Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Bear’s Arranged Mate Chapter 12

Elva

The bed was empty when I woke up.

I flung my hand out to touch the sheets, noting how cool they were. Jermaine had likely gotten called into work early. Granted, he never actually took any time off. He simply did whatever he could do in his down time. Which seemed to be me, most of the time.

A smile slid over my lips as I rolled over. While leaning into a stretch, a yawn broke my smile, widening my mouth into a perfect round shape. The ceiling came into view. Then, the splash of sunlight across the ceiling registered. It was late in the morning.

Even though the two of us had fought off four dire wolves last night, my body felt better than ever. Where I would typically be sore, I didn't feel more than mildly inconvenienced. I slid from the bed, wrapped a robe around me, and wandered into the hallway, taking my time to get to the kitchen.

More light flooded my vision when I made it to the living room. Things sat in their usual spots, the brown rugs marking what little space was between couches, coffee tables, and gaming systems. A large television took up the far wall near the patio door. Next to that was a bookshelf that held just about every video game on the market.

Jermaine was obsessed. It was cute. And it was something I hadn't expected of him. I'd thought he would just be all about security and training-but there was another side of him that was more playful, this curious side that wanted to learn different things. It was what made me want to learn more about him.

Back when we first met, nothing could have convinced me that he would become my partner. I figured the fighting would have kept us at odds. But now I could see how the fighting had been us attempting to connect with each other.

Anyone would have called me crazy for thinking such a thing. I didn't care. But Jermaine and I had our own language. We had our own way of communicating. It didn't matter if people didn't understand it because we understood it and that was all that mattered. The windows in the kitchen revealed the side yard. I could see the neighborhoods from here. They weren't too far away. Enough to feel close while having space.

I blushed while reaching for the coffee pot. Enough to have privacy for fucking in the kitchen whenever we want.

While filling the carafe with water, I checked the clock. If he had gone in an hour ago, then he would be back in a few hours. That was enough time to eat, check my schedule for any temp jobs, and then get ready to see him again. My heart jolted with excitement.

Seeing him in the middle of the day was nice. Most people made cohabitation sound annoying. But sharing space with Jermaine, as challenging as it had been at first, was actually kind of nice. We had a pretty predictable schedule and we made time for each other. That was the makings of any good relationship.

I poured water into the coffee pot, added my favorite hazelnut coffee grounds, and then started the machine. As it bubbled to life, I sank into a chair at the table.

What the hell were those guys thinking last night?I thought as I picked at my nails. They tried to attack us in public. That's not something Raymond would do. Is this another rogue group?

That would explain why Jermaine had headed in super early. He was probably talking to Blake about the whole thing right now. I could text him. It wasn't like he kept those things from me.

I patted my pocket, realizing I had left my phone in the room. When I pulled it off the charger, I noticed three new messages. They were from Jermaine.

I grinned. He never keeps me out of the loop.

The coffee machine percolated down the hall. I listened to it as I perused his messages, my smile fading with each word absorbed. By the time I had let the messages sink in, I was sitting on the bed with my phone on the bedside table and my head in my shaky hands.

This can't be happening, I thought. He can't do this.

Jermaine had been nervous last night. I knew that much. I knew he didn't like the fact that we'd been caught with our pants down in the park, metaphorically speaking. But predicting that attack would have been impossible.

And what were we supposed to do? Stop living our lives just because Raymond Gilbert had a thing about taking down our alpha?

That was stupid. We deserved to have a life outside of this ranch. We should have been living happily.

But instead, I was crumbling under an invisible weight. I was sliding to the ground. I was trying to make sense of what I had just read.

Jermaine had dumped me. By text message. He told me that he didn't see a future with me and that he wanted me out by the end of the day. Seeing as I couldn't go back to my old townhome, I would have to go live with Uncle Irvin. I would have to contend with the fact that Uncle Irvin had gotten a bad feeling about Jermaine from the very start.

He was right, I thought tearfully. I should have listened to him. I should have trusted my gut.

But that was just the thing. I had trusted my gut. Originally, the announcement had made me nauseous-yet simultaneously excited. The way I saw Jermaine had changed because I'd given him a chance. And he had given me a chance. So, what the hell changed?

I snatched my phone from its place. It wasn't fair that he was kicking me out. I had as much right to this mate bond as he did. And if he'd been having second thoughts, why hadn't he told me before? The whole physical thing had been his idea. My eyes went wide. Unless he's bored with that.

I gnashed my teeth together while clicking on his name in my phone. The coffee machine had stopped bubbling. I could smell the delicious scent of coffee wafting through the air, but hardly felt comforted by it.

The line rang, and rang, and rang. I waited with the phone pressed to my ear and my heart in my throat. I could hardly breathe with every trill, the sound of it mocking me. When his voicemail answered, I hung up and called again.

This was nuts. I knew I wouldn't be able to reach him. The tone of his texts told me he wouldn't be bothered to answer his phone if I called. I was shocked he hadn't blocked me. Cowardly men like him usually did when they broke up with women like me through a message.

