Never His Mate: a Rejected Mates Shifter Romance (Claws and Fangs Book 1)
Chapter 1

Oh, I shouldn’t be doing this.

Even as I throw my Jeep into park, I know this is a bad idea. Hell, for all of her instigating, I doubt Trish ever dreamed she’d get such a reaction out of me—which just goes to show that none of my new packmates know me half as well as they think they do.

I glare through my windshield, heart pounding like a drum in my chest as my shifter’s sight zeroes in on the homey-looking structure tucked along the edge of the woods. My pulse thuds, blood racing through my veins, and if I didn’t have ironclad control over my inner wolf, my leather steering wheel would be nothing but shreds courtesy of my claws. Even so, it takes everything I have to hold her back just a little longer.

Just a little longer, girl, because I’m here.

Now, the first time I’m meant to step foot inside of the Alpha’s cabin is directly after we’ve performed the Luna Ceremony that would tie me to him for life as his bonded mate. So even though I was brought to Accalia to do just that, I’ve only ever seen his cabin from a distance.

Until today.

Until right this very moment.

Pack law is crystal clear. The moon might have whispered that I’m to be his intended, but I’m still an outsider until we’ve accepted the mating bond, done the deed, and received the moon’s blessing. The Alpha’s cabin is sacred, even more so to the Mountainside Pack. Since I arrived last month, I haven’t been allowed to forget it.

Is that going to stop me from crashing their council meeting?

No fucking way.

Because I’m furious but not a moron, I parked my packed-up car about a half a mile away from the cabin. My trusty Jeep has every single thing I own in it, with a change of clothes sitting on the passenger seat in case this whole thing goes sideways. As a wolf shifter, I can go from skin to fur and back with barely any effort. My clothes, though? They never survive the shift, and I’d rather not flee for my life wearing nothing but my birthday suit, thank you very much.

I glance at the jeans I picked out, broken in though none of my Mountainside packmates have ever seen me in them. The tank top that leaves my arms loose and limber. The sturdy boots should I have to get out and go on foot…

Yeah, I’m pretty sure this is going to go sideways.

And… that’s still not going to stop me.

I leave the keys in the ignition. No reason to fear that the Jeep will be gone when I get back. My scent clings to the car, and considering my status in the pack, it doesn’t matter that I’m still an outsider. To mess with me is an insult to the Alpha, and for as long as the rest of Accalia believes that, I’m going to use it to my advantage.

Though my wolf wants out—wants to break free and take off into the night, the moon bathing her fur as she outruns the sting of rejection—I tighten my reins on my other half.

Not yet, I tell her. Soon, but not yet.

I don’t run, but I eat up the ground anyway. As much as it hurts, I can follow the echoes of the mating bond right to the cabin; even if pack gossip didn’t tell me that he was in a meeting with his council, I would know exactly where to find him through the whisper-thin thread stretched between us. From the moment I switched packs, coming to Accalia to stay with the Mountainside Pack ahead of our mating, I’ve been constantly aware of him.

Ryker Wolfson. My fated mate, and Mountainside’s Alpha.

The only difference between his cabin and the rest of ours is its location, its seclusion. Built on the edge of pack territory specifically for the Alpha, its resident is our first line of defense. A non-packmate—human, vamp, or another kind of shifter—would have to go past it if they wanted to reach Accalia. With his impressive senses and overwhelming strength, any threat who hopes to get to the heart of the pack has to go through Ryker first.

Right now, that sounds like a plan to me.

I don’t go in through the front. Not because I’m wary of breaking pack law or because I’m trying to be sneaky—growing up the adopted daughter of the Lakeview Pack’s Alpha, I know plenty of tricks to avoid being caught—but for the simple reason that I can sense Ryker and his council gathered near the back. Of course. As territorial as we shifters are, he would keep the rest of the pack out of his personal space: his bedroom, his living room, his kitchen. Only his mate is allowed to enter the Alpha’s cabin—which, I remind myself again, is precisely why I’m not supposed to be here.

But the den? That’s where my dad always held his meetings, a space that was considered a refuge for any packmate in need. How much do I want to bet that Ryker’s setup is the same?

It’s a loophole. I admit it.

Gonna take it anyway.

Still following the whisper-thin bond leading me toward him, my senses start to ping when I find the closed door attached to the back of the towering cabin. I grab the handle, prepared to snap the lock if I have to; it’s bad etiquette and my mother would be ashamed, but she’d understand once I explained myself. I don’t have to break it, though. The door’s unlocked, an open invitation to all of Accalia to meet with the Alpha.

