Denied Mate by Roxie Ray
Liv
Cal got my coat and his bag from the coat room, and we stepped out into the cold night shoulder to shoulder, basking in each other’s warmth. My pulse thundered, and not just from the adrenaline of rushing out of The Lair. It was the closest I’d been to Cal in years, and my lower back tingled like an echo of his touch.
We wandered up the poorly lit Falcon Avenue and I stole sideways glances at him. It was uncanny. None of this even felt real.
We turned onto Lexington Street, heading into the center for town, and Cal cleared his throat.
“Sorry about…” He nodded back toward the direction we’d just come.
“Oh, don’t be sorry.” I didn’t see any reason to apologize for defending my honor. Frankly, I was rather flattered. I’d had boys fight over me before, but no one had actually thrown a punch for me. “You were a badass in there, Cal.”
He struggled to hold back a pleased grin and nudged my shoulder gently. “Hey. I’ve always been a badass.”
I scoffed a laugh. “You’ve always been a sweetheart. Badass, though? I mean, even I was able to run faster than you. Remember when we’d race on the trail back to your house?”
“Oh, the sprints I’d let you win?” He smirked at the moon overhead.
As if. “Liar. I beat you fair and square!”
“Uh, once or twice maybe...”
I laughed in shock and elbowed his ribs. “Don’t destroy my ego! I’ve built my identity around my ability to outrun you.”
His chuckle faded and he slid his hands deeper into his pockets. Shit. Yeah, I’d been running from him since we were thirteen and he told me he never wanted to see me again. Hanging up when his mother called the house to speak to my parents. Turning the other way when I saw him in the street. Great, way to put your foot in it, Liv.
I wanted to apologize for the way I’d treated him, but how could I ever begin? My mouth felt stuck together with sticky glue and all words lost their meaning. Sorry sounded fake. I was an idiot struck me as too self-pitying. You deserved better was condescending—like I was telling him something he already knew. And my lower back kept distracting me. The warm glow had turned into an itch, and I suspected his touch was the only thing that would relieve it.
The few tall buildings in downtown Bridgehaven came into view, relieving me of the pressure.
I pointed toward the shiniest one, which now seemed to stand out like a monument to ostentatious tastes. “This is me.”
“Yeah.” He nodded.
Duh. Of course, he’d been there before.
Outside the glass doors of my building, I turned to him and met his gaze. There was sadness there, regret, maybe some blame. But burning on top of it was a flash of…lust. Cal looked at me like I was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He dragged his tongue across his thick lower lip and stepped closer to me. My heart stopped. Everything froze. Goosebumps burst across my skin and I braced myself for the electric thrill of him touching me.
My body wanted him so badly, my pussy twitched remembering my dream, and a little throb of pleasure flickered in my belly. But a memory burst across my mind—the image of our fathers on the cliff top together.
I’d all but forgotten I’d wanted to talk to Cal about what had happened, to find out his side of things, and fill in the blanks to get the full story I apparently didn’t know. But in the middle of the night after a bar fight with Stephen? It wasn’t the time.
“I spoke to Ben,” I blurted. “He’s sent some security to look out for your mom.”
He moved back just a little and nodded. “Thanks, Liv. I really appreciate it.”
“It was the least I could do.” My voice came out quiet and sad, and I couldn’t hold his gaze.
After a beat, he cleared his throat and stepped farther back. “It was great seeing you tonight.”
“Yeah. You, too.” I forced a smile and shrugged like it was no big deal we were ending things on an awkward note. “Night, Cal.”
I’d pushed open the heavy building door when I heard him call me back.
“Hey, Liv…”
My heart fluttered in my chest and I gripped the handle tighter as I turned.
“You ever think about what might have happened if my dad never disappeared?” He shoved his hands in his pockets and met my eyes. “You think we’d have been happy?”
I held my breath and tried to drag my gaze away. Once, when we were about eight, a pack elder so old he was practically ancient took one look at our matching Christmas sweaters and declared that we were destined to be mates. Fated. He was probably just trying to get a laugh out of us. He was a sweet man. The blossom of warmth I’d felt the first time our wolves had locked eyes returned with the perusal of fond memories. I had known the moment we shared a look at the ripe old age of thirteen. That old man hadn’t been spinning a tale at all; fate or not, Cal and I were mates. Unfortunately, with the happy thought came the memory of the yelling that followed shortly after. I never want to see you again.
