His Innocent Mate (Unforgiven Country 1)

1

Kendra

I step into Billy’s Burnout Bar, my heart racing as I look around.

I still don’t know why I decided to come to Billy’s, aside from the fact I know the only man I’ve ever loved will be here.

The bar is packed, the jukebox in the corner blasting out some old country song. There are a few couples dancing on the worn and scuffed-up wooden floor, their boots making this clacking sound that can be heard over the music and conversation that fills the small interior.

It has been years since I’ve been back to Billy’s, since I’ve even stepped foot in the small town of Unforgiven Country. But with a name like that, who would want to come back?

I take several more steps inside, the front door closing behind me, my shoes crunching on the peanut shells that litter the floor. Billy’s is the local hangout in Unforgiven, actually, the only place anyone ever goes to let loose. It is situated right on the outskirts of town, and because of that, local law enforcement doesn’t bother this place or the patrons who frequent it. Here, there are a different set of laws and shifters enforce them, not the cops.

The town is too small, too close-knit to have any big chain businesses setting up. Everything is a mom and pop shop, and Billy’s is no different.

I knew he would be here. It’s the place where he hung out back in the day, a place most shifters frequent.

I look around the interior of the bar, some people I recognize. I don’t know if they’ll realize who I am. I’ve certainly changed since last time I was here.

Gone is my long, dark red hair, and in its place is a bob cut, dyed brunette.

New life. New city. New me.

Or at least that was my thinking when I left.

I push my bangs out of my eyes and scan the room. The music is so loud, the volume of the people laughing and talking giving me a headache. I close my eyes and inhale deeply. Exhaling slowly, I open up my mind and search out who I’ve come here to see.

Wyatt.

The man—wolf shifter—I’ve always loved.

He is also the one person I will never admit my feelings to. How can I? Wyatt is in line to be the Alpha of his pack. He’s expected to mate with one of his own kind. I’ve known that all along, but that didn’t stop my feelings for him from growing. It doesn’t stop this deep yearning and attraction I have for him. I’m not sure anything can.

Wyatt has always had this edge to him, has kept to himself, and I’ve always wanted him as mine, even though it is impossible. An Alpha wolf shifter and a psychic? The whole pack would revolt. I’m an outsider, but I know how things are done. I might love Wyatt, but he is not mine to have.

My dreams of being mated to Wyatt, of having children with him, a life … they’re just ridiculous fantasies. Or at least that’s what I’ve told myself, how I’ve talked myself out of telling him how I feel.

Instead of being honest with him and saying screw all the what-ifs, I ran from this place, from him.

Maybe we aren’t the best of friends, but I trusted him more than I ever have anyone in my life. So, I told him I needed to see the world, to find myself. And although I saw something move across his face, an expression that would forever be ingrained in my head, he let me go.

He let me do what I needed to do.

No stopping me.

No trying to talk me out of it. So, I took that as a sign.

Right then and there, I told myself it was best to keep how I felt to myself. Because if not, he would have broken my heart right in two. If Wyatt shared my feelings at all, he wouldn’t have let me walk away. I might not be a shifter, but I know that once they find their mate, they never let them go.

So, for the past two years, I’ve regretted leaving every single day, even if getting out of Unforgiven took me away from a controlling, drunken mother, and no opportunity.

I let my mind wander, open it up so I can hear the things people are saying, but not out loud.

The majority of what people think is about sex, drinking, and the simple pleasures of giving themselves over to someone. My gift—or at times a curse—allows me to hear what others think. Sometimes it is too much, a burden, something I wish I had never been born with. Other times it gives me insight into how to react to someone, how to approach things.

And right now, I count this as a gift as I sift through the sexual thoughts, the visual flashes of images that fill my head.