Page 16

16

M averick

It’s a beautiful day on the water. The sun is shining, the water is lapping gently at the sides of our boat, and I’m in the best mood of my life. Somehow, I’ve managed to get lucky enough to be the one to take Faye out on the boat. It was only big enough for two people, so the other men and I had to draw straws. And luckily, my straw was the longest.

Kurt, a clear asshole if I’ve ever seen one, got the tiniest straw and threw a tantrum the likes of which a toddler would have been impressed by. Cayson laughed so hard I sincerely thought the alpha was going to shit his pants, which of course sent me rolling around in laughter.

It’s a good day.

Faye looks ethereally beautiful right now, the sun slanting off her honey-colored hair, her face turned away so I can see the curve of her jaw. She’s wearing a little white skirt and a striped collared shirt, her hair braided over her shoulder. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined an omega as beautiful as her. Never have I thought such a tiny person could have such a powerful effect on my heart.

“Are you comfortable being on the water?” I ask, watching my oar as it dips into the water again.

I’m trying to look at her less, in the hopes that it might help her relax, but it’s hard to do when my gaze is drawn to her like a magnet. I’ve never felt anything like this before, and I’ve had my share of women, human women, but still women. I know it’s the mating bond, I just need her to accept that too.

“Yes,” she says, nodding a bit and clearing her throat, her gaze drifting back to the shore.

I wait for her to continue, to follow that train of thought, but that single word is all I get. I think of that moment riding up on the group, seeing how she was laughing and talking with the others. And now it’s like pulling teeth to get her to say a single word to me. It… hurts. I thought that with my mate everything would go smoothly, that she’d fall as fast for me as I’ve fallen for her, but those dreams have been dashed.

Not that I’m giving up.

“That’s good,” I say, “me, too. One of my dads used to take me fishing all the time when I was a kid, and he loved going out on the boat. Said fishing from the shore was for chumps.”

That seems to draw her attention. Those big hazel eyes of hers land on me with interest, and a little smile curls her lips. Her full, incredible lips. Lips I long to kiss.

“I’ve never really fished from a boat. My brother and I usually fished from the shore,” she says, and I watch, my throat going dry, as she traces her fingertip along the top of her thigh absently. Her finger blazes a trail just under the hem of her skirt, and it’s like I can’t physically rip my eyes from the sight of it.

“You have a brother?” I ask, excited.

I have brothers. Too many of them. Okay, well, three of them, but it’s more than enough.

“I had a brother,” she says softly.

I flinch, hating the pain in her voice. “I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head. “It’s fine.” But she doesn’t sound fine.

My thoughts spin, trying to think of a way to keep her talking. “I have brothers. Three of them. All littler than me, and all complete animals. They have a game called nard hunter. They take their gel ball blasters and spring out at me any time I’m not expecting them and shoot me in the dick. It’s a hoot… for them.”

She smiles. A real smile. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

“The little bastards drive me crazy, but I love them.”

Her fingers continue playing with the hem of her skirt, and I feel my blood rush south. “So, you have a big family then?”

I lick my lips, trying not to stare. “Three dads, all ferals, my mom, and then my three brothers, so, yeah, we’re a full house, although I know it’s not like living with a pack. Living amongst humans is just different. There’s always a sense that something is missing, but having a big family helps to make up for the lack of pack. At least a little.”

She seems to be considering my words. “I’ve never spent a lot of time around humans. Are they as weak and stupidly violent as they say?”

I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, some of them are. But they’re also complex, just like shifters. There are good ones, bad ones, and some that are in-between. You actually have to get to know them to be sure of who they are.”

“That’s… a strange notion.” She seems to be thinking. “And humans have families like ours?”

“They usually only have one dad in a family and one mom, so ferals have to be careful how they present themselves to humans. Some of my dads were said to be my ‘uncles’ to the humans, which was always weird to me.”

“I had one dad.” She laughs. “But I know that’s rare.”

I don’t care if she thinks the way I grew up is strange. I’m just glad to be talking to her. Bonding with her. “When we get married, you’ll meet my whole family. I don’t know about your other mates, but I’d love for my brothers to be involved in our wedding, somehow, if that’s what you want.”

Her eyes are wide. “Remember, I’m not looking for mates.”

