two seconds flat. Then she wipes her mouth off on a wrist, resting the glass on her knee as she stares off into the distance. “Aren’t you going to ask?”
“Ask what?”
“About this,” she sighs, flipping her hair back and pulling at the collar of her t-shirt to expose the mate mark on her skin.
“I figured you’d tell me if you wanted me to know,” I shrug.
She snaps her head in my direction, her lips turning down in a frown. “You don’t have to do that.”
My brow furrows. “Do what?”
“This whole nice guy thing,” she sighs, waving a hand. “You can drop the act now that we’re away from prying eyes.”
“What act?” I scoff.
Chey rolls her eyes, reaching over to set her glass on the little side table between us. “Please. You can’t honestly tell me you’re okay with being fated to someone who’s already marked.”
“I told you before, that doesn’t matter to me,” I insist, pinning her with an unyielding stare as I reach for her hand. “Fate put us together for a reason, and I’m interested in exploring that if you are.”
She yanks her hand away before I can make contact. “I don’t like being touched.”
My eyes widen as I retract my arm. “Sorry, I…”
“I don’t like crowds, or strangers, or rooms with only one exit,” Cheyenne interrupts, her amber eyes locking with mine.
“I drink way more than I should, to the point where I black out and lose things. I spent half an hour searching for a shoe today. I don’t trust men, especially Alphas, and this mark…
” she tugs at her collar again, exposing the scar.
“It wasn’t my choice. My best friend killed the man who forced it on me, and when I found out his mom was behind it, I slit her throat with a smile.
” She drops her hands to her lap, shaking her head as she stares down at them.
“I’ve got a whole lot of damage, Iver. Way more than a man in your position wants to deal with. ”
If I wasn’t already at a loss for words, I am now. I just stare at her with my mouth hanging open, my mind tripping it over itself to find the words to respond.
“So,” Chey huffs, her eyes meeting mine as she lifts her chin. “You still wanna get to know me, or should we both just cut our losses and move on from this?”
“Yeah, I do,” I blurt, finally able to get words out.
She flinches back like she’s surprised by my reply. “Well, then you’re obviously a crazy person.”
“Crazy for you,” I say, wincing at how fucking cheesy that sounds.
Chey snorts a laugh, shaking her head incredulously. “Are you for real right now? You don’t even know me.”
“I’ve been wanting to get to know you since the first time I saw you,” I point out, staring into her eyes earnestly. “I’ve been trying, but you turned me down when I tried to shoot my shot, remember?”
She sinks her teeth into her lower lip, darting her gaze away. “Vaguely.”
“Nothing you say could scare me away,” I state confidently. “In fact, now I feel like I do know a little bit more about you, and I only like you more.”
Her lashes flutter as she blinks back at me. I suppose it’s her turn to be at a loss for words.
“I guess it’s only fair that I tell you something about me,” I say, darting her a smile as I drag a hand through my hair. “So, when my sister found her fated mate, I was jealous. Like, really fucking jealous.”
She squints at me as if she’s trying to gauge the truth in my confession.
“I’ve always wanted something like my parents have,” I add.
“The problem is, when you’re Alpha, you never know whether people actually like you or just your pack rank.
I play the field and act like I don’t care, but every full moon since I turned eighteen, I’ve gone out hoping fate would step in and point me to my mate.
” My lips curve in a smile. “I finally found you, Chey. You’re my mate, and there’s nothing you could say that would change my mind about wanting this.
I trust fate, and you’re the one who fate chose for me. I’m so fucking glad it’s you.”
Cheyenne abruptly pushes up from her chair, sweeping her hair back as she pivots to face me. “You can come by my cabin tomorrow,” she says, the hint of a smile on her lips. “Number eleven.”
I dip my chin in a nod. “I’ll be there.”
There’s no denying her smile this time, those plush lips curving up as a blush rises to her cheeks.
She tries to hide it by turning and walking away, but that sly little smile is now firmly etched in my memory.
It may be the first genuine one I’ve seen on her face, and I already want to see it again.
The bond between us tugs in my chest as she retreats, and I throw up a thank you to fate for pulling the assist in changing her no into a yes.