The Alpha’s Heart (Stolen Mates #3)

6. Rejection

CHAPTER 6

REJECTION

K endall said Bishop expected his fated mate to bond with him during the upcoming full moon. I’m his fated mate. He should find it difficult to have any distance from me. I thought he did, considering the big male refuses to sleep next to me but can’t bring himself to leave our room either. If I’m willing—and me being here makes it clear that I am—then he should want to finalize our mate bond as soon as possible.

But if he wants to wait… I don’t know if it’s because he thinks I want to, or he’s being a real Alpha, making decisions on behalf of both of us since Alpha’s always know best. It doesn’t matter. The faint rejection washing over me stings.

I cover it up with a small smile, saying nothing as Catherine finishes the conversation before walking away and joining a different table. Bishop seems oblivious to how his answer has affected me. He’s returned his attention to his plate, and I swallow the uneasy lump in my throat while spearing a piece of meat on my fork.

We eat in silence. I thought it was uncomfortable at first, but that was before I realized that Bishop… he just really likes to stay quiet. It’s not that he doesn’t have anything to say to me. Given his way, the big Alpha wouldn’t waste words talking to anyone. I noticed that during our time in the den. If a grunt or a scowl or a nod is enough to answer a packmate’s question, that’s good with Bishop.

That doesn’t mean he’s always silent. As though he’s trying his best to make me feel at home in his pack, we’ve had a few conversations in private. The key word, of course, being private . When his pack is watching, he plays the part of the perfect Alpha: commanding their attention with little more than a look and the way he holds his big body. When we’re alone and he can be Bishop instead of just the Sylvan Pack’s Alpha, I learn more about what he chooses to see than I do with the stifled emotions traveling down our bond.

Because, Luna knows, I’m not the only one trying to hide the extent of just how I’m feeling during our awkward mating dance.

I can’t read Bishop. Every now and then, a flicker of an emotion reaches me, but it’s gone before I can clutch it between my wolf’s paws. He’s so stone-faced most of the time, I don’t know what he’s thinking. Ever since he called me out rightfully for lying to him before rejecting my half-hearted advances, it’s as if he’s accepted that any mating we’ll have will be more a business arrangement than any kind of love match.

I just… I think I was really hoping that the Luna got it right and that Bishop could be mine.

Rocks settle in my stomach. Everything feels so very heavy all of a sudden, and I can’t bring myself to eat another bite of food.

Bishop, oblivious—or simply uncaring—returns to scarfing down the rest of his own meal.

He’s nearly done when, out of nowhere, Helene comes marching over to our table.

As the Alpha, Bishop’s unofficially assigned table in the outdoor seating area is positioned near the center. That way he’s in sight of all packmates that need to feel their Alpha’s dominance brushing up against their fur. He’s a visible reminder that they’re protected, and since each meal is served in his name, they’re also well-fed.

I’m sure, before I came to Hickory, he didn’t take every meal out here. Kendall often ate in the communal hall for the same reasons that Bishop eats outside, but there were times when he needed to retreat to the privacy of his cabin. Bishop’s gotta be the same, but he’s been very careful to show me off while also keeping me close. Apart from the pack circle, the Alpha’s cabin, and the parts of Hickory I saw when I first arrived, he’s allowed the pack to get used to me without allowing me the same opportunity to explore.

I get it. I do. It’s his protective instincts at work, and once we’re bonded, it won’t be as bad. But if that’s so, why does he want to wait?

And why does the understanding that it is his duty and his instincts ruling him hurt more than I thought it would?

A lump lodges in my throat. I swallow it roughly, chasing it with a sip from my glass of water as Helene weaves through the tables, .

Bishop finishes his steak, unaware that his sister has him in sights. Well, no. Probable not unaware. An Alpha’s senses are unrivaled, so he has to know she’s coming—but he just scoops up some mashed potatoes right as she parks herself by our table, laying her hand on Bishop’s forearm..

