Page 11 of Choosing the Rejected Mate

“None of your business.”

“You’re right.”

That surprises her.I see it in the tiny shift of her expression.The way she expected me to push and I don’t.I hate that she expected it.I hate whoever taught her to expect it.

I keep my voice low.“It isn’t my business unless you make it my business.”

Her fingers curl around the edge of the counter.“And if I never do?”

“Then I never ask again.”

Her breath catches.The bond hums between us, no longer a roar but a quiet, aching thing.

She looks away first.“I had a mate,” she says softly.

I go still, but my wolf does not.He surges forward, teeth bared, rage flooding my blood so fast my claws prick beneath my fingernails.I force them back, barely.

Holly notices anyway.Her smile is small and humorless.“There he is.”

“Who?”

“The wolf who thinks the answer to every problem is dominance and violence.”

“He has some good ideas,” I say.

“He really doesn’t,” she counters.

“What did he do?”My voice is rougher now.

She shakes her head.“No.”

One word.Clear and final.And I shut my mouth.

Her gaze comes back to mine slowly, searching.Testing.“That’s it?You’re not going to demand the whole sad story?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you said no.”

Something fragile moves through her expression.Not trust, not yet.But maybe the smallest beginning of it.My chest tightens at the thought alone.

She looks down at the mixer between us, safer than looking at me.“He denied me.”

My control cracks.The words are quiet, but they hit with the force of a blade between my ribs.

Denied.

Not rejected after some mutual understanding.Not a bond that faded or failed.Denied.A wolf looked at this woman, felt the same sacred pull currently burning through my entire body, and chose to wound her with it.

My vision sharpens, and the room narrows.My wolf throws himself against my skin, snarling so hard my bones ache.

Holly’s head snaps up.“Don’t.”I freeze.Her voice is fierce now.Her eyes flash wolf-bright, and for the first time since I walked in here, I see not just the wound, but the survivor guarding it.“Don’t stand there and look like you want to murder a man on my behalf.”

“I do want to murder a man on your behalf.”The words are harsh as they fall from my lips.

“At least you’re honest.”