Page 31 of Jace's Mate

Jace didn’t know if she understood what she was doing, but his entire body roared with satisfaction and approval.She didn’t know it yet—but she washis.

“Have you never shifted?”he asked, startled even as he said the words.She looked old enough—mid-twenties, at least.Most shifters experienced their first change before puberty, when the wolf’s instincts grew too strong to suppress.Some had their first shift when they were even younger.

Her brows drew together.“Shifted?”she echoed.Her dark hair shimmered in the sunlight as she shook her head.“I mean… I’ve shifted furniture?Boxes?”

He almost laughed.Almost.

“Shifting,” he said again, voice soft, coaxing.“Into your wolf form.”

A pause.

“I don’t know why you keep talking about wolves,” she said, her voice quiet, almost apologetic.“I’m just… a normal person.”

He stepped closer, unable to help himself.She didn’t move away.

His fingers grazed her cheek.She shivered—but didn’t pull back.

“You’re a she-wolf,” he murmured, tracing the line of her jaw, the pulse fluttering just beneath her skin.“And I’m a he-wolf.Alpha of my pack.You’remymate.”

That did it.

With a huff of frustration, she stepped back, clearly trying to put distance between them.

He caught her arm before she got far.

Her eyes flared with anger.He saw it—felt it—but didn’t let go.

She made a disgusted sound.“I don’t know why you keep saying things like that.”

“You really don’t know?”he asked, stunned.“You’ve never shifted?Not even once?”

“Stop it!”she snapped, then immediately glanced around, her voice dropping to a hiss.“Stopsayingthat word!”

Chapter 9

Anikkaturnedtoleave,telling herself she had to go back.Dinner wasn’t going to cook itself, and the stew she’d left on the stove was probably scorched beyond saving.Sheshouldwalk away.

But her feet didn’t move.

She took one step, paused, then turned back to face him again.That man.The arrogant one with eyes like shadows and a voice that tugged at something buried deep inside her.He just stood there, watching her with unnerving patience.

“I’m not your mate,” she snapped.“And I’m not a shifter.Or a wolf.Or… whatever it is you’re calling me.”

“You think not?”he asked, low and calm, watching the war play out on her face.She was trying to walk away.Failing.

Just like him.

“You are a shifter, Anikka.”

She stepped back, threading her fingers into her hair and gripping hard at the roots.“I don’t understand why you keep saying that.It doesn’t make any sense.”

Again, she turned to go, but his hand reached out, brushing her arm—just enough to halt her.

“Are you telling me,” he said carefully, “that you’ve never felt your body begin to shift?You’ve never looked out a car window, seen the trees blurring by, and felt this...pull?Like the woods were calling you?Like you were meant to run?”

Her breath caught.

Because shehad.