Gotcha.

I throw open the door, letting the weak moonlight silhouette me against the night.

All conversations stop. There are—through my angry haze, I do a quick headcount—eight other males in the room apart from Ryker. They’re all standing, some prowling around the space, others braced with their legs apart, arms crossed over their chests. Ryker’s Beta, Shane, has his hip cocked against the desk across the room, obviously in the middle of saying something. I’ve definitely interrupted them, but I can’t bring myself to care.

Only one shifter in the office setup is seated. With a window at his back, a broad mahogany desk stretched in front of him, and his feet propped up on the edge as he leans lazily in his deep, leather chair, Ryker commands the council’s complete attention even as he listens intently to whatever it is Shane was saying.

Or, he did.

As soon as the door swings open, every head shoots my way. No one says anything, and if they did, I’m not listening. All of my attention is focused solely on the Alpha now.

Ryker Wolfson is a young Alpha. Only twenty-seven, he’s just coming into his prime, but he’s nothing if not strong. Powerful. And, Luna help me, gorgeous. He has the dark gold eyes typical to our kind, with a rich tan that makes them pop. Unlike most shifters, though, he wears his hair cropped short; it looks black, but I know it’s really a rich brown color when he lets it get shaggy. A perennial five o’clock shadow highlights the sharp edge of his jaw while his lush lips provide a hint of softness to a deliciously hard male.

Those lips are pulled in a tight frown when he realizes that it’s me. With a deceptively graceful swivel, he moves his boots from his desk, perching them on the floor as he moves forward in his seat.

Shane Loup is about the same age as Ryker; pack gossip says that he got the Beta position because he’s Ryker’s closest friend which is surprising considering he’s as much of an outsider as I am. Some of the elders thought Ryker should pick someone with more experience to be his righthand wolf, but Shane accepted the nod when Ryker took over the pack at the beginning of the year.

Since Ryker’s been too busy for me lately—at least, that’s what I thought before tonight’s unexpected conversation with Trish—Shane’s been the one to help me get settled in at Accalia. He’s a nice guy. Easy on the eyes, too, with his dirty blond hair and a pair of cute dimples, but I know better than to think he’s harmless. He’s devoted to Ryker and the Mountainside Pack, and as if he can sense that trouble’s brewing, he moves to intercept me.

I tap into my wolf, letting out some of the dominance I rarely rely on.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, brow furrowed as he starts to cross the room before stopping so suddenly, it’s like someone has yanked his chain. Yeah. Me. Frowning, he says, “You should go back to your cabin, Gem.”

Yup. Probably should.

I leave the door open behind me and, bringing a smile to my face, I enter the room.

Except for Shane, the crowd parts easily, just like I expect. These wolves masquerading as men respond to me, even if they don’t know why, and it’s not like they haven’t treated me like this since I arrived on the mountain. A little bit reverence, a little bit respect, and a whole lot of keeping their distance.

Of course they do. I’m an omega wolf. I’m a docile lamb. I’m their Alpha’s intended⁠—

Ha.

Shame that not a single one of those is true. And, as I stride toward that desk, I’m so far past caring about any future repercussions that I let the old illusion slither down my straight spine. I won’t let my wolf out just yet, but I’m done hiding my alpha side.

My flats slap against the tile. As a shifter, I know how to move soundlessly. The noise is purposeful. If the buzz of my aura hasn’t snagged their attention already, the anger in my heavy step certainly will.

The other shifters follow my every move—and not because they’re picking up on the fact that I might be a threat. They won’t. Not yet, at least.

Not until it’s too late.

I know what they see when they look at me. Minimal make-up to highlight my pretty honey-colored eyes and my high cheekbones. The flats that make me seem more petite than I really am. I have my hair styled in loose, flowy curls, though I draw the line at a hair bow these days. I’m even wearing a floral-printed sundress putting just the right amount of leg on display for May. And, sure, it gets pretty chilly on the mountain at night, but shifters usually run hot. Me? I run hotter than most even when I’m not this pissed off. Now? I’m burning up, and a dress like this is exactly what they expect from the type of wolf I’ve spent my whole life passing as.

