“I panicked, okay? Okay? I didn’t know what to say, and I definitely didn’t want to be paired up with fuckingSeraphina. So I told them you and I were together. That I’d be mating with you.”
My stomach dropped so fast it felt like an elevator cable snapped. “Mating with me? The fuck does that mean?”
I didn’t yell. Not exactly. But the words came out so sharp and loud that Roman flinched before turning to face me. He took a couple steps back, hands raised slightly like he expected me to throw something. Maybe I should have.
“Let me back up. Due to some magical shit that’s gone haywire within my pack, Lucien has initiated a mating mandate. All eligible wolves over the age of twenty-one have to find and bond with a mate. Supposedly, that will help stabilize the pack’s magic. I freaked out and said you and I were a couple. Youdon’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he said quickly, “but you’d sure as hell be helping me out if you’d act like we’re together until I can figure out what the fuck to do.”
I crossed my arms. “And what doesactmean?”
He sighed and dragged a hand through his messy hair, making it worse and somehow hotter. “I really haven’t had time to think this through. Nothing changes here. The apartment’s still neutral territory. But outside? At events, pack meetings, public spaces, we’d have to look like a… couple. Hold hands. Smile. Maybe… you know. Some lightcouple-ystuff.”
“Likewhat, Roman?” I snapped. “Because I don’t know the first thing about shifters, and now you want me to hang out with a whole fucking pack? I don’t know how to act around shifters.”
His brows lifted.
“You know what I mean.”
He let out a nervous laugh. “You don’t need to act. Just be yourself. Except, uh… pretend you like me.”
Of all the things I thought would happen when I moved into this apartment, fake mating with my wolf shifter roommate wasn’t even on the list.
But as the words settled, another thought crept in.
If I was “with” someone—someone confident and attractive—maybe that voice in my head that kept telling me I wasn’t enough for Eric would finally shut up. Maybe when he inevitably cyber-stalked me again, he’d see a version of me he wouldn’t recognize. Someone confident. Someone wanted. Chosen.
I could pretend. I’d done it before.
Plus, it might be kind of convenient. No random guys trying to hit on me when I went out. No more questions about whether I was okay post-breakup. And Roman? He was hot. Inconveniently hot. If I had to fake-date someone, at least it was someone with excellent arms and a body that looked like it could bench-press my trauma.
I inhaled slowly. “Okay.”
Roman blinked. “Okay?”
“I’ll do it. I’ll pretend. But I want a clause.”
“Fuck yes. I love clauses. Shoot.”
“I can opt out at any time. If I change my mind or get uncomfortable or this whole thing gets weird, I can walk away. No questions. No guilt.”
Roman’s eyes softened for the first time since Seraphina walked in. “Deal.”
He stepped closer and held out his hand.
I took it. It was big. Warm. Solid. I triedreallyhard not to think about the other parts of him that I know are also big and warm and?—
Nope. Not going there.
We shook.
“Thank you. You’re really saving my ass here, Mags.”
I nodded once, but my mind was still reeling. Betrothed. Pack meetings. Public affection.
Roman fucking Velasquez.
What thehellhad I just agreed to?
Chapter 5
