Page 5 of The Alpha’s Rejected Arranged Mate (Bluebell Valley Wolves #3)

Elin had never been on a school bus before.

This wasn’t exactly the experience she thought she’d find herself inside one. It was a rough, uncomfortable ride. The seats were flat and hard, and the windows wouldn’t open. As though knowing rogues were in the area, teaming up with archdemons wasn’t bad enough!

She slumped in her seat, staring unseeingly at the long hills of green-gold grasses. The earlier fascination she’d had with the landscape was long gone. Demons had arrived on the scene. When she decided to ask Mica to put her on the mission—though if she was honest with herself, she didn’t decide or ask, merely demanded—she had thought the worst she would come up against was a rude Luna or a handsy Beta.

It'd never crossed her mind that demons were involved. She wished she hadn’t come on this mission at all. Finn, Christine, and Derek would do much better without her.

They turned around, a sharp twist in the road that jolted her from her melancholy thoughts. Elin took a deep breath and braced herself against the seat ahead. The bus didn’t have great shock absorbers, and since they’d come to a bridge that was washed out, they had to take the twisted backroads to get to Moon Lake. Though it would be more direct to go on foot, with Christine, they couldn’t just take their human form.

So, it was driving in this awful bus on these awful roads.

Elin’s phone pinged. She pulled it from her pocket to check the message. It was from Mica. They had reported what happened to Bluebell Valley, and this was Mica checking up on her. Warmth spread through Elin’s chest as she sent a message back, assuring her they were fine. Part of her wanted to call her Luna and spill all her fears, but she held back.

Mica had plenty going on in her own life with little Denzel. Tess was getting closer to giving birth every day, which would take her out of commission, too. Which left who to help Mica out during the day? Echo, Mica’s mother, of course, but she wasn’t as young as she once was. Which meant Mica would be dealing with a lot.

If Mica and Tess had just thrown their hands into the air and given up at the first sign of difficulty, the pack wouldn’t be in their position now. Their mates had saved them, but they’d saved their mates, too.

Derek was driving again, with Christine sitting in the frontmost seat, reading through Finn’s medical records. Every so often, she lifted her head and closed her eyes as though she was fighting down nausea. She understood that. The day was winding on, and they were all getting hungry. That, combined with the roads, was no wonder why Christine was feeling sick. But she didn’t give up, either.

Tess had once told Elin that being brave was a choice. Elin wasn’t entirely certain she believed that, but she did know one thing. Sitting here and being afraid didn’t help anyone.

Which meant she had to prepare. Elin had been lingering in the middle of the bus, with Finn at the very back. She hadn’t wanted to be as far away as she could be, worried that would make it look like she hated him. But she also didn’t want to be near him. Now, though, she went back to slide into the seat opposite him.

“If demons attack us, what should I do?” she asked. Her voice was steadier than she felt. Less conflicted.

Finn blinked several times as he looked up at her. His blue eyes focused sharply on her, but the wrinkle between his eyebrows told her he hadn’t heard what she had said. Elin repeated her question. Finn frowned, the furrow in his forehead deepening. He turned away and ran a hand through his red hair. His cheekbones were sharp in his profile, and the squareness of his jaw was so enticing that Elin had to curl her hands into her lap to stop herself from touching him.

Her wolf had no sense of propriety, insisting that she touch him, kiss him, and go back to the orphanage with his body pressed up against hers. They fit together perfectly, and memories of just how well they clicked made something inside her tighten.

“If we’re attacked, I want you to run,” Finn said.

What? Oh! Right. She’d asked.

“You run away. You run hard. Don’t hesitate, and don’t turn back. Not even for Christine,” Finn added with a concerned glance at the front of the bus. “We’ll fight. You’re the only one that stands a chance at escaping and reporting back to Bluebell Valley if it comes to that.”

“It feels wrong to turn my back and run away. It feels cowardly,” Elin murmured. Her shoulders slumped. It was her natural inclination when confronted by most things.

Finn’s gaze landed back on her. “Surviving is not shameful, Elin. Especially not when this is a direct order.”

“And I’m sure it’ll be enough to ease my conscience, especially when I’m not military and you’re not an alpha,” Elin teased.

He rolled his eyes, but his lips tugged into a smile. Over the last year, she’d known him, Elin had learned that Finn wasn’t stingy with his smiles, but he did need a good reason to share them. Her heart skipped a beat at his softening expression. It made his lips all the more kissable. Why would he have kissed her, told her he cared, if he didn’t?

The bond she felt in her soul was still there. She couldn’t convince herself it was just sexual desire. Oh, she had plenty of that, but she wanted more. It wasn’t just the pleasure she missed, but also laying in bed with her head on Finn’s chest. His fingers combed through her hair as he told her about training, growing up, or about Derek and Christine being the only family he knew.