Everything—from the blonde curls to the dress, right down to the non-threatening flats—is designed to fool their senses. Even my name was picked to be as gentle as possible. Gemma Swann… who can be afraid of a pretty blonde called Gemma Swann?

I’ve been doing this my whole life. When I was too young to understand, my mother hid what I was. Now it’s up to me. No one can know that I’m not an omega like she is, and even though I’m beginning to have a harder time staying in control, I have to remember that.

Good thing I have a lot of practice.

Shifters are unique among supes. We have two souls inside of one form: our human half and our beast. To make their wolves ignore what they can sense about me, I have to make their human halves believe what they see.

I’m a doll. A toy. So very breakable.

By the time they realize I’ve been hiding in plain sight, it’s too late. The claws are already out.

At this very second, I mean that literally.

Now that my steering wheel isn’t in any danger of being destroyed, I let loose my claws. Gone are the short nails painted in a prim shade of dusty rose pink. In their place, three-inch-long lethal claws curve around my fingertips, waiting to be used.

But I don’t. Not yet. Not until I hear about his betrayal right from Ryker Wolfson’s lips.

Like I said. I’m not a moron.

“Gemma.” The way that Ryker says my name has always done something to me. He has this raspy voice that washes over me, making me want to curl up and purr like a house cat. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

Of course he wasn’t. After all, this is the first time that I’ve come to his cabin and every single wolf in the room knows it.

“I need to talk to you.”

“We’re in the middle of something⁠—”

Ryker lifts his hand. Shane goes quiet.

“I’m almost finished here,” Ryker says to me. “We can talk then, unless it can keep ’til morning.” He tilts his head slightly. “Can it?”

You know what?

“No. Sorry. I don’t think so.”

He searches my face. I’m not giving anything away, and he eventually nods. “That’s fine. Why don’t you wait for me outside and I’ll come get you when the meet’s done.”

Wait for him outside? Luna forbid I get to sit inside and witness what happens when the inner circle gets together. And going into another part of the cabin? Of course that’s out of the question since I’m not his mate yet.

If Trish is right, I might never be.

I shake my head. “No need for that. I’ll be quick. It’s about Trish.”

Trish Danvers. One of the pack females, she ranks higher than most of the others—but not as high as me and she knows it. With a sweet smile and hatred in her soft brown eyes, she’s had it out for me from the moment I arrived in Accalia.

I can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.

Behind me, someone draws a sharp breath at her name. Another of the council members mutters a curse. Since it’s not Ryker, I ignore them. I’d rather do this without an audience, but if I have to? Oh, well. I told him I couldn’t wait, and I refuse to be sent outside like a trouble-making child.

“Trish?” His tone is neutral. “What about her?”

The tips of my claws prick the fleshy part of my palm. I try to relax my fingers before I stab myself, but just the casual way he says her name like that has my hackles rising. “I’m your intended,” I say softly. Softly because, if I don’t force myself to keep to a whisper, I’ll start shouting. “Is she your chosen?”

Because that’s exactly what she tossed in my face moments before I threw her out of my cabin. I tried not to let it bother me, but I stewed over it for hours before I realized that while Omega Gem might take that lying down, I can’t.

I just can’t.

Ryker leans back in his seat. “I don’t think this is the right time to have this conversation.”

Oh? That’s funny. Because I think it’s the perfect time.

“I told you. It can’t wait.”

Shane clears his throat. “Ryker. Alpha. This seems like this is between you and your mate. Maybe we can have this meeting tomorrow, leave you two together to hash this out.”

“No.” My voice is a little stronger. Not a shout since I’m struggling for control, but loud enough for the rest of the room to hear. “As I’ve been told too many times since I’ve arrived, I’m not his mate.”

Yet is how I always understood it, but I’m beginning to think I was wrong.

Ryker raises his eyebrows. “What do you mean by that?”

How can he ask me that? He has to know that there are more than a few of his—excuse me, our—packmates who don’t think I’m a good match for their Alpha. Trish is just the one who was bold enough to give me the reason why.

“I won’t be your bonded mate until the Luna Ceremony,” I remind him. “But I’m beginning to doubt that’s ever happening. So, tell me, Ryker. Is that something we’re actually going to do? Or are you just stringing me along?”

“I never⁠—”

He did. Maybe he isn’t aware that that was what he was doing, but he did.

I swallow a growl. “Answer the question.” And then, because I might be an alpha, but so is he, I add, “Please.”