I shook my head. “I think about it sometimes. But what’s done is done.” I’d been rejected once, and reliving it over and over was just torture, and for what? I didn’t have to do that to myself.
He grimaced and stared down, but it was best for both of us to ignore it. This never happened to me. He wasn’t even part of the Bridgehaven pack anymore, so how could an elder have foreseen our so-called fate but fail to mention he’d be excommunicated a few years later? Seemed like bullshit to me.
The look of defeat on his face was almost unbearable.
“Hey. Thanks for everything back there.” I gestured vaguely toward Westend.
“For starting a fight with a moody asshole?” He laughed, a deep baritone which made my insides warm and melty, even better than his chuckle. “Any time, Liv. Seriously, it’d be my pleasure.”
“Careful. I’ll hold you to it.” I stepped up to the front doors and gave him a last smile before I forced myself to hurry inside.
I was still tingling from his touch and reeling from the tension between us when I stepped out of the elevator on my level. It faded when a sharp chill bit at my skin.
My scent was all over the hallway, and so was Maren’s, in a way it shouldn’t have been. Maren had said she was going home with someone, didn’t she? I crept down the hall and stopped short. The apartment door was wide open.
My heart stammered. I quietly slipped my shoes off and crept forward, ears on high alert, easing toward my home like I was James Bond. Or, more like Shaggy and Scooby, tiptoeing and peering around with my heart slamming high in my chest. I strained my ears, trying to listen for something. Anything. I inched myself into my apartment like I was the one breaking in. Something was definitely off. I sniffed again and froze. Someone was in there, and it wasn’t Maren. They smelled strange, though. I couldn’t pin it. Eerie stillness enclosed me like the calm before a storm or a moment of focus before an animal attacked.
I tensed. My wolf primed itself to shift and pounce.
But nothing happened. I started to exhale slowly, leaning forward to—
I was tackled sideways and smacked the floor, barely inches from hitting my head on the kitchen counter. Something scraped over my arm. I screamed and kicked, my heels met flesh, and someone groaned. I scrambled back into the kitchen, but not fast enough—they were back on top of me in an instant, and pinned me down. Panicked, I gnashed my teeth and tried to shift—
Nothing happened. Not a thing. I scrambled, momentarily stunned; the cut on my arm hadn’t felt that deep, but it burned. It dawned on me after a moment. Shit. Silver.
They flipped me over into a chokehold and dragged me along the floor as I scratched at their arm and tried to feed off my fear so I could shift. It was no use—they weren’t letting go, and I couldn’t seem to call my wolf. It was as if she’d disappeared entirely. I’d never felt her absence so keenly since I’d first shifted. I was fucking terrified.
This was the end of Olivia Burns. I’d had some good moments. But fuck, I wished I’d worn the hot pink dress with the slit up the side for prom instead of the silver one that made me look like I was wearing duct tape. I could have stopped watching Grey’s Anatomy a little earlier and put those wasted hours to use finding a career of my own. I would have liked to have lost my virginity sooner, enjoyed sex a little more, been clearer about what I liked and didn’t like. It would have been nice to actually date a nice boy instead of the hot-but-shitty type time and time again. Hell, I’d never even had one of those toe-curling, God-witnessing orgasms I’d read about yet.
The attacker grabbed the cast iron skillet I never used—another regret—and a bolt of pure adrenaline shot through me. Somehow, I wrenched the arm away from my throat, threw an elbow back against a thick windpipe, and freed myself. They tumbled back against the counter, regrettably right in front of the knife block I wanted to take a weapon from. Instead, I grabbed what I could. Spatula. Whisk. Flimsy plastic chopping board. They all bounced off the attacker’s cast iron shield. Out of ammo, I dashed sideways, but they were right there, blocking my path. I dodged left, faked them out, and made to run but they were quick. Quick and fucking smart.
They snapped their hand around my neck, yanked me off the floor, and shook me like a doll. I tried to kick, but my legs were weak. I tried to scream but it came out choked. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t fucking breathe. I tried to find eyes under their black hood, but my vision pricked with red and white spots. Everything was going black. They pinned me against a wall, raised the cast iron pan high. I was going to die. They were going to kill me—
Fuck, if they were going to kill me, then I was going to take my pound of flesh. Adrenaline became a desperate sort of rage and I clawed at the hands pressing into my windpipe. I lashed out, kicking again. Heels weren’t exactly prime for anything but looking good, but I connected with a knee and the person wobbled. They loosened their grip for a moment, and I doubled my efforts, writhing and squirming and raking my nails over their hands. Their wrists. Anything I could reach.