Not. Looking. For. Mates. Each word is like a blow to the chest.

“And yet you’ve found them,” I tell her, trying not to sound as heartbroken as I feel at her words.

There’s something between us. An unbreakable bond. I felt it the moment she looked at me. Surely she feels it too.

I always wondered how I’d know when I found my mate, but in that second, I didn’t have to wonder any more. She’s my mate. I can feel it in my bones.

And yet, she denies me. Why? Because I’m a feral? The idea makes me want to punch myself in the stomach.

We drift along the water for a long, quiet moment. My mind races with things I should say, topics I might be able to bring up to get her to open up to me. Now that I’ve found my mate, I just want to know everything about her.

But she has absolutely no interest in me.

When I turn the boat, rotating us completely in the water, I notice that Faye turns her head so she can continue looking at the shore. There’s something in the way her body has tensed that makes me think she’s having a strong emotion. When I glance up, there’s a figure standing on the sand.

“An admirer?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. Faintly, I remember the ultimas mentioning another alpha when we first met, but it didn’t seem like Cayson and Ezra cared for him.

“No,” Faye whispers, and the tone and volume of her voice immediately puts me on edge.

I stop rowing and really look at her, and I realize in my excitement over being near my mate, I forgot to actually see her. But I see her now, and it’s clear that she’s terrified, her head slightly bowed, her breath coming quick, her hands trembling slightly. A cool, intense rage rolls through me, and I look back to the shore to get a better look at the figure on the shore. The person that’s making Faye feel like this.

He’s small for an alpha, almost laughably weak-looking. And he’s got a really unfortunate face, I can see that even from a distance. He’s got the kind of mug fitting every thug on the street, every drunk at the bar. No, this isn’t her mate. This is… someone to protect her from.

“Who is that?” I ask, trying to keep my fury out of my tone.

In truth, it doesn’t matter who it is—if Faye is this scared of them, I’ll tear them limb from limb without her needing to say a word. I will never ask her to explain herself to me. If she needs something, I’ll give it to her. No questions asked.

“Nobody,” she chokes out, her gaze swinging back around to me, her eyes wide.

This is the first strong reaction I’ve seen from her, a moment of truth between us, and I hate that it came at the involvement of something that’s making her this anxious. My woman, my mate, should never feel afraid. Not with me here.

“ Faye ,” I say, starting to paddle in the direction of the shore. “Who is that?”

“No one.”

I paddle faster, determined. I’m already a feral. What can they do to me if I beat that man within an inch of his life? Nothing, that’s what.

“Where are you going?” she asks, confusion and fear in her voice.

“To take care of this… problem.”

“No, wait,” she says, reaching out and putting a hand on the oar. Her touch is light enough that I could keep rowing if I wanted, but I stop anyway, letting the boat drift again. She takes a deep, shuddering breath, wrapping her arms around herself, her chin tucking into her chest. “That’s Kurt.”

“Your other mate?”

“ No ,” she says, her eyes flying up to mine again. “I mean, he’s claiming that we’re mates, that he feels the mating bond with me, but it’s not true. He’s not a good man. He’s just—this whole thing is a power play. He’s claiming me just so he can hurt me.”

Without thinking, I’ve started rowing the boat back in the direction of the shore halfway through her statement. What kind of deranged asshole claims an omega just to torture her?

The kind that I want to beat.

“Maverick,” Faye says, putting her hand out again, but this time I ignore her. “Maverick, no. Stop ?—”

She lunges forward, trying to get the oar from my hand, but nearly throws herself over the side of the boat. I wrap an arm around her and haul her back, settling her on my lap firmly. The touch is overwhelming—her soft skin against mine, the way her skirt fans out over my lap. I expect her to move away immediately, but she just stays where she is, her wide, doe eyes meeting mine.

We stay still for a moment, breathing hard, looking at each other.

“I’ll take care of that fucker,” I growl, my voice coming out lower than I’ve ever heard it before.

My hands tighten on her hips, and she lets out a little noise that nearly makes me choke. Slowly, I move my hands up. I plant a palm on her back and start to rub in circles, watching as her eyes flutter and close. As much as I want her, reassuring her comes first.

“Okay,” she says lightly, as though she doesn’t actually believe I can get rid of the guy.