“Sofia,” Helene says in a warm voice that matches the earnestness written on her pretty face. “Hi. Can I borrow my idiot brother for a second?”

Bishop growls softly, letting his fork and knife fall to his plate with a clink . “An idiot I may be, but I’m still your Alpha. So maybe watch it, yeah?”

The young blonde pats his bicep with one hand while clinging to his muscular forearm with the other. “You were my big brother first, Bishop. And if you want to play the hierarchy game, I’m the Omega.”

“You’re still only sixteen, canari?—”

“And that doesn’t mean anything if you promoted me to the pack Omega,” Helene retorts, never losing her inviting smile. Even as she teases her older brother, her soothing nature does something to the jealousy roiling my guts. Good thing, too. That’s her brother , and I can’t stop wanting to use my claws to remove Helene’s fingers from Bishop’s arms.

He might not be the epitome of the possessive, jealous alpha wolf I expected him to be. That’s okay. I’m acting like a true she-wolf, ready to bear my teeth at any one who thinks they have a claim on my fated mate stronger than mine.

I don’t. Deep down, I recognize that Bishop and Helene have a bond of their own that is no threat to the one I have with Bishop—even if, after his slight rejection, I’m beginning to doubt we’ll ever finalize it.

Bishop’s nostrils flare, a touch of annoyance causing his alpha aura to spike. “Helene. We can talk later. I’m eatin’ with my intended right now. I know you have West fetchin’ you your plates. Why don’t you go back to the poor boy?”

“West will wait for me,” she says with all the assurance of a teenaged she-wolf who realizes that she has the future Beta eating out of her paw, even if she’s not sure what that means just yet. She flashes me a friendly grin. “Sofia, you don’t mind, do you? I’ll have Bishop right back to you. Promise.”

Another rumble coming from the big Alpha, but he’s not arguing again.

That’s all I needed to see. Matching her grin while setting down my fork and knife, I push my plate away. “I’m actually done. I was hoping to head back to the cabin anyway. It’s been a long day,” I add, and since Bishop had to sit through the same two-hour-long pack meeting that I did right before dinner, he knows I’m not kidding. “Dinner was delicious. You have great pack cooks here. But I think I’d like to wind down.”

Helene nods. “It’s part of being a maternal wolf, “ she says. “You give everything you have to your packmates. If there’s a confrontation, you’ll want to be the peacemaker. If someone is upsetting you, you’d rather duck out and escape than face them yourself. If a pup’s in danger, or someone weaker than you, your wolf is fierce. Otherwise, you need to have some quiet time to recuperate after being around too many conflicting types of wolves.”

I… wow.

I cock my head. “You can tell all that about—” Me. I give my head a small shake. “—about my kind of wolf just be looking at me?”

She shrugs. “You’re a maternal wolf, Sofia. I’m an omega.”

Of course. I knew that.

Bishop starts to reach across the table with his free hand. He pauses when the heat of his palm reaches the top of my hand, though he doesn’t quite touch me.

I wait for him to lower his hand.

He doesn’t.

My smile becomes a little more brittle. I do everything I can to lock down my feelings so that Helene doesn’t know how that sting of rejection from before has become an ache, then push my chair back.

“I’ll be at the cabin,” I say, a falsely cheery tone in my voice. “I’ll see you later.”

Bishop doesn’t say anything. Helene squeezes his arm. He winces—and I know damn well it’s not because the sixteen-year-old she-wolf managed to hurt him at all.

“‘Course,” he grates out. “I’ll be there.”

He has to be. It’s his cabin.

Pacing around my new bedroom, clutching my phone in my hand, I think about what I’m going to do next.

I haven’t called home yet. Not since I’ve been in Hickory. I’ve left my phone in my suitcase most of the time. Bishop doesn’t have one, and he’s shown no interest in mine, but I decided to keep it tucked away unless I’m checking for missed calls or recent text messages.

