Rejected Mate (Feral Shifters 1)

“Really? How could anyone possibly not like you?” I drawl, venom dripping from every syllable.

Before I can say anything else or Frost can retort, someone appears in the doorway behind him.

Frost steps aside, farther into the room, and the newcomer pauses in the archway, his gaze searing through me.

My wolf howls.

I knew it.

My third mate

is here.

Chapter 9

My third mate steps into the room and crosses his arms over his thick chest, his gaze leveled on me.

He’s shorter than Kian and Frost, but his body is chiseled and muscular in all the right places in a way that makes his t-shirt look illicit. He has smooth, dark skin, short-cropped black hair, and thick eyelashes around the most vivid violet eyes. Tattoos identical to those on Kian and Frost paint up and down his arms and peek out from the collar of his shirt.

A new scent joins Frost’s spicy warmth—fresh air and sunshine. The smell of racing through the open plains, cool mountain wind in my fur and the Montana sun beaming down. Freedom and contentment. The new man’s scent wafts around me, mingling with Frost’s spicy warmth until I think I’m going to suffocate. My body reacts to this man with the same alarming need I’d had for Kian the night we met, and again last night for Frost.

I don’t like this unbidden reaction. My body is a fucking traitor, making me crave these men despite the fact that I’ve seen what they will do to the world if they’re allowed to continue. Kian rejected me, and I still want him. Frost kidnapped me in the woods and tied me to a bed, and as irritated as I am, I also want to spread my legs and beg him to take me, ropes and all.

This isn’t normal. I don’t care what shifter lore tells me. I don’t care that every elder in my life raised me to accept that one day, I’d find my mate and devote my life to that man.

I’ll never devote my life to anybody but myself.

I shove away every ounce of emotion their presence has raised in me. I shove away every tickle of need, every out of character desire to break free of my bonds and rub against them like a bitch in heat. I contain it all behind a glare and bare my teeth in welcome at my third mate.

For a long moment, we stare at each other. Me glaring, him calculating. His eyes are unreal. So bright they almost glow. He looks dangerous, and god help me, it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

Then a vivid white grin slashes across his handsome, rugged face. It wipes away the danger, replacing his serious expression with a teasing, carefree charm.

He lets out a long, low whistle as he falls into an easy stride across the room. “Look at you. You’re hot. You know that?”

“Malix,” Frost says warningly.

The man named Malix glances back at his friend with an unconcerned shrug. “What? She’s Grade A, prime cut. Bet she’d fall apart in our fucking teeth.”

I clench my jaw and bite out, “She’s also right here. Stop talking about me like I’m a piece of goddamn meat.”

Malix chuckles, and his gaze rakes up and down my restrained body. “Hm. Kitty’s got bite.” He turns to Frost. “You sure those knots are tight enough? I’m too pretty for cat claws.”

Fury makes my blood boil. I see what he’s doing—insulting me by calling me a cat, but playing it off like it’s a game. I snarl and tug against my restraints, catching his strange purple gaze. “I’m more wolf than you could ever dream to be, you asshole.”

Suddenly, the charming grin falls away from his face, and he levels a sharp look on me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that was hurt in his eyes. His next statement loses the casual charm and is more caustic, dismissive. “So this is our mate, then. Charmer.”

“I have no interest in being your mate or anyone else’s,” I retort coolly.

“Great,” Malix says, his teasing grin returning. “It would never work out between us anyway, kitty cat.”

Frost sighs. “Quit taunting her.”

“But it’s so much fun.” Malix smirks at me.

My head is spinning from the wild shifts in his moods. One moment charming and seductive, the next, frigid and serious. Then back to teasing with that devilish grin. It’s enough to drive a girl mad. If my hands were free, I’d gladly wrap them around his throat and squeeze the life out of him with a smile on my face.

Instead, I’m prone on a bed, completely at their mercy. For the moment.