Page 33 of The Reluctant Mate (Shifters of the Three Rivers #5)
Chapter thirty-three
Sofia
I ’d been waiting for over an hour to talk to Lucian and Darla. I still didn’t know what I wanted to do. Still wasn’t sure if I wanted to stay here or go back to Three Rivers. Lucian had waved me into his office, but he’d been stuck on the phone since then, and Darla got called downstairs to deal with some issue with one of the bouncers half an hour ago.
“Segregating Shifters into separate districts from humans in the conclave cities isn’t a solution,” he said. “It’s a guarantee of more violence. Are you seriously considering voting for this nonsense?”
The voice on the other end sounded exasperated. “Of course I am, Lucian. Have you seen the latest statistics? Attacks on humans by Shifters are up forty percent in the last six months. The public is demanding action.”
Lucian’s voice hardened. “You’re talking about forcing people from their homes, splitting up communities that have lived together peacefully for decades. The public might be demanding action, but this is not it. You’re a politician; you’re supposed to lead based on the evidence, on what is right, on the public good, not follow the baying crowds.”
I got the impression that Lucian was losing this argument. There had been a lot of talk about werewolves on ripple attacking humans. Of humans needing to take a stand to protect themselves, of a war coming. I didn’t understand it. I’d lived my whole life in Three Rivers; I made great coffee and looked after my neighbors. I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if those same neighbors turned on me and ordered me to leave the only place I’d ever known. How had the world come to this?
Needing a distraction from my spiraling thoughts, I crossed to the window overlooking the fight club. Even above the dance music pulsing through the building, I heard the impact of fists on flesh, the crowd’s roar rising and falling like ocean waves. Two men circled each other in the ring, sweat gleaming on their skin as they darted in and out, each one hunting for weaknesses.
The larger fighter’s face was a mess—a gash above his eye had split open, blood streaming down his cheek, yet he showed no sign of slowing. His opponent’s ribs were mottled purple and black where the skin had been pummeled, probably by numerous blows.
Without scenting them, I couldn’t be sure, but my guess was they were both Shifters. They were too fast and were taking too much damage to be humans.
The larger of the two fighters was a blur of motion as his fist arced toward his opponent’s jaw. The smaller Shifter slipped under the punch. His footwork was smooth, deliberate, as he leaped up and brought his foot down on the other guy’s knee. There was a sickening crack as his leg buckled under him. He roared, pain and adrenaline feeding him as he drove up into the smaller one’s solar plexus.
Not wanting to watch any more, I turned away. The dance floor on the other side of the building offered a different kind of escape. I crossed to the opposite window, fingers trailing against the glass as I watched bodies move beneath the pulsing lights. They looked so free, so uncomplicated in their joy. Just strangers finding connection in the music, in the movement, in each other.
What would it feel like to go down there and join in? To let loose for once? I ran a bar and still couldn’t remember the last time I’d been dancing. How long had it been since I’d gone out and had fun? My wolf whined as the gaping hole in my chest seemed to expand. She didn’t want to let loose, didn’t want to have fun, didn’t want to do anything if it meant doing it without Derek.
The truth of it hit harder than I expected. How long had I been clinging to the idea of Derek, even while telling myself I wanted nothing to do with him? Every time he walked into the Bottley, every time his scent reached me or his voice floated across the room, it was like picking at a wound that never properly healed.
I closed my eyes, but that only made it worse. Memories flooded in—the way he touched me in the cabin, the look in his eyes as he tied the rope around my wrists, the ache of being left. Again. The military, the silence after our date, and now this. Three times, he’d walked away. Three times, I’d had to piece myself back together.
My decision crystallized like frost on glass. I couldn’t stay in Three Rivers, not with him haunting every corner of it. His scent would linger in the bar; his presence would shadow every street. Even the forest itself held too many memories of him. I couldn’t do it again. Couldn’t see him there and not have him. But I couldn’t stay here either. The city was not for me. It was too loud, too crowded, too smelly. No, I needed to find somewhere else, somewhere I could fit in, where I could belong without the memories and reminders of what I couldn’t have.
Tomorrow. I’d leave tomorrow. Pack light, head south, maybe. Somewhere without coffee shops or Pack politics or gray-eyed Betas who looked at me like I was everything right before they disappeared. Somewhere I could forget the way the scent of pine and moss made my heart race. Somewhere where someone might think I was worth sticking around for.
My wolf whined again, plaintive and desperate.
I ignored her.
The door swooshed open, interrupting my spiral. Darla slipped into the office, her eyes flicking to me briefly before she headed straight to Lucian.
He watched her approach and must have seen something in her demeanor as he said into his phone, “I need to call you back.”
As he placed the receiver down, Darla leaned close to whisper something in his ear, but my enhanced hearing caught the words anyway: “Derek Shaw is here.”
My heart seized in my chest, squeezing so tight I thought it might shatter. Lucian’s eyes flicked to me, studying my reaction with an unnervingly calm assessment.
“You want to see him?” Lucian asked, his tone carefully neutral.
I forced my voice to remain steady, even as everything inside me trembled. “No. I don’t want to see him.” The words tasted like lies on my tongue, but I pushed through. I had to start somewhere if I was ever going to get over him.
Darla’s pale blue eyes narrowed slightly before she moved to the side of the room, phone already in hand.
“Get rid of him,” she ordered, hanging up before the person could reply.
My wolf growled at me, her claws scraping against my mind.
Mate.
We don’t want to see him, I shot back.
Mate.
As if that magically made all our issues disappear.
Darla’s phone rang loudly just as insanity erupted below.
Shouts. Then a deafening crash. I rushed to the window overlooking the fight club just in time to see one of Lucian’s bouncers sail through the air, his massive body arcing high before crashing into the two fighters inside the ring.
What the hell?
And then I saw him.
Derek stood at the entrance to the fighter’s walkway, and the world stopped turning.
Dark jeans clung to his powerful thighs like a second skin, a white button-down stretching across his broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up to expose the corded muscles of his forearms. Power radiated off him in waves, his presence filling the space even from this distance. But it was his expression that grabbed me by the throat. Pure, raw fury carved into every line of his face, every inch of his body. He was wrath personified, a wolf in barely human skin hunting for something that belonged to him.
He prowled into the club with the deliberate, fluid grace of an apex predator. Each step declared ownership of the ground beneath his feet. His gray eyes swept the room with cold calculation. He looked dangerous, determined, absolutely lethal—and so beautiful it hurt.
The crowd parted instinctively, prey animals recognizing a predator in their midst. Then whispers rippled outward as bouncers and fighters moved to intercept him. Derek’s lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile, more like a promise of violence that he would enjoy.
My heart slammed painfully against my ribs, each beat thundering in my ears. Heat flooded my body. Why now? When I’d finally convinced myself to leave, why did he have to stride in looking like every dark, dangerous fantasy I’d ever denied having?
His head snapped up suddenly—a movement so swift it blurred—his gaze cutting through the space between us like he knew exactly where I was. There was no way he could see me, not through the one-way glass, but I felt the heat and intensity of his stare burning straight through me. Hunger. Determination. Something possessive and wild that made my knees weak. Impossible—he couldn’t see me—but the connection burned between us, molten and undeniable. For that suspended moment, the world disappeared: no club, no crowd, no past between us, just Derek and me locked in a gaze that scorched away every defense I’d built.
Then the spell shattered as fighters swarmed him from all sides, a tide of muscle and violence converging on a single point. He disappeared beneath them, swallowed by the mass of bodies.