That’s fine—I’ll just have to prove it to him. To her. My mate doesn’t know me, yet, but she’ll learn soon enough that she’s my whole world. Nothing will ever be more important than her.

“Just let me–”

She shakes her head, then shifts to rest her cheek against my chest. “I don’t want you to go hurt him… right now.”

My blood is roaring through my veins. I want to kiss her. I want to touch her. As her perfect ass shifts against my erection, I wonder if she’s noticed. If my arousal is obvious. Surely such a tiny omega would climb off of me if she did. A scared one certainly would. Wouldn’t she?

“What pack are you from?” I ask tentatively, trying to continue my line of questioning from before. Trying to keep her in my lap as long as possible.

My chest loosens a bit when she actually responds to me, her voice quiet against my shirt. “Ivory,” she mumbles.

Ivory. The mountain pack. A small group without a lot of strong alphas, but with women who are world-renowned for their beauty. A lot about her starts to make sense. Her shyness. Her fragility.

I stroke her hair, lightly, tentatively. “You must be missing them a lot by now, right? You’ve been at The Selection for a while.”

“Well,” she says, softly, “yes, I have been here a while, but, well, I’m not exactly close to my pack.”

There’s a broken note of hurt in how she says it, and I swallow thickly, ignoring the asinine urge to go and make her entire pack pay for whatever they’ve done to her. All my life, I’ve wanted a pack, but if a woman like Faye doesn’t feel connected to her pack, they had to have screwed up pretty massively.

“I guess I can relate, not having a pack myself,” I say, chuckling. “But surely there must be someone you’re missing?”

Glancing down at her, I see that her eyes go far away, and I wish I knew what she’s thinking. Who she’s thinking about. Is there some man who has already stolen her heart? Some ex-boyfriend or past lover?

After a moment, she clears her throat. “I grew up with my grandparents and brother,” she says. “But I was mostly alone, even before they died.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, nuzzling my nose into her hair and breathing deeply.

Her scent is like coming home. Like having comfort here, close to me, to dip into whenever I want. It’s everything I ever imagined and more.

“Do you want a pack?” she asks, and the question startles me so much that my mind goes blank as I fish for a response to that. Misreading my response, she blushes deeply, her cheeks going from pale to crimson. “Sorry—I didn’t mean?—”

“No, it’s okay,” I say with a laugh. “I do. Not like, in any sort of urgent way, I mean. Being a feral is just fine. But having a pack would be good, too.”

I think about what it would be like to have a whole group of people at my back. A community to belong to. Other shifters to share my heartbreaks and triumphs. I can’t imagine such a thing, not really.

She shivers in my lap, and I reach down, grabbing the blanket that’s neatly folded beside me and opening it, wrapping us in its warmth. I’m happy when she relaxes against my chest, and I pick up the oar, steering us to a more private area of the lake. An area hidden behind tall grasses. A place away from that Kurt asshole.

The whole experience is surreal. I’m sitting there with my mate in my lap, aroused beyond words, grateful for every second she doesn’t spring away from me. It’s progress. More progress than I would’ve hoped for after her luke-warm reaction when we first met.

I stop paddling, my arms wrap around her, pulling her closer.

“I’m not in the market for mates,” she says again.

“Why not?” I ask.

She stills against me and silence stretches between us, but I don’t say a word. I need to understand the why of all of this, so I can untangle it. So I can get her to accept me, accept us.

“Being an omega means being smaller and weaker than everyone else. The second an omega ties herself to an alpha, pack, or ferals, it doesn’t matter, she’s opening herself up to get hurt. To get mistreated. I don’t want any of that. I just want to go home to my quiet cabin, live alone, and never worry about getting hurt ever again.”

My sweet mate. She’s not just coming up with scenarios. Her words are those of someone who has known a great deal of pain from those who were supposed to keep her safe.

“I’m sorry you’ve been hurt.”

“How do you know?” she asks softly.

“We’re connected,” I tell her, stroking her arms under the blanket. “But you know, as hard as it is, you can’t just live the rest of your life afraid to be hurt again. You have to take a risk if you want to form connections. Mates are an amazing thing. Our job is to create a beautiful home, a safe place for your nesting, and to help you bring our children into this world. Nothing is more important than taking care of you. Now, I don’t know your other mates, but I, for one, will do all these things for you and keep you safe.”

