Untamed (Rejected Mate Academy #1) - E. M. Moore Page 0,2
taught pack above all else. We’re taught pack before family even. The greater good. As the elder turns the corner, I don’t know when I’ll see someone from Lunar again. It doesn’t matter that I disgusted him, my instincts warn me that this is wrong.
“You’re going to be fine, dear,” Ms. Ebon states. Her voice is sharp yet even. She has naturally thin lips with large eyes. Her straight hair is silky smooth, parted down the middle in long sheets like cascading water.
I watch her, my naturally suspicious nature rising to the surface. I’ve never been at home in my own pack, but I’m not sure I can trust this woman either.
She tugs the neck of her buttoned shirt down, revealing her brand, and my lips part in recognition. I have the same exact black, quarter moon mark on my clavicle. However, while hers is aged, mine sits stark in comparison. For most of my life, I hated the damn birthmark. Loathed it to my very core. Yet today, it’s oddly comforting.
“I’m the Lunar students’ advisor because I’m from Lunar Pack. The seven other advisors at Greystone represent their own packs as well.” Stepping back, she gestures toward her office. It’s a large space, filled to the brim with bookshelves and a huge, wooden desk. “Do sit in the chair just there.”
Two eggplant upholstered chairs with high backs face each other. Pintucks gather fabric together under glassy, circle ornaments. It looks too nice to sit in but I do as I’m told anyway.
She takes a seat in the fancy chair opposite mine, her discerning gaze traveling down the length of me. I place my hands on the arm rests, attempting casual when this day has been anything but. In fact, it’s arguably the worst day of my entire life. I just happen to be truly gifted at separating my emotions from my actions. A lesson taught to me at a very young age by my wolfpeers.
Her brow wrinkles. “You are an odd one, aren’t you?”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“My new students are usually crying by now.”
I scoff. “Because one self-absorbed asshole goes against his basic instinct and rejects the one thing that’s supposed to be fated in our entire lives? Gee, I can’t imagine why.”
The corners of her mouth quirk. “Yes, that about sums it up nicely. Most pups take it harder than you.”
I relax back into the chair. “If you’re expecting waterworks, save your tissues. I learned long ago that tears don’t solve anything.” I pretend like I’m not studying her, but I am. When I’m around another wolf in my pack, I’ll usually recognize them as such—an inherent sixth sense that everyone in Lunar is born with. With Ms. Ebon, I don’t get anything, and a piece of me wonders if it’s because I’ve already separated myself from Lunar? Have I pushed my wolf so deep down that I can’t feel my pack anymore? I wish the elder was still here so I could reach out to see if I’m going crazy.
“Excellent,” Ms. Ebon notes. “Consoling is my least favorite part of the job. Perhaps we’ll get right down to the business part then, shall we?”
A wave of trepidation hits me. Knowing I’d most likely end up here did nothing to prepare me. Wolf reform is about as vague of a descriptor as you can get. And in all honesty, Jonah—
My wolf lets out a howl of anguish. I moan, my fingers curling into the arm of the chair. I’d forgotten to curb my thoughts, and the despair drives into me so quickly I double over.
The truth is, I’d never felt anything like it before. The true bliss of shifting for the first time coupled with the overwhelming call of nature. The sense of family with my pack. Then, the hint of the most delectable smell on the wind. Pawing through the grass as fast as I could until I spotted him. A deep russet, shaggy coat. His ears alerted, and the most overpowering warmth cocooned me in acceptance and love. A feeling so foreign that it buckled all four of my legs, bringing me to the forest floor.
All rational thought left. Everything I’d told myself not to do. Don’t track. Don’t look. Don’t let your guard down. My wolf had taken over, and she found him. Her mate. Her fate.
His rebuff will mark the lowest point of my life ten times over. A hundred times over.