Obsession: A Rejected Mate Shifter Romance (The Mate Games #1)(47)

Moira twirled a lock of hair around her finger, then released it, over and over as she let my words sink in. “Remind me why you rejected him? I’ve always heard it was nearly impossible for mates to avoid the pull.”

Memories of that day swirled through my mind, filling me with guilt and shame once more. “Because in order to accept the bond, you have to shift. And I couldn’t. Rejecting him was the only way to protect my family’s legacy. Not that it mattered in the end. Word got out anyway, but it was the only thing I could do to try and prevent that from happening.”

“I see. And what happens once your wolf finally appears? Will you reject him again?”

No, my wolf vehemently protested. She wanted our mate. If she was the one to choose, it wasn’t a choice at all.

“I never really thought about it, to be honest. I mean, I didn’t expect him to want me after that, so what did it matter?”

She shrugged and got to her feet, her layers upon layers of bracelets filling the air with a metallic jangle. “I suppose if I knew someone was my mate, even though I rejected them once . . . or in your case, eleventy-billion times, I’d want to be on good terms with them. Because it sounds like he’s never going to not be yours.”

I opened my mouth to argue and then immediately closed it again. I hated to admit it, but the witch had a point. “There’s just so much bad blood between us now. Can we really just pretend all that never happened?”

“No. I never said you should pretend it didn’t happen. That part of your story is written. But the rest is still blank, and you are in charge of where it goes.” She winked. “To a point. There are some things fate has sway over. He’s acting like a wounded animal. Lashing out, protecting himself from a threat. I wouldn’t let what happened when he was hurt keep you from giving him a chance to prove himself worthy of you now. You were teenagers then. A lot can happen to change someone over the years.”

I hadn’t ever stopped to consider the reason Kingston had said such awful things. I assumed, perhaps naively, that it was bruised pride. But was it possible he’d been hurt? Something shifted in me at the possibility. Was I the bad guy here? All this time, I’d painted Kingston as the villain, but maybe it was me.

Fuck. And then I had to go rub salt in the wound time and time again when all he was doing was listening to the instincts of his wolf trying to repair things with his mate.

Guilt started to eat at me. I worried at my bottom lip, casting Moira a sideways glance. “I think I, uh, might have overreacted. Maybe. Just a little.”

“I’d be inclined to agree.”

Ouch. Couldn’t she sugarcoat it, even just to spare my feelings? Then an even worse thought took hold. Crap.

“I’m going to have to apologize to him, aren’t I?”

“Sorry, but yeah.”

She murmured a soft incantation under her breath, and a small kitchen appeared in the corner of our room. I swear she made the space bigger somehow. The countertop was filled with containers of sugar, flour, cocoa, butter, and anything else someone might need for baking.

“Um, did I just step into an episode of Bake Off? What’s happening?”

“Oh, hush, babycakes. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Especially a wolf. Make him lick the icing off your cupcakes, and he’ll come around.”

“And by cupcakes, are you speaking figuratively, or . . .”

Moira winked. “Maybe if you’re lucky, he’ll lick both. Now get that sweet ass over here and start measuring.”





Two hours later, I strolled down the hall on the second floor, where I knew his room was. My palms were sweaty as I held the platter filled with chocolate cupcakes, complete with a cherry center. He might laugh in my face or throw the cupcakes in the trash, but at least I tried. When I reached his dorm room door, I forced myself to take a deep breath and shore up my confidence. I was a strong, capable, badass bitch. I could do this.

The door swung open before I could knock a third time, revealing a shifter I’d seen Kingston with before. I believed his name was Derek. He gave me a lazy grin, his white teeth bright and perfectly straight. I bet his dad was a dentist or something.

“Hello there, princess. What in the world brings you here?” He took a long sniff of the air around me. “Mmmm, you smell delicious.” His pitch dark eyes flashed with mischief.

Since the last thing I needed was another eager male sniffing around my lady parts, I glanced around him, trying to peer over his wide shoulders. “Is Kingston here? I baked these for him.”

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his insanely large arms over his chest. The dark tattoos swirling around his biceps and shoulder nearly blended in with his warm brown skin. “He’s not here. He went out to the clearing to work off some . . . tension. Maybe you should come in, and we can pretend you baked them for me. I’m much more fun.”

Even though he could give Michael B. Jordan a run for his money in the looks department, there wasn’t even the flicker of a spark. Which was a bit of a relief. I had my hands full enough trying to juggle the men I already had in my life. I didn’t need to add anyone else to the roster.

“That’s probably true, but I’m not interested.” I gave him a sweet but firm smile. “Can you just make sure he gets these?”