She was starting to get lost in his eyes.

This wasn’t good.

She cleared her throat, shoving her wolf down deeper. “Can I help look through your files? If we all look, we might be able to find something faster. Maybe that’s why the rogues were there,” she added as the thought occurred to you. “Your… abilities are becoming better known. Which means more demons know that you’re half-demon. They could be looking for who your parents are, too.”

The hint of a smile on his face disappeared. Lines creased his forehead. “I hadn’t wanted to think that.”

Elin winced. “I’m—”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” Finn shook his head and handed her the file sitting next to him. “I already looked through this one and couldn’t find anything. You can go through it and see if I missed anything. I might be too close to see things clearly.”

He put it in her hands but held it tightly for a moment too long, staring at the file. Elin waited patiently, not trying to pull it away. He had every right to keep these things private, especially if they weren’t going to help find more information on the demons.

Finally, he released it. “Don’t read too deeply. That is, don’t dwell on anything you see. Keep looking for details about where I came from.”

Elin nodded. As she opened the file, though, Finn shook his head. She looked up, startled. “Have you changed your mind?”

Finn growled softly. “There’s nothing in there. Here.” He pulled a stack of papers from the bottom of the file he was looking through. They appeared to be the ones that she’d printed. “Look through these. No point in going over things I’ve already discounted.”

His jaw tightened after he finished, a muscle twitching. Elin clutched the papers to her chest and moved several seats up to get away from his tense energy. Clearly, he didn’t want her to see anything about his past. Even though he’d shared enough in the quiet moments after their lovemaking— fucking , she corrected herself. Lovemaking implied emotions that simply hadn’t been present between them. That had never really existed.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Without turning, she knew his eyes were on her again. She wanted to turn, to meet his gaze and assure him that she wouldn’t judge him for whatever she found. But words were meaningless. She’d learned that long ago.

They went over a bump that nearly made her lose her grip on her papers, so she divided them in half and put the bottom ones under her thigh to keep hold of them while she read the top ones. The first few pages were useless, detailing things like diet— protein-heavy, as shifters needed—and how quickly he grew out of clothes.

The next pages detailed his interactions with the other children. The workers often noted that he organized the children’s games or stepped in to mediate conflicts before the adults became aware there were problems. A soft smile crossed Elin’s face as she read that. It sounded like the Finn she knew.

Christine joined them. “There’s nothing unusual that I can find in here. Can I?” She nodded to the file Finn had abandoned.

Finn pushed it to her and took his medical file. His gaze was down, and he didn’t look at her. Elin wanted to ask Christine what she thought about all of this. She’d known Finn for almost her whole life and was as much a sister as Derek was a brother. She’d have to have insights into Finn that Elin didn’t have.

But that was going too far. Elin focused on her papers again. The word adopted caught her eye. As she read, her stomach swooped. She reread the paragraph several times before it fully sank in. Gathering her pages, she returned to the back seat. With Christine sitting in the opposite chair, Elin knelt in the seat just in front of Finn.

“You have a living relative,” she said.

Finn’s head jerked up. “What?”

“Here.” Elin handed him the page. “An anonymous source claiming to be your blood relative paid for your upkeep with strict instructions you are not given into the custody of anyone else. The orphanage personnel deliberately prevented you from being adopted. You were never given the chance.”

“What the fuck?” Christine breathed.

It was clear from their expressions this was something they hadn’t known. Anger abruptly swept through Elin’s chest. There were pictures in these files of Finn when he was a little boy. A round-faced child with hopeful eyes and an easy smile. And they had prevented him from being able to have parents who loved him.

Tears pricked her eyes. “Why would they do that to you?”

Finn’s jaw worked before he said, “They must have known.”

The pain in his voice was soft, barely there. Elin’s heart cried out, and she reached for his hand. “You didn’t deserve that. You deserved to be treated like any other child, Finn. They should have let you find parents.”

“I didn’t need parents,” Finn answered automatically.

But there was something in his voice all the same. It wasn’t quite anger and not really pain anymore, either. More like… resignation. Elin squeezed his hand, wishing she knew better how to comfort him. What had shaped him into the man he was? She knew he was strong, but he was also guarded. He didn’t let people see him… and yet he didn’t hide from her.

“When did you find out?” she asked. For some reason, she thought he’d always known. But that didn’t make sense, now that she thought about it.

“After I joined the military.” Finn stared at the papers again. “They must have done what they thought was best. If they knew I’m half-demon, I should count myself lucky that they didn’t off me as soon as I dropped out of my mother.”

“Don’t say that,” Elin whispered.

Christine cleared her throat. “I know who it was. The anonymous blood relative.” She held up the folder that Finn had just been reading. “There’s a note right here on the back page about who dropped you off at the orphanage. Alpha Seth of Moon Lake.”