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57. Cassie
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His Unlovable Mate 58. Cassie
It’s been almost a week. Every night, I go to bed, still in Mrs. Berrybrows' comfortable guest room, I try to ignore the curling fear in my stomach. Where is he? I should have asked him to mark me before he left. Not for any stupid schemes with Elle, but so I could know, within my soul, that he was safe. He could be captured in Kallio. Drowned in that awful, lethal river. What if Elle has rounded up all the exiles and there is no sign of Robyn, Corbin, and the others to be found anywhere?I pull open the curtains and stare up at the night sky. The clouds are thickening, barely any sun got through today. I can hear everyone in the pack commenting on it as they potter by. Then, the saner part of me reminds me that Ayr is a grown man. Thirty years old. Strength of a god, or so it feels when he flings me into the air. Capable of leading hundreds of Betas into war. Survived perfectly fine on his own before I came along mere months ago. Meaning deep down, I’m worried because I wasn’t do
His Unlovable Mate 59. Ayr
My wolf is one stubborn mutt. They could tell I had one eye on finding the exiles. And they weren’t having it for a second. Not one single dream for the first five nights. I got to gasp at our sheer speed and vicious hunting prowess. The majesty of nature and all those things someone more artistic than me would enjoy. But I’m on a schedule. Cass is waiting for me. If I'm gone too long she’ll go it alone. She wants the legitimacy of taking over in front of every other Alpha, clearing her name. Next week is her shot. At least, after almost drowning, yet again, the woods in the north of Kallio were quiet enough. Enough caves and ditches to tuck into at night. Nestling down, breathing slowly, I warned my wolf on the sixth evening. This was his last chance. I need to know. Whatever the truth may be.What a foolish declaration that was. With a low, rumbling growl, my wolf buried its head down and hurtled us into black, swirling nothing. An overwhelming landslide of information hit. Life
His Unlovable Mate 60. Ary
“Do we have a problem, Corbin?” I grunt, shrugging the heavy black shirt over my head. “Because when Cass defeats Elle, I’ve suggested you should be her Beta. I’ve heard nothing but excellent things about you?” He shook his head and gestured to the right of the fire. Dozens of men in sleeping bags, blankets, and even straw piled high. They’re living rough. “Excellent? Look at this place. We’re on the run. We are all waiting for Cassie. We believe she’s going to come through, take her throne. I’ve got a few men itching to defect for a shot at trying to find the gold she’s stashed on the coast though.” “How many?” “At least a dozen. Silver brands aren’t a personality trait, but you tell someone they’re scum long enough they’ll start acting like it.” Corbin and Raphael would find lots in common. Both are so steady and serious. No interest in gossip. I noticed Corbin’s aged, brittle chainmail over his grey long-sleeved top, his boots in need of repair. Maybe Volare can help with some
His Unlovable Mate 61. Ayr
Fed, Robyn turned her back so I could assist with her corset ribbons. “Cass gave me this dress. It’s a shame to ruin it.” “We have lots more back in Volare, don’t worry. I intend to sort out your brother and his shitty boots too,” I reply gruffly. She smothers a laugh. “True, they are falling apart.” I noticed her silver mark, very faint, like spatters of rainfall working down her lower back. Graceful and delicate, like the dancer she was born to be. Instead of stripping off, I just shredded the clothes I stood in, allowing my ashy brown wolf to rise once more. With the gathering grey clouds ahead, we sprinted. Robyn’s wolf was excitable, sprinting and darting all over to find more obstacles to fly over. Finally, we reached the river. Our enthusiasm ground to a halt. Rainfall has churned up the rapids into a sea of white, raging foam. Robyn’s brown wolf’s paws skitter nervously at the edge. Peering down the black rocks, trying to judge a crossing. I let out a little bark of warni
His Unlovable Mate 62. Cass
The six of us are trapped in an awkward stand-off. Nearly all of my joy at seeing Ayr has diverted into guilt about Robyn’s life being put in danger. Nearly all. As soon as she started hacking up water, I allowed myself to enjoy the fizzing sparks. The temptation to deny him a blanket was unreal. Then Robyn said that tiny, potentially friendship-shattering word. Still staring at the ground, frozen by an emotion I can’t even begin to guess at. Marcus’s mouth hangs open. He’s still holding onto her hand. Like he can will the Goddess into changing her mind. I don’t need to be on the Volare mindlink to know that Lucas is currently screaming SHIT SHIT SHIT at Ayr. I just grip Ayr a little tighter, press his hand harder across my stomach. We all just assumed. I completely forgot that a mate bond doesn’t play by our human expectations. They obviously liked each other. We all watched her eyes light up as he announced himself. Robyn, not jumping into bed with Marcus, perhaps gave him t
His Unlovable Mate 63. Robyn
From what I’ve heard, the overwhelming feeling you get when your mate bond clicks into place, shouldn’t be guilt. Shame from having blatantly desired another man, his best friend, by the looks of it. A man I hadn’t looked twice at. I only stumbled because I was rushing to get to Marcus.How stupid can you get? Now I’m walking hand in hand with a stranger. Far ahead of us, Cass and Ayr dived into an embrace. Easy and natural, his arms clamped her to him whilst her arms snaked carefully around the scars on his neck, into his hair. Not even caring who saw. Even though the clouds are dark grey and ominous, I swear the patch of land they stood on seemed brighter. It's clear Ayr adores her, not that he said much. But his face just lifted whenever Cass came into our hiking chats.So where do I go from here? Because I'm definitely not beaming like Cass.My mate, apparently called Raphael, is holding my hand but not tightly as we slowly walk. If I gave the slightest tug of resistance, I k
His Unlovable Mate 64. Cass
Asking Ayr to tell me what happened with his wolf felt like I’d thrown cold water all over our reuniting. Instead of pulling me back to him for another kiss, he got all serious. “I think we better get some privacy,” he muttered. “And some clothes for you, unless you fancy living like this full time?” trying to lift his mood back up. But it was gone. The change made my heart sink, his eyes narrowing with thought. Maybe he failed to connect with his wolf. I'm sure he tried his best. “Shit, yeah, clothes,” Ayr replies half-heartedly, My mate is seriously distracted. At the packhouse, every person gives him enthusiastic smiles, pleased at his return. He should be buoyed upwards. Instead, he just keeps a tight hold on my hand and leads me up the now-familiar dark wooden corridor up to his bedroom suite. Back inside, Ayr dives into a steaming shower. I sit on the desk and give him a minute. I don’t think he’ll like all my ideas, but some risks just have to be taken. When he emerges
His Unlovable Mate 65. Ayr
Hours later, there is nothing more to work out. Just a grey stone floor, covered in chalk. Circles, crosses, swooping arrows. Angry crossings out. Papers scattered. Wet spatters where the occasional tear had fallen. Cass is steel and fury on the outside. Inside she’s so fucking hurt. So easy to injure. I should know, I’ve been responsible for a chunk of that pain. This is why I am ruthlessly determined to prove to her that this can work. Eventually, she nodded and whispered. “That’s it. That’s how we’ll do it.” "You really need Dominic's head?" "Yes I really fucking do," she answered archly.Cass is right. She can't do everything alone. Not only does Elle have the Kallio guards, but she also has the Elders. They might be older, draped in stinking robes but they will defend their treacherous bitch of a Luna to the death. The stone floor resembles a giant chess game. Anticipation of Elle’s actions, the movement of gossip and rumour across multiple packs. What we have seen in histor
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