Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Wolf’s Bullied Mate Chapter 16

Jada

"I have tea at home," he claimed. "I don't need to go to a damn shop."

But his protests hardly stopped me from shoving him into the passenger seat of my Jeep and driving him into town. Already at midmorning, the small town was alive with activity. People milled about the parks and gathered near the fountains to chat, play, host business meetings. Shops wore glittering signs in their sparkling windows that reflected the gorgeous sun.

With the top down and my arm hanging over the window, I felt like a million bucks. There really wasn't a good reason to feel that way either. It wasn't like I had solved every problem between Isaiah and me. I didn't think we had solved much of anything, actually, seeing as the conversation we just had consisted mostly of him telling me about his past.

Confidence was a welcome feeling. It swirled in my gut and circulated my body like some fresh dopamine from a completed task. The air was thick with salt and the scent of the city. Bagels, pastries, tea, humans-it was all there. And some patchouli too.

I glanced at Isaiah, who seemed unsure of himself. He never seemed quite sure of himself around humans. And I couldn't blame him for that. He probably hadn't had very good interactions with them either. But it was a fact of our shifter lives that we had to deal with humans. In many ways, they were largely harmless.

Until they found out about us, of course. I never had the misfortune of being outed by a human being, but I had heard the horror stories. Most of them were told by my friends' parents to keep us from sneaking off the ranch. It didn't matter how much I had grown. The fear existed in me. It dwelled just beneath the surface, reminding me to remain cautious.

Even now in broad daylight, I had great control over my wolf. Isaiah did as well. I could tell he had practice with control.

What was it about coffee that made him want to lose control?

When I pulled up to the tea shop, Isaiah gave me a wary look.

I laughed as I shut off the engine. "You have tea in your cabinet."

"That's for guests."

"You're telling me you don't like tea?"

He humphed while popping the door open and hopped out of the Jeep. Not that it took much hopping. He was tall enough to just step down from the Jeep. He rounded the back of the vehicle, opened my door, and held out his hand. "Let's go," he commanded, "before I change my mind."

I winked while taking his hand. "Yes, sir."

That made him blush. I couldn't believe my eyes at the sight of the red in his cheeks. It was probably the most adorable thing I had seen all day aside from my appearance in the mirror. I was wearing a tight white tank without a bra and loose cotton pants as per usual. Brown sandals wrapped around my ankles and the gold rings on my toes glittered in the morning light.

It was all the stuff he liked me wearing. I knew because he'd melted at the sight of me.

Odd how a night apart did more than forcing a conversation.

Maybe I owed him an apology for yesterday as well. "Izzy?"

He grabbed the door of the tea shop and opened it, guiding me in with a hand on the small of my back. "Yes, Jada?"

"I'm sorry about last night."

He bowed into the room, demanding audience from the patrons inside who gawked at his size. Surely they had seen a linebacker in their lives. That was what Isaiah looked like to me, anyway, and I didn't see what they were staring at.

Until I glanced back to see him glowering at the entire room.

I lightly elbowed his side, erasing the mean mug expression from his face and drawing a smile. Life resumed as normal once his face looked normal.

"Don't be so mean to the humans," I whispered at a volume that only he and animals could hear. "You're going to scare the poor things."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling like an earthquake through his chest as he rested his hand on his hip. "Now they won't think twice about picking on you."

I perked up. Did he mean that? I mean, these weren't the same people from back then. This was a totally different place, honestly. The middle school nearby was where all that nonsense had happened-and that was so long ago that I didn't think anybody would recognize me. Would they?

My confidence dwindled as we approached the counter. Despite the drop in self-assurance, having Isaiah's hand on my back made me feel better. I ordered a chai latte for Izzy and grabbed a strawberry iced tea with a lemon wedge sans the caffeine. As we waited for our drinks, he smoothed his hand up my spine.

Instant calm. The room faded away, allowing me to exist as I was instead of how I wanted to be perceived. Every so often, pride got the best of me, and I wanted to be looked upon with a certain air of respect. That meant occasionally projecting myself as stronger than I looked. But with Isaiah next to me, I didn't have to put on a performance. I just had to be myself.

I liked how sweet it felt.

Isaiah collected our drinks and chose a table for us near the window. Sun splashed over the table, making the wood warm under my hands. I spread my fingers wide and listened to the tea shop percolate with sounds around me. Smells came next. Then the feeling of uncertainty mixed with an awkward sense of self-consciousness.

That would be Izzy. "It's alright if you don't like it."

"I've just never had much tea in my life."

"Chai is the best if you want a kick." I grinned while lifting my iced tea. "I like sweet things."

His grin turned lopsided. "Is that why you don't like me?"

I sank into my chair. "Izzy, that's not true. I like you."

"But you can't stand me."

"I can't stand you lying to me and making me out to be some kind of monster."

He sighed. "I didn't mean to do that." His eyes shut abruptly and he shook his head once rigidly. "No, intention doesn't matter. I hurt your feelings. I'm sorry for that."

"Well, I think intentions do matter sometimes."

"Not in my book."

I cradled my tea, allowing the cool condensation around the plastic cup to soothe the heat that my skin absorbed from the table. In contrast, I placed my hands back on the table and focused on the feeling. It was a good grounding technique my mother had taught me as a kid. It was supposed to help with unwanted shifts.

Today, the grounding technique was useful for many things. Like having a particularly hard conversation with the man who was supposed to be my mate.

Are we still aiming for that? I thought. It's not like he said he was going to bite me or anything. Any time Blake asks about the ritual, he dodges the question. I don't know what to think anymore.

"Stop thinking," Isaiah said in a low, commanding voice. "You're muddying up your energy. Just let yourself sit for a while, Jada. You don't have to figure everything out right now."