She glances up at me, and I stare down at her perfect hazel eyes. “You don’t even know I’m your mate for sure.”

I feel my blood pumping harder through my body. “I’m absolutely certain you are my mate. I’ve never reacted to any woman the way I’ve reacted to you. I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you. I mean–” I take a deep breath, wondering if I should keep my darker thoughts to myself. “Your scent is driving me wild.”

“It is?” She looks startled.

Reaching down, I run my fingertips over one of her legs. “And I can scent your reaction to me.”

Her cheeks turn bright red. “You can?”

I absolutely can. From the moment I pulled her into my lap, she’s been aroused. And it’s been driving me wild. A man can hardly be blamed for losing control with a mate this close, smelling this good.

“You clearly want me too.”

She shakes her head. “I– it’s not–”

I slide my fingers to glide along her inner thighs, and she spreads her legs a little, which makes my heartbeat fill my ears. That’s the best green light I’ve ever been given, but I don’t want to make a mistake or take anything for granted. Her trust is more important than getting what I want right now.

Using my fingertips, I run my fingers higher along her thighs, stroking down, then back up higher and higher every time. “You have no idea how wild you drive me. How much I want you. I mean your scent, fuck, Faye, it’s incredible.”

“Maverick,” she whispers, and her voice trembles.

I bring my hand up higher, hesitate, then push aside her panties. Her hands grasp my arm, but they don’t try to pull me away, they just cling to me, like she needs support.

“What if I touched you?” I ask, running a finger along her slit.

“I–I…” She swallows, her eyelids fluttering.

As I enter her very slowly, a groan slips from my lips at just how wet she is for me. “We don’t have to take things further. I could just make you feel good. Relieve your tension. Would you like that?”

She’s breathing hard. “Would it… relieve my tension?”

Fuck. She’s not very experienced. “It would.” My voice comes out low and husky.

Very slowly, I begin to stroke her, glorying in her silky smooth body. Glorying in how every slide of my fingers seems to make her wetter. She’s soaking my fingers, probably dripping, and her scent is everywhere, all around me. It’s the only thing I can smell.

She moans in my lap, and my cock jerks.

Her head falls back, and as I stroke her, she lets out a little whimper.

I start working my fingers harder and faster, knowing exactly where to touch her to bring her closer to the edge, and how to slow her down, to make her orgasm hit hard. Her muscles are tense. She begins to bounce against my lap, against my hardened cock, and I’m having trouble pulling in a full breath.

“Ma-Maverick,” she moans my name, and my erection swells.

“That’s right, baby, say my name. I like to hear you say my name.”

My mate is feeling pleasure. She’s thinking of me while I touch her. I must be in heaven.

I touch her faster, adding more pressure, working her clit as she bucks and thrusts on top of me. She says my name again, and I don’t even know I’m going to come until I start coming, exploding in my boxers as she reaches her orgasm, murmuring my name as she rides my fingers.

She collapses back against me, panting, and I keep touching her, because I never want to stop. This is my mate. Making her feel good is my responsibility, and it’s one I relish.

Her head swivels towards me. “Why did we do that?”

I smile, feeling like I’m on cloud nine. “Because we’re mates. This thing between us can’t be ignored.”

She opens her mouth to say something more, when my lips descend onto hers. She’s so soft, and so fucking sweet. When her lips part again, my tongue darts inside, claiming her mouth for my own. She whimpers and clings to me, lost in our kiss, just as I am.

Time passes, I have no idea how much, but we continue kissing on the boat, floating on the water, while I touch her and taste her sweet lips. At last, she breaks our kiss, and I stare down at her with pleasure. Her skin is flushed, and her lips are swollen.

She moves my hand out from under her skirt, and I reluctantly pull them out, then lick my fingers clean while she stares on in shock. “What are you doing?”

“I wanted to taste you. All of you,” I tell her.

She shudders in my lap.

I gather her up closer and kiss her shoulder, then her neck. “You, my mate, are perfect.”

“I’m not your mate,” she says, her words like knives to my heart. “This… it can’t change anything between us.”

Unable to help myself, I reach under her skirt once more. “We’ll see.”