Page 22 of Choosing the Rejected Mate

My chest tightens.“You don’t have a pack?”I ask.

“Not anymore.”

“Is that by choice?”

“Mostly.”

“That is not an answer.”

“No,” he says.“It’s an answer that needs more time.”

That’s fair.I gave him less than that yesterday.So I nod and don’t push.

The silence that follows is not uncomfortable even if it should be.But it settles between us like something alive and careful.

Then I ruin it.“I meant what I said yesterday.”

His gaze sharpens.“About?”

“The bond...”I gesture between us with my fork, because emotional conversations should always involve cutlery.“Whatever this is.”

“This is lunch with paperwork.”

“And suspicious flowers.”

“Can’t forget those.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

The humor leaves him, and suddenly all I see is the wolf under his skin.Not threatening.Not demanding.Just present, powerful, and waiting.

“I won’t rush you,” he says.

My throat tightens.“The bond might.”

“I’m not the bond.”The words hit harder than they should.

I look down at my hands.There’s flour under one nail and a tiny burn mark near my wrist from a tray last week.These are my hands.My work.My life.Mine.

“I need to know you want me,” I whisper.“Not just because your wolf decided I smell nice.”

Daniel is silent for so long I force myself to look up.His face is open, raw.“I do like how you smell,” he says.

My lips twitch despite myself.“Daniel.”

“I’m getting there.”He leans forward slightly, forearms braced on the table, but still leaves space between us.“The bond wants you because you’re mine.My wolf knows it.My body knows it.But I want to know you because you’re Holly.Because you yell at appliances and name ovens.Because you threaten people with baked goods and pretend not to care when you care too much.Because you laugh like it surprises you, and every time you do, I want to earn the next one.”

Oh.Oh, that is very bad.My chest aches in a way I don’t know what to do with.

I stare at him, and he stares back.My wolf presses against my ribs, quieter now.Less frantic.Like even she understands this is important.

“You can’t say things like that,” I whisper.

His brow furrows.“Why?”

“Because I might believe you.”The confession slips out before I can stop it, and Daniel’s expression softens.