Page 17 of Not My Mate

"I suppose so. You said you don't believe in mates. Does that affect your decision in any way, or would it stand no matter what?"

"How long were you listening?" I scowled at him. I didn't feel like being a nice, polite guest anymore. Actually, I never had. "You know, I don't give a shit. No, I don't believe in mates. You can take your stupid bullshit philosophy and shove it up your collective wolfish asses. No, I don't believe in mates — because it's bullshit. It gets people into trouble. It makes them trust their instincts when they can't. It hurts, and it's stupid, and it'snot true."

He blinked. "It's true for many of us. Someone hurt you, didn't they?"

"No. That's none of your business." I pointed the wrench at him, a very threatening way to talk to an alpha, almost daring him to make something of it. "You can stay the fuck away from me as well, old man. You're nothing to me. I owe none of you a single thing, and I will bite you if you don't leave me alone."

He gave me an amused, slightly sad smile. "Quite the feral, aren't you?"

I spat on the ground. "Fix your own fucking truck, then." I wiped my hands on a grease rag, tossed it to the ground, and walked past him, my angriest swaggering walk. I was so mad I could spit nails.

Feral, indeed. Why would I ever want to be tame?

Chapter 3

We don't talk about our problems

RUSS

"You can't change someone's mind, Russell," my mother was telling me. She'd pressed a glass of milk into my hands, and I was drinking it disconsolately. Nothing was going to fix this; nothing. My heart was broken, and Charlie hated me. I'd thought he was starting to — I don't know, at least accept me as a person in his life. Almost a friend, perhaps.

But, no. He hated me. I disgusted him. He would never love me back.

I'd handled it all wrong, but maybe there was no right way. Maybe it had been doomed from the start.Why can't he smell it? Why can't he feel it? We could be so right for each other, if things were different. If he didn't hate me and love that stupid human instead.

Dad came back into the house, his boots loud on the floor. It was such a familiar sound, first heard back when I was a little pup and he'd get home from work, and we'd all run to greet him. The creak of the floorboards under his feet and of his knees as he crouched down to greet us. I felt my throat close up. Everything hurt today, even memories.

"Wallis?" asked Mom, looking at Dad expectantly. "Anything to say?"

He gave a slow nod and looked me in the eye. "Russ, I'm sorry, but you've got to stay away from him. He's not kidding around. I think he's dangerous to himself and everyone else right now. He's more than half feral, if you ask me."

I gulped. "He hates me."

"Yes, he does — or he thinks he does. It doesn't matter which. You need to let him go now and find yourself a different mate. It'll hurt for a while, but he's not right for you."

"But he is. I can tell."

"He can't. You don't get to decide for him. Only yourself. Do you want to waste your life and break yourself on a stone? That's what he is right now. He asked why you didn't say something sooner, so he could have told younoright away. He's very hurt and upset and he's—" He pursed his lips as if he was trying to decide how much to tell me.

"What?" Fear clutched at my heart. He wasn't going to hurt himself, was he? "He's what?"

"That is a very broken young man," said Dad thoughtfully. "I think he's been hurt very badly in the past, to the point where love, and mates, and any attraction at all are actually an insult to him."

I stared at him, horror slowly filling me up. "Somebody hurt him?" My voice sounded strangled. I wanted to run to him, my mate — my friend — my nothing. Whatever he was or wasn't. "Somebody hurt Charlie? When? How? Did—" My throat closed up, and my heart froze over.

Somebody had raped him, hadn't they? That was why he'd been so upset by my stupid kiss on the neck. It had reminded him of unwanted, forced attentions — of being assaulted. And he'd thought of me like that. He'd thought— He'd felt—

No, no, I couldn't live with this. I couldn't! I had to go to him. I had to fix this! I started past Dad.

He blocked me with a firm hand on the chest and a look in the eye. "No. Don't harass him anymore. That's how he'll see anything you do at this point. You need to let this go, son."

"No! Charlie—"

"You can't fix him. The past is done. You need to let go."

"Charlie." I tried again to go past him, but Dad pushed me back. He was still stronger than me, but he wasn't rough. I stumbled back a step and pressed my hands against my face, bowing my head into them. "Charlie."

"He doesn't love you," said Dad, every word a stab in my heart, even though they were spoken quietly and sadly. "He's never going to. Now, leave him alone, Russ. Leave him alone for both your sakes."