Page 2 of Denying Her Mate (The Wolves of Black Mountain #3)

Chapter 2

Roux

TWO MONTHS LATER…

I can feel him watching me. I don’t move my gaze from the silvery-gray sky overhead, even though every inch of my body urges me to glance in his direction. Within my mind, my wolf bays, pawing at the ground and imploring me to claim what it sees as ours, but I can’t.

I can never do that.

Trying to ignore Sawyer’s presence, I sink onto the bench pushed against the wall of my cabin and watch the soft swell of snow fall around me. I love this time of the year. The mountains behind the lake are topped with white and it’s quiet, other than the rustling of the trees behind my home. I feel so much peace sitting here—or usually I do. It’s hard to focus with such an intense stare being directed at me.

Why won’t he leave me alone?

Ever since Sawyer and the other vargr wolves arrived at the Sanctuary, I have been sneaking around like a teenager out past curfew. He wants to talk all the time, to fix things between us, but there is nothing to fix. I don’t want him. End of story.

What I do want is to be left alone.

I never wanted a mate. I put things into place to ensure I never would have one, but something has gone wrong. Sawyer recognized me as his the moment he laid eyes on me.

I cling to my mug, warming my hands through the ceramic, and focus on anything but him. The smell of coffee beans fills my nose, but it’s not enough to disguise the scent of him. I smell him everywhere .

I feel him too.

The mating bond is there inside me, throbbing and pulsing, demanding I let him finish the claiming. It doesn’t matter how much I try to push it down, it is still there.

I won’t allow it, no matter what my body tells me.

But I can’t deny the truth, even if I want to.

Sawyer is my mate. Not one I have chosen, but one that magic and biology has determined is mine. He and I share a bond that so few of our kind ever experience. I should be grateful for that. A fated mate bond is not the norm in our world. Most wolves choose their mates, and over time that relationship grows into something that mimics a fated mate bond, but it can never compare.

But this isn’t a celebration for me.

It is a nightmare.

I would only hurt Sawyer if I let him in and I won’t do that.

He moves closer to me, my body reacting to his presence even though I try to fight it. I attempt to focus on the horizon, where the sun has already risen and sits low in the winter skyline. Squinting against the brightness, I let my eyes roam around the place I have come to call home.

At the bottom of the Sanctuary is the lake. It spans all the way to the woodlands out west, and the crystal-clear waters reflect the light in beautiful prisms, making it appear magical. Behind that, tall mountains loom over the landscape, like silent sentinels.

The tallest of the three peaks is Black Mountain, a strange name considering even in the summer the top is not black, but it is what the locals have always called the place.

Tessa and Abel’s cabin is closest to the water and farthest from the main house. Cade and Halle have Abel’s old place, while the vargr males have the cabin next to that. There are several more cabins, including mine, that lead up the trail to a large, double fronted, main house. That’s where we go to have dinner and practice our magic.

Before I found the Sanctuary, I didn’t understand the things I could do. Hester showed me my truth. She unveiled who I really am. We are called tau wolves by other shifters, but the name is misleading. We are only part wolf. Most of us have a strong connection with magic, stronger than any pure wolf.

There are plenty of wolves who despise us for our mixed blood. Plenty who would kill us just for existing too. Most of the tau wolves at the Sanctuary are here because they were hunted down by the Order of the Crescent Moon, an organization of wolf shifters dedicated to our genocide. Those hunters take pleasure from murdering us in the most brutal ways. It is a sport to them, a game. We are their prey, and I never felt safe from their constant threat until I joined with the other tau females at the Sanctuary.

They came for us, breaching the Sanctuary’s wards. We should have perished, but we had practiced, honed our magic together as a coven. It made us strong, immovable.

Despite this, a chill runs up my spine. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t scared that we’re on their radar now. The Order had come at us, and we had won, but it doesn’t feel like a victory.

“You can’t ignore me forever.”

My thoughts scatter at the sound of Sawyer’s deep, gravelly voice. The knot growing in my stomach isn’t unpleasant, but I try to ignore it anyway. I can’t afford to have feelings for this wolf.