A flash of brown fur shot into my spotty vision, and I landed on the floor with a painful thud. I gasped, desperate for a sip of air. Barking, snarling, and gnashing broke through the roar of white noise in my ears, and as my vision cleared, I made out a muscular wolf, prowling between me and the attacker.
My heart skipped and I choked again. I’d recognize the streak of white fur down his dark side anywhere. It was Cal.
As though reading my mind, he spun around to face me and sniffed, checking my wounds. Our eyes met and a spark shot between us. Some of my panic fell away, leaving relief and warmth. Finally, my wolf leaped right to the surface and whined to get loose, but there were more pressing issues than shifting and running through the fields with our mate. I shook my head. Former best friend. It was easier to think of him like that. The wound on my arm still burned. I inhaled sharply, realizing we’d lost sight of the person.
Cal spun around to keep his eyes on the threat.
...But the threat was gone. The apartment was empty. My cast iron pan lay where the attacker had been. Cal huffed in frustration and dashed out of the door to check the hallway while I slumped my head back and caught my breath.
What the fuck had just happened? My throat hurt as I swallowed, and I wished for a glass of water. I started to get up when a long shadow cast over me from the doorway. I shot my head around, expecting to see the maniac coming back for me, but it was Cal.
Human form. Gripping the doorjamb like he could tear it from the wall, white knuckles and rage-filled eyes. But as soon as our eyes met, the tension dropped, and he hurried to my side.
I averted my eyes quickly, glancing literally anywhere else.
“He got away.” His voice ripped with anger, but there was hesitation in there, too. “Liv? You okay?”
Panic smashed up against the relief I felt from a moment before. Cal was no longer lanky; he was filled out, warm, and strong. Exactly how I’d imagined him being. But being in his space like this, that hadn’t changed, either. I felt safe. Cared for. And with that came the sting of the rejection, because he would never be mine. Not really. He had owed me one, after all.
“I’m okay, I think.” I was hoarse and swallowed, this time only a little pain cutting through me.
I didn’t mind him checking on me, though. Every tender touch of his fingertips felt like it healed my bruises. Maybe it did, because when he sat back on his heels, I felt totally fine.
A thick silence fell between us. The light from the hallway lit half of his face, and I couldn’t stop staring at how fucking handsome he’d become. Movie star looks. Close-cut hair on the sides with curls flopping over one side of his forehead. Skin dark and speckled with stubble along his thick jaw. I wanted to kiss him and the flash in his eyes told me he wanted to do the same. I looked away again.
“Now I really owe you.” I managed a light laugh, but quickly fell quiet again.
Cal gently tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “You’re debt-free, as far as I’m concerned.”
I opened my mouth, ready to make the apology I desperately needed to. But he suddenly stood and made a beeline to the kitchen.
“You got an ice pack?” He threw open the freezer and raised his eyebrows at the abundant mess of convenience foods crammed in there.
I grimaced in embarrassment and let my head fall back against the wall. “You don’t have to stay.” Especially naked. Had he not noticed he was as naked as the day he was born?
Cal grunted, wrapped a frozen burrito in a tolerably clean dish towel, and knelt in front of me.
“Liv.” He gently pressed the makeshift ice pack against the side of my neck, sending a burst of goosebumps across my collarbone, and stared at me seriously. “I’m not leaving until you kick me out.”
I scoffed but craned my neck so he could press the first aid burrito closer to the most bruised parts. Tingles burst through the pain where his fingers grazed my jaw. “I’m not good at telling people when they need to leave.”
“Good. You’ve got someone trying to kill you, a whole lot of mess to clean up, and I think…” He looked deeply into my eyes and nodded. “A slight concussion. It’d be a good idea to let me stay and keep an eye on you, unless you want to go to the hospital?”
I grumbled, but my head was slowly turning into a cloud. An argument against letting the gorgeous guy of my literal dreams stay in my apartment was evading me. The fact that I could surreptitiously eye his strapping arms wasn’t doing much to dig up that missing argument, either.
Cal took my hand and pressed it to the ice pack, and then suddenly scooped me up off the floor and into his arms. I gasped and almost fumbled the burrito, but he held me tight and carried me over to the couch where he set me down gently, like I was the most precious thing he’d ever held.
