Letting out a low, slow breath, Elias stared out the window as he chewed on the question, rubbing his chin. “I’ll talk to her,” he said. “Once she realizes that it’s only the ceremony, she’ll probably have an easier time accepting it.”
I nodded, schooling my features as a dozen emotions ran through me at once: guilt, frustration, and something uncomfortably close to excitement. “It’s going to be on paper,” I said. “Trust me, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”
“I know,” Elias said. “Which is the reason I’m not fighting this tooth and nail. Even if there’s nothing romantic there, I know that you’ll take good care of her. You won’t hurt her.”
“Never,” I agreed.
Even as I said it, deep down, in a part of me I wouldn’t acknowledge, I wondered if I would be able to keep that promise.
Chapter 3 - Rachel
“Where’s the lamb?” Mom asked when she walked into the kitchen.
My knife chopped into a carrot. “I decided I wasn’t in the mood, so I got things for a beef stew.”
Mom huffed. “I thought you were making lamb.”
“You like this stew,” I said, moving to an onion. “And just because you tell me you have a hankering for lamb before I run out the door to work doesn’t mean I’m going to make it. Maybe if you had asked me directly instead of being passive-aggressive, I might have gotten some.”
Mom ignored the jab, moving so she could peer over my shoulder to judge my chopping technique. “You should talk to Sam about that at some point,” Mom said. “Maybe he likes lamb.”
I gritted my teeth as I stared down at the cutting board. “Why would I need to talk to him about anything?” I asked. “And why does it matter if he likes lamb?”
With a dramatic sigh, Mom came to stand next to me, leaning against the counter so I couldn’t pretend I didn’t see her. “Considering he’s going to be your mate, he should have a say in these things. That’s how it works. And if he likes lamb, then you should learn how to cook it. That’s part of being a good mate.”
I could hear the glee in her voice, but it wasn’t for me. It was for her. Her worthless daughter was suddenly slated for a coveted mate. All of a sudden, she could brag about it to whoever would listen. My personal feelings had nothing to do with any of it.
I loved my mother, I really did. But she could be incredibly self-centered at times. This moment was one of them.
I placed the knife down on the counter and turned to face her, turning my features into a mask even as I bristled inside. It was bad enough that Mom’s ideas of a mated pair were about as sexist and patriarchal as it was possible to be; she was treating it like it was a done deal.
“I still haven’t decided if I’m going to agree to the match,” I said.
“Why wouldn’t you?” she demanded, her eyes flashing.
I swallowed, trying to find the right words. “I want this to be my decision,” I finally said. “And I don’t see Sam that way.” It was bad enough that I had seen him that way once before, and he’d rejected me. I didn’t want to live with the constant reminder of that horrible day.
“Well, some of us take our duties to the pack seriously instead of ignoring them.” Mom sniffed.
My eyes fluttered shut as I forced my fingers not to pinch the bridge of my nose in exasperation. “Mom, can’t you just leave it for an hour?”
“I’m just saying, if the Oracle says you’re supposed to mate someone, let alone the pack beta, I don’t see why you’re being so obstinate,” Mom said. “Sam is a far better mate than I would have expected you to find. And you don’t exactly see men beating down the door for you.”
“Thanks,” I growled.
Mom took a deep breath and placed the rag on the edge of the sink, finally turning to face me again. “I’m sorry, honey,” she said. It didn’t sound particularly genuine. “I’m just worried for you.”
“No, you’re worried for your reputation,” I fired back.
Mom tutted. “Well, it hasn’t exactly been easy for your father or me when he was alive. Can you imagine being an alpha whose own daughter can’t shift?”
“He reminded me of it often enough,” I said through clenched teeth. “Besides, Elias was strong enough for both of us. Your reputation will be fine.”
“And what about you? Do you want to be a spinster?”
It would be better than having Sam as a mate, I thought. I didn’t answer. Instead, I took the onion and carrot on the cutting board and slid them into the pot.
“I’m happy with my life,” I said, tossing the board and knife into the sink, turning just in time to see my mother’s pursed lips and exasperated expression.