“Can’t I?” I fire back the words without looking at him, my grip tightening on my mug.

“We’re mates.”

I jolt at his words almost sloshing coffee over myself. I want to deny him again, but it is pointless. Sawyer is not listening and I’m tired of refusing the truth.

We are mates. I feel Sawyer everywhere inside me, a connection that scares me. Day by day, small pieces of my resolve to refuse his claiming are chipped away. My body craves his touch, my wolf urges me to let him take me, but my head knows I can’t.

“No, we’re not.” The lie spills from my tongue and I can imagine his incredulity as I speak the words.

“Roux, look at me.”

I don’t. I’m afraid if I do, I won’t be able to stop myself from going to him and commanding him to kiss me—or more.

I place my mug on the small table at the side of me. “No.”

“Roux.” He says my name again, this time with a bark of command that I nearly give in to.

Trying to anchor myself, I curl my fingers around the edge of the bench. My suddenly starved lungs ache as I attempt to draw air in to calm my fluttering pulse. Sawyer’s scent envelops me, and my wolf whines.

“Why are you denying this so much?” His voice is soft as he asks this, questioning, but also sympathetic. “What happened to you that forced you to ask Hester to stop you from claiming your mate?”

This time when my chest tightens it has nothing to do with my inability to breathe. I force down the memories trying to shove out of the carefully crafted box I locked them in. “I just want to be left alone, Sawyer. Please respect that.”

He doesn’t move. I didn’t think he would. The wolf is stubborn.

“Please, Sawyer.” I whisper the words, desperation lacing them. I can feel my resolve weaken every moment he is close to me. It is torturous to be around him.

“If that is what you want,” he says.

“It is.”

He blows out a breath, and I can tell he’s ticked off, even without looking at him. Yet, his next words are not angry. “You should go inside. You’re going to freeze.”

The fact he still cares about my wellbeing doesn’t surprise me, but it heightens the guilt I feel toward him. Rejecting a mate, a true mate, has both emotional and physiological consequences. Most rejected mates wither away in agony. It is a cruel trick of nature, or perhaps magic, that placed this curse on our wolves.

And it is a curse.

Wolves are driven to find their mate, but most never do. Instead, they play the system, taking a chosen mate instead. It is not ideal, but it is better than the alternative.

Finding a true mate is a one in a million event. I won that lottery, and I refused the prize.

What’s worse is that he has accepted me despite all the baggage I am dragging behind me. I’m a hybrid abomination who’s being hunted by a group of maniacs, who no longer want to kill my kind, but instead want to collect us like trophies.

So why am I not embracing this?

Because I know what will happen if I give in to him.

“I don’t need you to take care of me.” Unlike his, my words are clipped and harsh. Inwardly, I cringe. This is not me. I am not this angry, vitriolic person, but what choice do I have? He’s getting too close, pushing too much.

I want him to walk away, but being a bitch to him doesn’t seem to have any effect. Every day he’s here, standing in front of my porch, trying to talk to me. In fact, the more mean I am to him, the more he seems to want me.

“Too bad.” He shifts his shoulders, proving my thoughts are right. “I’m always going to take care of you, Roux. You’re my mate.”

I grit my teeth. Stubborn asshole .

“Are you deranged?” I demand, still not looking at him. “Most people get the hint when someone doesn’t want them around.” I wince at how vile my words are, but he snorts, as if my retort is the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.

I risk a glance in his direction, but he’s not offended like I expected. He’s smirking.

My stomach flips.

That cocky smile does things to me. I know this side of him is the real Sawyer, not the angry, irritable wolf I have created through my refusal to recognize him as mine.

“What can I say?” He shifts his shoulders as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. “I’m a slow learner.”

His bright eyes lock onto mine and I’m magnetized, unable to tear my gaze away. Despite the cold, my body feels hot, my skin prickling with awareness. My wolf wants him. I want him. I nearly lift off the bench and it takes all my strength to remain seated.

“Stop.” I gasp the word, desperation filling me.

I’m scared of being dragged into his squall and drowning in the turbulent waters. I can never love anyone. My love destroys.

