Page 9 of I Don’t Believe In Fated Mates!

I tighten my fingers on Jesse's arm. "Listen! I – I want to see your house." Ok, that was a lie. The sane part of me does not want to see Jesse's house because there would be a bedroom in there, and there would be a bed in the bedroom, and my willpower is already on life support.

It's the only thing I can think of that would distract him from attacking the other man, though.

Some of the tension fades from his body. He turns to look at me, his brows drawing together.

"Of course," he nods. "What was I thinking? It's your home too now."

What the…

"Let's go." And he throws his arm around my shoulders and steers me down the road.

Chapter Five

JESSE

She touches my arm, small hand trembling, but the moment her skin meets mine, the world steadies. The fury still claws at the edges of my control, but her voice cuts through it like sunlight breaking storm clouds.

"Jesse. Don't. Please. I don't want this."

That one word, please, brings me to a halt.

Jeremiah knows it, too. He seizes the moment to turn and stalk off, shoulders rigid, his scent sour with fury. I'll deal with him later. For now, I focus on the only thing that matters—my mate standing so close to me, the feeling of her hand on my arm.

"Listen!" she blurts, gripping my arm tighter. "I—I want to see your house."

She's accepting that she's mine.

"Of course. It's your house too."

Her scent spikes with alarm. OK, maybe she's not entirely on board yet, but my wolf doesn't care. My wolf already knows.

My wolf is more confident than me that I can make up for all the stupid stuff I've done since I met her, like insulting her before I even laid eyes on her and then looming over her with my wang hanging out, before we'd even had a chance to shake hands.

I slide my arm around her shoulders, feeling her stiffen beneath my touch. She's so small, but she carries herself like she's ready to bite if cornered. I like that. I like everything about her more than I should.

We walk down the road, the afternoon air cool and damp with pine and rain. The forest parts ahead, and the house comes into view. Dark timbers rising from stone, weathered by time and storms. It's old, older than me, built by the first Alpha of Moonstone, a couple of hundred years ago. Mostly Alphas live here. Every inch of it smells of pack, of duty, of loneliness.

My father died in a death challenge when I was twenty-two. My older brother Andrew killed the man who killed him, and then moved into this house for a while, before he met his fated mate and moved away to form a new pack with her family. Cole refused the job of Alpha, so I had to step in to a role I'd never expected.

The pack council offers me guidance, but the day to day running of the pack rests entirely on me, and it's a heavy weight.

Except…now I'm not alone any more. Any burden that I carry is shared.

When I push open the heavy oak door, the familiar creak greets me like an old friend. The warmth from the hearth seeps into the air, carrying the scent of smoke, pine resin, and leather.

I glance at her as she steps inside. Her eyes widen, reflecting the firelight.

The great room is wide and open, all rough beams and stone walls, a massive fireplace dominating the far side. The fur rug in front of it is from my first solo hunt. The scratches near the hearth? A reminder of what happens when my temper gets the best of me.

The shelves are cluttered—old books, a half-finished sketch, a guitar I haven't played in years. I hadn't realized how empty it all felt until she walked in and breathed life into the place.

"What can I get you to drink? Are you hungry?" I ask her as I lead her towards the kitchen.

"I don't suppose you have tea?"

"I have everything you'll ever need. And if I don't, I'll get it for you."

Her eyes widen in surprise.