Page 18 of Broken Arranged Mate (Badlands Wolves #4)

It has officially been a week since I’ve seen Oren, and a full week since I’ve worked on the watchtower.

At this pace, there’s no way I’m going to get it finished in time. Our wedding is in a few days. I’ll just have to be okay with the way it looks now.

Aidan and Emin are busy with their families, my brother is busy with the pack business, and Oren has turned down every single time I suggested we work on it. I’m not allowed to go on my own, which means the best I’ll be able to do is finish painting before the big day.

So, once again, when the girls show up at my door, I’m distracting myself with something I can do.

“Okay,” Veva says, crossing her arms and looking up at me on the ladder, where I’m measuring the space for a shelf above the entryway. “What are you even building now?”

“It’ll be a shelf,” I explain, splaying my hand out and gesturing to the wall. “I can put hats here, and hang coats from it, and it will be up high enough that…” I trail off when I look at them again, realizing they’re all dressed nice .

Kira is wearing a simple black dress, her copper hair spilling around her shoulders. Veva is in a dark green pantsuit and smokey eye shadow, and Emaline is in a soft purple blouse with a skirt, paired with a pair of black pumps. Their perfumes mix together and float over to me.

“What…are you guys doing here?” I ask, eyes narrowing at the guilty look on Kira’s face.

“I know you said you don’t want a bachelorette party,” she says, biting her lip, “but… surprise!”

“ Surprise?”

“We’re doing something special,” Veva says, crossing her arms. “So come down from that ladder and put on something slutty.”

Emaline laughs, and I shake my head. “Don’t think Oren would appreciate that.”

“Who gives a fuck what he wants?” This time, it’s Kira, and it’s a shock to hear her talk like that. Since becoming the luna, she’s been a lot gentler, avoiding swearing around the boys. “Ash, you deserve a party for what you’re doing. Now, come on.”

To my surprise, it works. I get down from the ladder and the girls doll me up, putting me in a tight dress from the back of my closet—a gift from Kira that I never had a reason to wear.

I think that we’re going to the same place we always do for half-priced margaritas, but Emaline turns right out of town, following a road we don’t go on much.

“Uh,” I mutter, turning to her and raising an eyebrow. “Where…are we going?”

“Surprise,” Emaline says, connecting with my eyes in the rearview mirror. “But we are not taking you out to the middle of nowhere to murder you. I promise.”

“That hadn’t crossed my mind until you said it,” I laugh, and Veva laughs, too, throwing her arm around me and leaning into me.

We drive a bit longer, then pull up into one of the little satellite towns outside the larger capital of Ambersky, with the pack hall. I stare out the window, mind whirring.

Gramps used to take us on trips out to these towns to speak with the different farmers, those who lived near the cliffside, those who were more affected by the conflict on the border than those in town.

Now, though, we’re not here on business. Emaline steers the car onto a side road, and we start to climb, eventually finding ourselves at the top of a plateau.

It reminds me of that night. Seeing Oren for the first time. Not knowing who he was, but knowing that he was my mate.

“Isn’t this awesome?” Emaline asks as we climb out of the car and the valet takes it away. It is beautiful, situated at the top of the plateau with a view of the entire valley. We filter inside and order the most expensive things on the menu, and a vintage bottle of wine.

“Your brother is paying,” Kira says, slapping his card down on the table. “Since he’s part of the reason you’re in this mess.”

“He’s not,” I insist, leaning forward. “It was my idea, Kira.”

She narrows her eyes at me, then sits back in her seat, that expression melting into the concern I’m so used to seeing on her face.

“Ash.” She stops, clears her throat, and looks to the other girls like she’s trying to figure out how to word whatever she has to say. Finally, she lands on a variation of what my brother has been saying to me. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

“I know.” I look down at my lap. Even with the knowledge that Oren doesn’t want me, that he’s only going through with this for the packs’ combined sakes, I can’t stop myself from wanting it. From wanting him.

And maybe the girls would understand if I told them at least part of the truth.

“You know,” I say, picking up my wine, trying to say it as casually as I can. “When Oren showed up here, that first time…it wasn’t the first time I’d met him.”

As though they’ve planned it, their mouths drop open at the same time, and they glance at one another in shock.

Understandable—with Oren being the son of Jerrod Blacklock and me being the sister of the Ambersky alpha leader, it doesn’t make sense that we would have ever seen each other.

In fact, if either of us had set foot in the other’s territory, it likely would have been on sight.

With the exception of the super blood moon.

“You remember…” I stop, clear my throat. I can’t believe I’m telling them this, the secret I’ve been doing my absolute best to keep to myself. “You remember that super blood moon, all those years ago?”

I was much, much younger then. Still a teenager. But I knew my mate when I saw him. I keep things vague, but tell them just enough for it to make sense.

“Holy shit ,” Emaline breathes, her mouth open still, eyes wide as she glances between me and the others. “I’d wondered about that—about what you would do if you met your mate after marrying Oren.”

“Oren is your mate,” Kira repeats, rote, before dropping her forehead into her hands. “That explains so much.”

“Does he know?” Veva asks, arms crossed. “I can’t see how he wouldn’t.”

This is the part that’s especially embarrassing.

“I, uh—I think it’s one of those non-reciprocal things,” I admit, running my hand up and down my bare arms. Earlier, I was feeling sexy and defiant in the dress, but now I just feel exposed. The looks on their faces are disbelieving, pitying.

A non-reciprocal mating bond is pure torture for the mate left behind. Some people believe they don’t exist, but I must be proof that they most certainly do.

“I…I tried to claim him, and he pushed me away.”

Emaline sucks a breath in through her teeth, drawing back, shaking her head. “Oh, fuck , Ash.”

“That’s pretty embarrassing,” Veva says bluntly, taking a drink of her wine, like that might help to wash the feeling away. “And…what? Why would he agree to marry you if he rejected you all those years ago?”

“For the packs,” I say, simply, because I know it’s the truth. “These marriages work because, in some ways, they alter our biochemistry. The things in our heads wired to pack bonds adjust when relationships span across them.”

“Oren was right,” Veva laughs, looking into her cup. “You are pretty fucking smart, Ash.”

I smile, thank her, but I’m not sure I believe her. Would a smart woman get herself into this situation? With a man who didn’t claim her back as a mate?

“Well.” Kira clears her throat, raises her glass, and says, “I have to get back to the dress after this, so let’s make the most of this moment. To you, Ash. For your sacrifice, and for the knowledge that if you ever decide to leave that fucker behind, we’ll be there with the getaway car.”