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X ander

The woman standing in front of me, with the long blonde hair, as different from my black locks as can possibly be, and piercing, discerning eyes—she is my mate. My body knew it the moment I laid eyes on her, and I feel that we are the same. We have both gone through bad things. Together we can share the burden of terrible memories, but also create a happier life together. Create a family.

From this moment on, she is my everything. She is my mate, my only reason for continuing to breathe, and I will make it clear to these alphas that there is nothing they can do to keep us apart.

But even though I know this, and it should be obvious to everyone around us after our claim, the ultimas and these alphas are standing between me and my mate. Every time her gaze darts to mine, I feel the instinct to take her and run. But there’s something in the way she looks at me that makes me hesitate to do such a thing, and I realize that it might be fear.

Does my mate fear me?

I glance down at myself. It is true that I might be frightening to a tiny wolf like her. My rough appearance. My rough ways. I have never learned to be gentle, but I will learn to be gentle for her.

Once these men get out of my way.

“Kurt should be here,” an ultima, Hector, if I remember correctly, says, his eyes moving from my mate to the two men sitting next to her, their body language extremely protective as they stand between me, the other unknown feral, and her.

Anger courses through me. I want to rip them apart with my bare hands for keeping me from her. These two men already smell like they’ve been with my mate. It’s bad enough that I had to wait to join The Selection until pack alphas “get enough time with the omegas.” It’s a fucking insult. It’s like they also want the alphas to have the upper hand with the omegas, even though we will be their equal partners.

I’m lucky to have found my omega, but her eyes are downcast, her breath coming quickly. She seems paler than when I first saw her, and there’s a slight tremble to her body that makes my heart ache.

Damn it.

The alphas may be right. It hurts to accept that, but she is clearly afraid of me, or perhaps of all the ferals in general. Whatever her reason for being afraid of me, I will have to work hard to fix things between us. She will be my mate. Mother to my offspring. None of this can work if I scare her.

“Kurt chose not to come out with the alphas today,” another ultima says, and though I’m not that familiar with them, I think this one is Brock. “We can’t fault the omega for his choices, and we won’t wait for him to solve this issue.”

Hector, the ultima with the gray hair, looks pissed. “Of course the ferals were attracted to her . Chaos follows you,” he mutters, and to my surprise, one of the alphas next to my mate looks up sharply.

“What is that supposed to mean?” the blond-haired one asks.

“I’m sure he meant nothing by it,” Brock says, waving a hand to diffuse the tension.

“So, what are we going to do about this… situation?” Lance’s gaze moves between all of us.

“What does he mean? We are here for our mate. We found our mate. It’s not complicated,” the other feral says beside me, glancing again at our beautiful mate.

“You say she’s your mate,” the big blond alpha says, his mouth curling into an angry smile.

I want to punch that smile right off his face.

“Regardless of how… badly the ferals handled their introduction to the omega,” Brock says, his tone measured, “they get to explore their mating bond, if they think one is present. Those are the rules.”

I watch my mate shift uncomfortably, and I curse myself. I may have come on too strong, but I can show her that I’m not what this society thinks of me. I struggle with words, but I can show her through my actions that she couldn’t ask for a more loyal mate.

The other alpha mutters something about the ultimas and their rules, but the ultimas must pretend not to hear it. If I heard it, surely they did as well. Regardless, two angry alphas will not stand in the way of my connection with my tiny mate.

“Faye may need some time to get used to these… ferals,” the dark-haired alpha says, disapproval in his voice.

Faye. Her name dances through me, and I hold it close to me like something precious. This is the name of my mate. This is the name of the woman who will bear my children.

“You will not stop a mating bond from forming,” Hector says, pointing from one of the alphas to the other, his voice dripping with condescension. “With these ferals or with Kurt of Pack Obsidian. If a male feels a connection with an omega, he gets to explore it. You are not above the rules. No one is above the rules.”

He cuts his eyes to us, like we’re supposed to care about any of this process. Tell the bastards the woman is ours. No more needs to be said.

“Kurt will not be bullied out of this mate bond,” Hector says, sneering, making me curious.

If my mate was uncomfortable being around us, she grows even more so at the mention of this other man and his supposed bond to her, shifting and casting her eyes to the ground. It fills me with a rage I’ve never felt before. I feel a need to protect her from this man she fears.

“Faye,” Brock says, his eyes sliding to my mate, and it feels good to hear her name again— Faye . I roll it around in my head while the ultima speaks. “You know you’re supposed to give all potential mates a chance to explore their connections to you. Do you feel a connection to the ferals here who have claimed you?”

I bristle, sure that Faye was not questioned when these other alphas claimed her. I imagine it—to be trusted, for it to be assumed that you are telling the truth. The life of an alpha is a privileged life, and the life of a feral an acceptance that you’re lower than dirt.

“I—” she says, glancing between all of us.

Her gaze bounces between the two alphas at her side, then to the ultimas, then to me and the feral next to me. Her hesitation makes my chest twist. I know she felt our connection when we first rode onto the field. It was like a physical force, drawing us to one another, a line from my soul to hers. How can she stand there and pretend she didn’t feel it? Especially when it’s clear that she’s already taken on two alphas?

Say it. Tell them. Tell them we’re your mates.

“…I don’t know,” she finally says, her cheeks flushing an even darker red as she looks to the ground.

I feel the feral next to me tense with agitation. He’s clearly upset at her reaction as well, but he doesn’t convey any of that emotion when he speaks.

“My apologies to you, Faye ,” he says, her name on his tongue like honey, “and to the ultimas. I agree that my approach— our approach—wasn’t as gentle as it should have been. It’s no wonder she’s questioning the bond that exists between us, but I assure you it is there, and I, for one, would be honored to have a chance to explore it.”

The feral next to me turns, looking me up and down, before turning back to the ultimas.

“I am called Maverick, and my friend, here…”

“Xander,” I grunt out, hearing how it sounds, the word gruff and uneven. My eyes skip back to her’s—to my mate’s—and I hope she doesn’t judge me too harshly for it.

“…Xander, right. We are both just here to find our mates, like everyone else, and would gratefully accept the chance to do so.”

When I glance at the ultimas again, they’re regarding us differently. I don’t know why this stranger pulled me into his speech, but I’m glad he did. I would not have been able to say it the way he did.

“Fine,” Brock finally says, “but remind yourselves that omegas are our most cherished asset, and they are delicate . If you act in a way that she doesn’t like—if you’re not gentle or you cause her any harm—it will not be tolerated. Is that clear?”

Not tolerated for ferals, they mean.

“As a mountain spring,” Maverick agrees, and when the ultima looks to me, I nod. I don’t care about these people or their ridiculous rules—I just want to get close to my woman, show myself to her in a way I feel she can understand.

Even from this distance, I’m painfully aware of her, the scent of her skin, the scent of the two alphas on her, the rustle of fabric against her when she moves, each time she twists a tendril of hair between her fingers. Unlike the others, I sense that she and I are kindred spirits. There’s a great loneliness in her that’s only starting to abate. I’m ravenous for that kind of relief from my own isolation, and I’m certain she’s the answer to finding it.

I just hope she, and these alphas, let me explore our connection. Because one way or another, I’m not leaving The Selection without her.

I just hope that when she learns my secret, it won’t ruin everything.