Part of the reason I haven’t returned any of the calls is because I didn’t want to be too homesick. Trading River Run for the Sylvan Pack was easier than I thought it would be—my fated mate bond helping me with the transition because when I scent Bishop’s clove scent, I can’t help but think home —but that’s because I decided to cut all ties with my past life while I was in the middle of the mating dance with Bishop.

The other part? I can’t help but feel as if Bishop is humoring me. That he offered to mate me because that’s what the Luna wants him to do, but if it was up to him, he would pat me on the head and ship me off to River Run again.

I shut down my side of the bond everytime those thoughts run through my mind. I never would’ve thought I was an insecure she-wolf before, but I can’t help it. It’s rare for a pair of fated mates to go more than a single full moon before they’re bonded. For Bishop to suggest we wait… he didn’t reject me, not outright at least, but it’s the closest he can get without breaking our engagement.

Declan, I think. I need to talk to him. Out of respect for my new mate, I’d kept my text responses to the few messages he sent me brief. After Bishop and me are bonded, I’ll explain that my friend from back home is a male that he has nothing to worry about, but until we are bonded, I’d rather avoid having that chat if I can. Male shifters in the throes of the mating dance are unpredictable, possessive, and highly jealous. It wouldn’t matter that Declan is Declan , or that Bishop would only react because he believes the Luna gave him to me. He’s an Alpha. I agreed to be his mate. If Bishop wanted to challenge the less-dominant male over me, that’s the one time pack tradition would understand an Alpha having free rein to slaughter another wolf.

But, for Luna’s sake, it’s Declan . I’m sure that, after our Luna Ceremony, the two guys in my life will get on like a house on fire. I just needed to wait until afte the Luna Ceremony to introduce them—and, wouldn’t you know, it doesn’t look like that ’s happening anytime soon.

Bitter? Me? Sofia Russo? Oh, no. You must have the wrong she-wolf…

I shake my head. This is part of being an intended mate. Until we’re bonded, either one of us can easily break our arrangement by rejecting the other. And though I’m sure that Bishop will go through with mating me because he feels like it’s his duty, and that the Luna—and his pack—expect it of him, do I really want to be trapped in a bonded mating with a male who is doing everything because he has to, not because he chose to?

But what’s the alternative? He can change his mind, reject me, and neither one of us will ever have a second chance with a fated mate. As a powerful Alpha, I’m sure there would be loads of she-wolves jumping at the chance to be his.

What about me? Would Guy be desperate enough to take me as his chosen mates if I’m damaged goods?

Yeah… no, thanks.

A strangled laugh bubbles up in my throat. There’s no humor in it. Still, I feel a little better knowing that I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life if Bishop decides not to mate me over crawling back to Guy Holsom—and that slight improvement on my grey mood lasts only as long as it takes for me to notice that the little hairs on the back of my neck are suddenly standing on end.

The Alpha’s cabin crackles with Bishop’s distinctive aura.

Cloves filter in through the gap between the door and, Luna damn it, my heart skips a beat the second my nose registers the delicious scent.

Bishop .

A knock sounds at the bedroom door.

“Sofia? Can you come out here? I’d like to talk.”

My poor heart jumps up into my throat at the sound of his gruff voice, and all I can think is that: this is it. He spoke with the Omega… spoke with his last remaining family… and decided he can’t do it. The Luna might have picked me to be his mate, but after spending the last week with me, he’s changed his mind.

He’s going to reject me, isn’t he? Why else would he ask me to leave the bedroom, facing him in the living room instead?

I guess I should be grateful he’s not taking this discussion into the den. At least there’s some privacy for me as the big Alpha breaks our bond—and my poor heart.

“Yes,” I call back, trying to keep my tone as light as possible. “I’m coming.”

Before I head for the door, I slip my phone into the back pocket of my jeans. Declan can wait. Besides, if I’m about to be rejected by the Alpha of the Sylvan Pack, it’s probably better if I don’t have him on the line to witness my humiliation.

All of River Run will know soon enough anyway.