Accepting the please as his due, Ryker scratches the underside of his jaw. “Are you asking me if we’re having the ceremony during the next full moon?” At my nod, he says, “That’s three days from now.”

No shit. Every single one of us knows the cycles of the moon intimately. As shifters, we can change shapes whenever we want, but we’re so much closer to our beasts when the moon hangs high in the sky. Mates will rut like wild animals, young pups might finally trigger their first change, and it doesn’t take much for the wolf to take charge.

I know when the next full moon is. What I don’t know is if he actually plans on going through with the ceremony.

Despite how they feel about me being Ryker’s intended, every new packmate I’ve met this past month has gone out of their way to assure me that the ceremony is happening during the next full moon even though there hasn’t been any planning for it. To a shifter—especially when one was the Alpha—the Luna Ceremony is like a highly anticipated human wedding. There should have been some planning involved, right?

Then again, the lack of it makes total sense if he’s trying to weasel his way out of the deal he made with my dad. Ryker agreed to bond with me because I’m supposed to be his fated mate. But what good is that if he already has a mate he chose for himself?

I need to know. I need to hear it from him.

“Yes.”

“No.”

I refuse to let him see how much that simply stated no tears at me.

“Because of Trish?” I ask.

His face is expressionless as he thinks it over for a moment. And then⁠—

“Yes.”

He’s… he’s not lying.

And I would know. Deception has a stink of its own, and I’ve always been able to tell when someone was being dishonest.

Call it a quirk of what I am. I don’t know—I can’t know since I’m the only female alpha I’ve ever met. My mom figured out that I was different when I was just a pup, and she spent the next twenty-five years protecting me from myself and my kind.

My whole life, it’s been drilled into me to keep my true rank a secret. In all of pack lore, there’s only been one other female alpha that I know of: the great Luna who is both our goddess and the moon incarnated into fur and skin. The stories about her are legend.

Like how she can control any packmate, including the Alpha, with a single howl. Or how any male she took to her lair became an alpha after she gifted him her body whether he was beta, omega, or rank and file wolf before she fucked him. Not to mention how the lucky wolf who she eventually accepted as her bonded mate became a god in his own right…

Is any of that true? Considering I’m still a virgin at twenty-five, I haven’t got a clue, and I never wanted to find out the morning after that sleeping with me did something to other wolf shifters. Not that that’s the only reason I’ve stayed away from casual sex, either. Ever since I was fifteen and I saw the seventeen-year-old future Alpha, I knew—just knew—that he was my fated mate. Fooling around with any other guy seemed like cheating to me when I’d end up Ryker’s forever mate sooner or later.

Damn shame he didn’t seem to think the same about me. How could he? He chose Trish.

Because he definitely wasn’t lying when he said that another pack female is the reason why our mating isn’t going to happen—just like how she was being truthful when she said that Ryker told her that he would stay away from me.

I didn’t want to believe it. After weeks of dealing with her snarls, her nasty whispers, and her dirty looks, I’d finally given in to my temper earlier when she showed up at my borrowed cabin. It was bad enough that she encroached on my territory, but she went a step too far when she smiled as she said that I was never going to be mated to Ryker.

She’d found a weak chink in my armor and gone straight for the kill. I was already a little worried that Ryker was having second thoughts. Getting cold paws, you know? I finally convinced myself that he wasn’t in any rush and that was okay—until Trish gleefully confessed that his hesitation had everything to do with him choosing her instead.

Because I might be his fated mate, but I’m not the one he wants. And until he performs the Luna Ceremony, I’m not his fully bonded mate—which leaves him free to be with anyone else.

I spent a decade waiting for Ryker, but he obviously didn’t wait for me. I can’t really blame him for that, though. It’s another one of those rare alpha female things, that I recognized him as mine long before the moon herself blessed the new Alpha with the name of his fated mate.

However, I can sure as hell blame him for letting me believe that my long wait was finally over. The adopted daughter of a pack leader, I always knew that a future Alpha’s mating was a pack affair. He wouldn’t take a bonded mate until he was installed as Alpha.

Which he was, months ago. And we’re still not mated.

Now I know that we won’t be.

So, trying in vain to ignore the way my heart feels like it’s shattering, I push for some kind of closure.

“You didn’t answer me before.” Call me a glutton for punishment, but I need this. “I’m supposed to be your intended. Do you actually plan on mating me at all or is this just some kind of joke?”

If so, I’m not laughing.

No one is.

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