And he had tried to make it about him, too. He tried to make it sound like he was somehow insufficient for me. I knew it was much more than that. I knew it had to do with my bratty attitude and my demands for things to be done a certain way.

After my third attempt to call Jermaine, I shoved my phone under my pillow-or I guess it was actually his pillow since I was being forced to move out.

Nothing here belonged to me except my clothes. I guess that made it easier to leave.

He set me up, I thought as I flew toward the closet. I yanked on a pair of jeans and a tank top, then grabbed a bag to help me transport clothes. He told me to get rid of my furniture because he had everything covered. But the truth is that he didn't want me to take my time leaving.

This wasn't right. I was the one who left people, not the other way around. I was always in control.

Except with Jermaine. He made me lose control.

How had I allowed that to happen?

Tears blurred my path to the door. I tripped over a pair of boots, unsure if they were mine. I trudged to the front door and slipped on a pair of sneakers. As I slung my bag over my shoulder, I took one last look around. Nothing here was mine. Not even Jermaine.

I'd been foolish to think he would give himself over to me if I was just honest with him. Honestly, the way he had acted after I told him the truth about my life was probably a key indicator that he was going to pull something like this. He had no idea how to handle it. That was why he'd wanted to pass me off to a therapist.

Because if I had a therapist, it would be easier to dump me.

And then that attack last night-that just gave him the right excuse, didn't it? He wanted to make it a protection issue when it was actually just about how he didn't want to deal with me. That was fine. Not a lot of people could handle a wild card such as myself. It was better this way.

I patted my pockets to check for my things. My phone was missing. I shook my head as I marched back to the room. That wasn't something I was about to leave. Besides, if he decided to change his mind and beg for me to come back, I wanted him to be able to contact me. Bittersweet was the begging that was done after a breakup.

My wildness lived for it. Once Jermaine realized how bad a mistake he had made, he would call me up and start his apologies. I would probably listen to every word and affirm his fears-and then let him down as hard as I could.

If he thinks he's going to get away with rejecting me...

More tears came. I hated the way they felt trickling down my cheeks without my permission. Men like Jermaine weren't worth crying over. It wasn't like I was going to miss anything about him.

But I would miss everything. I would miss his consideration of my diet and his enthusiasm for sex. Even while I had doubted things, I had enjoyed the way we connected. We weren't meant to argue all the time. I could see that now. I paused with my hand on the knob.

Wait, maybe it was that. We hadn't argued in a long while. Maybe picking a fight with him was just the thing to do. Or maybe this was his way of picking a fight. He was trying to get back to how we had been before because too many variables had changed. That was what happened when you trusted someone.

Everything had changed. Right down to my DNA. What I sensed and processed simply wasn't the same anymore. Relationships changed a little bit, sure, but this was huge. This was molecular.

It made little to no sense why it would be so significant, but my inner tiger insisted she knew. Logic didn't explain it. Just feelings. And she urged me to go with it.

So, why was Jermaine turning it all away? Why was he shoving me out?

I bowed my head as I walked out onto the porch. To the right was the mansion. To the left was the neighborhood. Both seemed to be an equal distance away. Which way should I go?

Locating Jermaine would help put my worries to rest. But then again, he'd told me not to look for him. He probably had plenty of places to hide around here-and plenty of people to do it. While I didn't think Blake would endorse this rejection, he probably wouldn't deny his best friend a little break.

And then, who was to say that Blake wouldn't announce a new pairing for Jermaine?

Doubt made it difficult to think. I couldn't make a decision, frozen by the morning light and the tears blinding my eyes once more. I tried to look around, but I just couldn't do it. I couldn't make my head turn.

I went to the left. No use looking for a guy who didn't want me.

A few minutes felt like hours. When I reached my uncle's house, I was broken to pieces, alarmed by how my soreness doubled the more steps I put between me and the cabin.

I walked into the house. I dropped my bag to the ground. I clutched my head.

Uncle Irvin drifted into the room. I didn't see him so much as I felt his presence. For a tiger, he had a pretty calm aura. Most of us were buck wild, but Uncle Irvin was different. He was more level than the rest of us.

And right now, he was about to become my rock.

Seconds was all it took for him to wrap me in a hug. He let me cry for a long time, not shushing me or spoon-feeding me silly platitudes.

I cried until my tear ducts were as sore as my legs. I held onto my uncle for dear life, lost to the tide of grief that swallowed me up. It was like I had thrown myself into the ocean and I was getting swept out to sea. The only thing keeping me anchored was the only family I had left.

"You were right," I whispered. "I shouldn't have trusted him. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about."

I shook my head. My uncle just didn't get it, did he? I had everything to be sorry about.

And it all started with me.

I pushed gently away from my uncle. I bowed my head, thanking him quietly for his comfort. It wasn't fair for him to have to nurse my wounded heart when I hadn't even trusted his feelings. This was my problem.

I headed for my old bedroom.

"El?" he called. "You need anything?"

"Just time," I replied. "I just need time. And then, when I'm done with time, I'll make sure I get what I'm owed."