I gaped at him. Had he...heard my thoughts? No, that wasn't possible. Shifters had always been capable of communicating with each other in their animal forms as part of the same pack, but I wasn't sure about mates specifically. There wasn't a lot of information on the subject as it pertained to modern-day mating.

My fingers returned to the cold plastic cup. I sipped my tea. Sweet strawberry and a zesty tang of lemon danced over my tongue. "Don't be silly."

"I can say the same to you."

"I'm just..." I looked out the window at all the people walking down the street with their simple lives and simple thoughts. Surely they had complications too. But not like this. Not tangling with the threads of fate. "I don't know." Isaiah nodded. "I get it. You don't want to be caught with your pants down."

I smirked bashfully. "I figured that's why you made an effort to come so quickly back in the tool shed."

He choked on a sip of his chai tea and then patted his chest as he coughed. When his fit had passed, he set his cup down and peered at me curiously. Moments later, a smile broke out on his lips. "You're devilish."

"I thought you'd like a joke to break up the tension."

"You knew what I needed."

I shrugged. "I took a guess. I don't know everything, Izzy. I just know that last night was..." I licked my lips and tried not to make eye contact. And I failed. "Last night, I didn't like sleeping away from you. It hurt." "It hurt me too."

"What are we going to do about that?"

He traced the lid of his cup. "We can get to know each other. We can be honest."

"I've been honest with you."

"About everything, Jada. Even the doubts."

Hearing that stung my heart. Did he know about all the doubts I had? Could he sense them? To meet his gaze was to know the answer intuitively. Yeah, he knew a lot of things. But he couldn't exactly read my mind. Just my energy. Was this part of the mating thing?

I rubbed my shoulder idly. "I guess we could start with our goals."

"I'd love to hear about everything you want to do with your life."

My back straightened. "You...You would?"

"I might be a jerk when you don't know me, Jada, but I'm loyal when you do know me. And if we're supposed to..." He lowered his voice. "If we're supposed to mate, then I suppose we should figure out how we're going to make that work." "You want this to work?"

He tapped the side of his cup. Oh, I didn't like that hesitation. Doubt crawled all over his aura, intensifying when he looked at me. But something else mingled with his anxiety, a yellow and light-brown hue that reminded me of corn. Was that hope? I breathed deep and sighed it out. "I guess I've always wanted to be a professional dancer."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's been a dream. I studied a bit but gave up when I started managing the field."

He frowned. "Why did you give up?"

"I couldn't manage my time." I laughed dryly. "Isn't that silly? A field manager who can't manage her time? Sheesh."

"What if you could keep studying dance? What would you do?"

I scratched the back of my neck. "I would love to study pedagogy. Maybe I'd join a group or something. I think shifters miss out on this kind of stuff because humans dominate the world currently."

"So, you want to teach shifters?"

"I think that'd be nice, yeah. Shifters who can be themselves in a space that's free of judgment and has more of their needs accommodated."

He sipped his chai. "That sounds honorable."

"That sounds silly." I waved it away, all of it. "Impossible. I'm good in the field. I should stick to what I'm good at."

"No way. You should go out and get what you want out of life."

I blinked rapidly. "What if that's also you?"

Gosh, I hadn't meant to just let that fly out of my mouth. But that was the thing about Isaiah-I just said things with him. I hardly gave it much reflection before letting my lips flap. That was why I had ended up calling him an idiot, which was probably the worst thing I had done in months.

Shame returned like the cold in the dead of night. I hugged my shoulders and leaned into the patch of sun liberally shining through the shop window. It felt nice to be doing something other than fieldwork. Maybe he had a point about the dancing stuff. Isaiah took my hand and swept his thumb over my wrist. He gave me a dashing smile that spoke of mischievous things. Also done in the dead of night. "Well, I've always supported the arts."

I chortled. "You're ridiculous."

"Was that a good joke? Did it help?"

"It helped some."

He snorted with amusement. "What else would help?"

"You're asking me?"

"Did you not just hear me ask?"

A playful grin exploded across my lips and practically cracked my face in half. I couldn't help it with Isaiah. It was easy to tease him and fluster him. It reminded me of the very beginning when we were banging each other like rabbits in heat. Could we get back to that? "I heard you loud and clear, sugar d**k." I squeezed his hand. "So, tell me about your goals."

He cleared his throat. "I haven't exactly thought about it since the medical lab bullshit."

"You must have something in mind."

"I have plenty in mind." His gaze darkened. "I miss my family."

I folded his hand between both of mine. "I'm sorry, Izzy. We don't have to talk if="

"I want to be whole again."

I looked into his eyes, noticing the genuine desire there to be fulfilled, inhaling the feeling of hope that lived in him. I recognized it as a reflection of my own.

"I want to..." He glanced around the tea shop. "I want to control my anger. Whatever that asshole of a doctor did to me f****d with my emotions."

"When you're ready, I know a pretty good crane psychologist who runs anger management for shifters."

He coughed into his hand. "Therapy?"

"Yes, therapy."

"That shit's for..." His eyes cut away from me, lingered on the window, and ultimately returned with a soft sheen of curiosity. "Well, there's no harm in trying, right? Maybe it's like a meeting or something." "Meeting?"

He gestured vaguely with his hand. "For like, addicts and stuff. I've been to a few different types. It's therapy inspired." He rolled his eyes. "Some of it is spiritual garbage though."

"Well, maybe Dr. Mercer can help. He's an atheist."

Isaiah brightened at the mention of that. While it was unusual for a shifter to have no spiritual beliefs whatsoever, it wasn't terribly unheard of. And maybe it was just the thing that Isaiah needed.

But it made me nervous. He hadn't been honest until it became a big deal. Would he be honest in therapy? I had to hope that it would work out.

And if it didn't? Well, I would cross that bridge if I got to it.