Page 2 of Come for Me
I don’t recognize her. Knowing Tyler, he probably picked this girl up at a bar out of town. Goddess help whoever is Tyler’s mate. I’ve never seen him commit to much of anything except a pissing contest with every male.
Ignoring them, I glance around at what looks more like a college party. She-wolves are crying over their boyfriends breaking up with them. Individuals are making out and sneaking off into the woods to hook up.
That’s why Taya and I brought the chairs. We knew there would be drama.
I smile at the chaos, admiring the ultimate people-watching spectacles, thankful to have avoided ever getting too emotionally involved with anyone.
The couple’s make-out session has escalated. They’re shamelessly using my armrest to steady Tyler’s recent conquest as she straddles him.
Annoyed, I scoff and scoot my chair closer to Taya.
“That could be you and your mate tomorrow.” Taya giggles at my misfortune.
I roll my eyes. “Not gonna happen.”
“You don’t know that. By this time, in a couple days, you could be at another pack...” Taya looks over at the redhead sucking on Tyler’s finger. “Doing whatever it isthey’redoing.”
Taya and I laugh, but sadness fills the air as the reality of her words set in.
I’ve lived here my whole life, and because some old tradition says so, I may have to leave everything behind.Wolves are only required to participate in the Hunt the first year they’re eligible, I remind myself.
I’m hoping I don’t find my mate.
Jemma would be disappointed, though.
Though we aren’t related by blood, Jemma was practically a sister to my late mother, and it was my mother’s dying wish for Jemma to raise me. Having never met my father, I understand she’s the only family I’ve ever known.
Whenever I ask Jemma about my mother, she tells me the same story of some pregnant she-wolf who showed up on her cabin doorstep seeking refuge. The pack took her in, and she lived with Jemma throughout her pregnancy.
My mother never told anyone who my father was, but one day, Jemma finally asked her. When she saw my mother panic for the first time, she didn’t pry further. When I asked Jemmawho she thought my father could be, she told me she didn’t know but figured it should probably stay that way.
Jemma said my mother always seemed to be in deep thought. Always climbing and sitting in trees for hours, probably thinking about my father.
That is, until she died giving birth to me.
What kind of mother would she have been? What advice would she give me as I faced the Hunt?I yearn for her wisdom and voice to guide me.
Dread filled my heart as the reality of not recognizing a mate among the pack, including Alpha Jack Waller’s son, Caleb Waller, sank in over the past year. I couldn’t fathom a time I wouldn’t have Jemma tie me to my mother’s memory. All I knew of her—all I had of her—was this pack.
Once I complete the mate bond, my tie to the Bloodhound pack’s mindlink would sever as my bond with my mate’s pack forms. By losing my connection to them, it’d be like losing her again.
Jemma explained to me once that, when my mother came to the pack seeking refuge, the alpha had taken her for interrogations. All of which were documented, giving me hope for video, audio, and even notes to provide insight into who she was. Answers to questions about my family history I didn’t think to ask may be in those records.
I remember how thrilled I was when Jemma told me and how disappointed I was to find out that only the alphas and their lunas have access to these records, meaning Caleb couldn’t tell me, either.
I’m shaken out of my thoughts by shattering glass and roaring flames.
Caleb and his buddies laugh as they throw alcohol into the fire. He catches me staring at him, his eyes flashing gold,followed by a smirk. Maintaining eye contact, he tells his friends he’ll “be right back” and walks toward me.
Not immune to his charm and stunning looks after all these years, my eyes wander over his daunting frame. As the heir to our pack, Caleb’s genes are pure alpha. From his confident stride to his unyielding service to our people with his caring hands, he radiates masculinity and desire.
Somehow, he has it all—he dominates all his fights yet is still so gentle and loving to pups. Caleb’s stern, compassionate gaze could hold anyone’s attention. His broad, strong shoulders will carry great responsibility one day and, frankly, also look great with my legs dangling over them. He’s built of muscle and testosterone, from his arms wrapped around my waist to the sturdy thighs holding us against various structures.
His speed and agility are unmatched, yet he takes his sweet timeclosing the gap between us. Caleb’s stride brings him closer, the details of his blue eyes shining in the bonfire light. Caleb, undeniably the most handsome male, takes after his father but receives his softness from his mother.
The Moon Goddess had determined our fate; the man standing before me is just as unmated as I am. Seeking solace and excitement in the pleasure, our bodies could soothe the disappointment that we weren’t mates after all. As the alpha’s son, Caleb has higher stakes to find a mate than everyone else, as it certifies his ability to take his father’s place.
The Hunt is meant to mark a time of hope and blessings to our packs, but to Caleb and me, it marks grave realities. We stand to lose everything: he, his Goddess-chosen mate, and I, my family.
