“Did you follow me?” she asks when I join her in the sitting room. Her voice is calm and steady, but somehow not in a good way. It’s as though she has no fight left.
“Yes,” I admit, lingering in the doorway, afraid that I’ll spook her if I get too close.
“Why? Why go to so much effort? Why the duplicity? Just why?”
“Because you are my fated mate.”
“What does that even mean?” she snaps, her eyes turning yellow and boring into me. I hate her anger—despise that it’s directed at me—but damn if I didn’t need the confirmation that it’s not in my head. That I hadn’t made up the color shift in her eyes.
“The tingles when our skin connects, the way my scent makes your mouth water, the magnetic pull that tugs at you at all times, begging you to be near me… It’s Fate. We’re meant to be.”
She looks at me as if she wants to deny it, but she can’t. Her eyes well with tears, though they don’t spill over.
“There’s so much more that I need to tell you. But not tonight. You’re dead on your feet. Go to sleep, Maya. I’ll look after the dogs.”
“I don’t want you to stay here,” she argues, folding her arms and glaring at me. “I haven’t even begun processing all of this, but I know I can’t be around you right now.”
“Okay,” I agree, because I can’t push her more. I can’t push her past what she’s willing to give me. “Can I look after the dogs? Let you focus on your family and take this one thing off your plate?”
She nods before turning and traipsing up the stairs. Her whole body looks as if it’s weighed down. Like the thought of belonging to me is eating her alive. This isn’t how it’s meant to be. We should have both felt the pull and been mated and claimed within hours. Not struggling with this drawn-out subterfuge. Fuck.
I don’t know how I should have done it. I tried to be upfront with her that first day in her office, and she shot me down. I wanted to do it the right way, but I couldn’t just let her go. Not when she is literally everything to me.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ryan
It's been a little over a week, and I’ve barely seen Maya. It’s been horrible. She hasn’t let me come to the hospital with her, and she won’t allow me to continue as her patient anymore. But she does let me take the dogs out, cook for her, and keep on top of the housework and laundry.
She eats the meals I leave out for her, so at least I know she’s eating well, and it’s keeping my wolf just about sane to know I’m providing for her. She hasn’t asked where I’m sleeping, so I haven’t had to lie about climbing into her bed every night once she passes out from exhaustion. As soon as I’m close to her, she cuddles into me, and everything feels like it will be okay.
But then the morning comes, and I leave before she wakes—coffee made and breakfast ready. She eats and is gone by the time I’m back from walking the dogs.
I miss her so much it hurts. Both my wolf and I have been desperate to be in her presence. But I’m afraid to be around Maya until I can talk to her, and she’s not ready for that. I can’t lie to her again. I’m lucky she’s even allowing me to be in her space at all. And I don’t want to fuck things up any more than I already have.
But her dad is finally doing better. He’s well enough that she’s able to think straight, and she left me a note to say she’s ready to speak to me. Tonight. I have put the dogs in a kennel for the weekend and convinced Maya to go for a drive with me so that I can tell her the full truth.
I could see her resistance when I suggested it, but curiosity won out.
“Where are we going?” Maya asks, fidgeting in her seat. Anxiety rolls off her in waves. She must hate not knowing. But at this point, it’s been weeks, and she hasn’t shifted once. And yet her eyes flash yellow, and she doesn’t smell human. There’s only one reason I can imagine that would explain it.
She’s part-shifter, but she doesn’t have an animal.
Doc told me about a couple of unranked wolves in the pack who had mated with humans years ago. The resulting children were neither shifters nor fully human. They had the additional strength and healing abilities of shifters but weren’t capable of shifting or hearing an animal. It hasn’t happened in a long time; no one I’ve ever met. Over the years, they left when it became clear the children would not be able to shift rather than have them grow up surrounded by what they could never be.
It’s the only plausible explanation.
And if she isn’t a shifter, then words aren’t enough. I need to show her the truth. I need her to understand that the mate bond is real.
“I’m bringing you home,” I tell her. “To my pack.”
“Your what? None of this makes sense, Ryan. I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t even know why I agreed to get in the car with you.” She lets out a heavy sigh, massaging her temples with two fingers.
“You will,” I say, stroking my hand up and down her thigh, hoping my touch still offers her some semblance of solace. She doesn’t push me away, and my heart pounds harder.
I don’t go through border patrol. Instead, I mindlink Sofia as soon as I get close enough to let her know where I’m bringing Maya and that I don’t want to be disturbed. I drive off road until I come to a clearing where I know we’ll be alone.
“You’re not taking me out here to kill me, are you?” Maya asks when I park the car and turn to face her.