“I can’t, Roux.” The way he says my name makes a shiver race through me. My wolf likes it. I do too, though I don’t let that show on my face. Keeping a distance is the only way to survive this storm. “Do you think I want to be here, begging you to give me a chance every day? I’m a proud wolf, Roux, but we are fated, and I can’t walk away.”

A lump forms in my throat. The battle waging inside me causes physical pain. I don’t know how much longer I can resist him.

“I’m trying to enjoy some peace and quiet, Sawyer.” I hate myself for saying these hurtful words, but self-preservation means I have to do everything in my power to keep him away from me.

I get the first flash of anger from him. “I don’t know why the fuck you’re denying what we are, but I’m not walking away from you. You’re mine and you know it. Why fight it?”

I snap back, my anger flaring through me, and not because of his words, but because I am losing control and that scares me. “What do you want from me? I don’t want a mate. I sure as hell don’t want you. I wish you never came here.”

My words are meant to hurt, and I’m sure they do. His jaw pulls tight as he stares moodily at me. Even standing there looking like that, my heart flutters wildly in my throat. My body reacts to him without meaning to. Wetness floods my pussy, urging me to let him inside me, to take me. It takes every ounce of willpower not to move. I shift my legs, trying to press against my pussy to stop the ache there however I can.

I notice the moment he scents my arousal. His eyes heat and I feel suddenly hot.

“Your mouth says you want me to go, but I can smell your need, Roux.”

I clamp my thighs together, embarrassment heating my cheeks, but he moves up the steps of the porch.

I freeze as he comes toward me.

What is he going to do?

I’m too vulnerable sitting, so I stand, trying to make myself seem bigger than I am. It’s pointless because Sawyer is a big male. His shoulders are broad, and as he stops in front of me, I have to tip my head slightly to look at him.

The staccato beat of my heart is so loud I swear he can hear it, but he says nothing as his eyes crawl over my face.

All my protests vanish as he slips into my space, sucking the air out of my lungs as he does. His body is inches from mine as his fingers slide under my chin to fix my gaze to his. Even that small touch is enough to ignite me.

I should feel suffocated, but my wolf makes a rumbling sound deep in her throat as Sawyer strokes down my cheek.

“I don’t know what caused you to reject me, Roux, and if you tell me to walk away, I will respect that, but I want you. I need you. You are mine and I am yours. Don’t let fear stop you from taking what’s yours.”

He dips his head, as if he’s going to press his mouth to mine, and I close my eyes. I want him to kiss me. I want it so badly my gut burns with my need.

No. I can’t.

I pull my head away, refusing to let him connect with my lips, and his mouth lands on my cheek awkwardly. Humiliation burns through me as I rasp just one word. “Don’t.”

Neither of us move; the tension between us is palpable. It clings to the air around us, an oppressive weight pushing against us. I wish I could make him understand why I can’t be what he wants, but it would mean telling him that my wolf is the least animalistic part of me. I am a beast, a monster, and he needs to stay away from me.

I slip out from between him and the wall, needing space. He doesn’t stop me, not that I expect he will. I have heard of rejected mates forcing themselves on their woman, but I don’t fear Sawyer doing that to me. He wants me, but only if I feel the same way.

He pushes off the wall, turning to face me, and I hate the anguish I see in his expression. “Maybe one day you’ll be able to tell me what you’re so scared of, Roux.”

Pain lances through my chest, stealing whatever irritation I was feeling. This isn’t his fault. Like me, he didn’t ask for a mate. Sawyer is the one who drew the short straw. I am defective, broken, and, in our world, I am an abomination. Despite all that, he still wants me.

I soften, needing him to know there isn’t anything he’s done wrong. “Sawyer, this… it isn’t personal.”

It’s not. I would have denied anyone I was fated to mate with.

His eyes are intense as he takes me in. I want to step up to him and let him take that kiss I thought he was going to give me, but my feet stay rooted to the decking.

“It’s personal for me,” he says.

He backs away, his gaze still locked to mine, before he finally turns and jogs down the steps of my porch, leaving me standing there, empty, and chipping yet another piece off me.