Rejected Mate (Feral Shifters 1)

I giggle and hate the sound as soon as I make it. “Oh those are just my fri

ends.”

His dark brow rises toward his hairline. “Is one of ’em your boyfriend?”

That familiar pain pierces my chest—the pain of knowing that all three of them should be my mates, but aren’t. I keep my carefree expression painted in place and say, “Oh no, just friends. We’re traveling together. Looking to meet up with our other friend at that tree I mentioned.”

The guy laughs again, and he gets friendlier with his hand, letting his palm rest on my shoulder as he leans in to speak. “Baby, that tree isn’t real. Someone’s pulling your leg.”

“I’m sure it—”

“Listen, let me buy you dinner,” he says, cutting me off as if I haven’t said a word at all. “We can talk more about it over drinks.”

“That’s real nice of you,” I murmur, trying to keep the edge out of my voice.

“That’s because I’m nice.” He slides his palm up over my shoulder and around me, starting to ease me down the sidewalk. “You’ll like the pub. Great food, cheap drinks.”

Jesus. This guy definitely doesn’t know when to stop. If I weren’t trying to get information out of him, I would’ve planted my fist in his face the first time he put a hand on me.

I’m two seconds away from saying “fuck it” and laying him flat on his ass with a well-placed boot when his arm tenses around my shoulders.

I glance up to realize that all three shifters have come to join us on the sidewalk. They’ve fanned out around us, surrounding me and the overbearing guy. Their stony expressions haven’t changed since they crossed the street, but up close, they’re a little more terrifying.

The heavy weight of the man’s arm vanishes from my shoulders, and he scrams. Right off down the sidewalk in the opposite direction without another word.

Malix lifts his hand and crooks his pinky finger after the guy with a grin. “Bye.”

I punch him in the arm. “What the fuck, you assholes? I was getting good information from that guy.”

Kian scoffs and glances off over my shoulder. “He talked too much.”

I roll my eyes. “Maybe so, but in that ‘talking,’ he told me there’s a town weirdo who talks about magic and the end of days. Sounds like a promising lead.”

Frost cocks his head. “Did he tell you where we might find this man?”

I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. “He might have, if you neanderthals hadn’t scared him off with all your testosterone.”

Malix leers at me, then tosses his arm over my shoulders. “Hey, baby, let me buy you dinner…”

“Oh, and you were eavesdropping. Cute.” I shrug off his arm, my skin prickling with irritation and awareness at his presence. “Come on. Let’s find someone else to ask about Crazy Harry. And this time, don’t fucking scare them off until we find out what we need to know.”

Malix chuckles, and Kian takes the lead, striding off down the sidewalk.

I slow my pace and fall behind, giving myself some distance from the shifters. With a little space between us, I can allow myself to feel the emotions I shoved firmly away after they chased off our informant.

Shock.

Heat.

Confusion.

My mind whirls with all the conflicted feelings that have haunted me since Kian showed up at Joe’s Bar and Grill and turned my life upside down.

There was something almost... possessive about the way they converged on me and that man. The way they stared at him like they wanted to tear him limb from limb.

But that doesn’t make sense.

Why be possessive about something you don’t even want?