PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

Quinley, aged sixteen

There he is.

Her pulse racing with nerves, Quinley slipped out of the shadows at the side of the guest lodge. Zaire’s step faltered at the sight of her, and his brows briefly knitted. It sucked that her own mate looked at her with zero recognition despite her having been in his periphery for years.

Her Alpha male Harlan was close friends with Zaire’s father, Rodrick—an Alpha of another pride. Whenever Rodrick came to visit, he often brought his son along. And so Zaire had become friends with Harlan’s children.

Quinley’s pride was huge, as was its territory. The more important you were to the Alphas, the further inland you were situated. Her family was unranked and lived near the border, so she didn’t move in the same social circles as the children of her Alpha pair, unlike Zaire. As such, she’d never had cause to officially meet him.

It was only two years ago, when he’d saved her from a tricky situation, that she’d been up close to him for the first time. As she’d looked directly into his eyes and taken his scent into her lungs, something deep and primitive had stirred inside both Quinley and her inner cat. They’d felt that he was theirs. When all he’d gifted her with was a blank, disinterested look, her stomach had roiled.

He doesn’t sense it, she’d thought back then. It had been clear that something was jamming the frequency of the true-mate bond on his end.

She’d raced back home and told her sisters what had happened. They’d advised her not to approach him about it, saying it was best to give him time to sense the truth for himself. So Quinley had done exactly that, trusting that he’d eventually come to realize they were predestined mates.

But … he so far hadn’t. Which was a special brand of torture. And after what she’d heard tonight, she couldn’t stay silent any longer. She’d otherwise risk losing him for good.

Zaire gave her a severe glare. “You shouldn’t be here.” It was spoken with the authority of someone who actually ruled her pride.

Bold.

“I wanted to talk to you.” She cleared her throat. “I’m Quinley, by the way.”

He didn’t react whatsoever. It was obvious that her name meant nothing to him and didn’t poke at his memories. Sweet.

“You once intervened when I was surrounded by a group of my peers,” she reminded him. Again, zero recognition. “In the woods,” she added, but the words garnered no reaction. “Like, two years ago.”

He continued to stare at her blankly.

Disappointment flooded her, but she flicked a blasé hand. “You don’t remember. It’s fine.” Lie.

He sighed. “What do you want?”

She blinked at his rude tone. Okay. It didn’t do much for her confidence, but she wasn’t going to make her excuses and leave. This was too important.

She pulled in a preparatory breath and drew herself up to her full height, which wasn’t anything close to tall. She parted her lips to speak, but the words got trapped in her throat. Say it. Just say it. “We’re mates,” she blurted out.

He stiffened from head to toe, his expression going tight. Not good. But still, there was relief in having finally spoken those words aloud. She’d held them in for what felt like way too long.

Zaire scratched his nape, looking uncomfortable. “Fuck,” he muttered beneath his breath.

“I wasn’t going to say anything. I was waiting for you to sense it for yourself. But you haven’t, and then tonight I heard … I heard that you and Nazra plan to mate one day and run this pride together.” Panic had squeezed her lungs so tight she’d struggled to breathe.

He dropped his arm back to his side.“Look—”

“I know there’s a good chance my Alpha will make you sign a mating agreement even now. You can’t, Zaire.”

It wouldn’t matter that he might not claim Nazra for many years to come. If he put his signature on those papers, it would be hard for him to back out without causing major insult to her Alphas—and it would break something in Quinley.

“You can’t sign yourself away like that,” she pressed. “I’m the one you’re supposed to claim.”

He pulled a face. “This is—”

“I’m no daughter of an Alpha, I’m not dominant, and my family as a whole is unranked, so mating me will get you nothing—I know that. But we’re fated, Zaire. That has to count for something.”

“It would. If we were. But we’re not.”

Her inner cat flinched, her shoulders hunching. “We are,” Quinley insisted, ignoring the pain that had lanced through her chest, cold and razor sharp.

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Kid, I don’t want to upset—”

“I’m not a kid,” she bit off.

“You’re, like, thirteen or fourteen.”

His condescension was a slap. “I’m sixteen, two years younger than you. And I am right about this.”

Disbelief plastered over his face, he shook his head fast. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yes, I do. And I know I’m too young for you to claim; I don’t expect you to do anything about this yet. But you can’t sign a mating agreement, Zaire.”

He slashed a hand through the air. “Okay, enough, I need you to listen to me.” He pinned her gaze with his. “We’re not predestined mates.”

Her cat bared her teeth, the hairs on her back rising. “Yes, we are,” Quinley upheld, sure to her bones that she was right.

“If you were mine, I’d feel it on some level. But I don’t.”

Yeah, I noticed. “Which means something’s blocking the mating frequency on your end. We just have to figure out what it is.” They could do that here and now.

“There’s nothing to figure out. Whatever you’re feeling … it’s just a crush. Maybe you’re too young to see that right now, but that’s all this is.”

Her spine snapped straight. Like she was naïve and didn’t know her own mind? Quinley felt the edges of her temper fray. “A crush? You really think I’d confuse a crush with the pull of a true mate bond? I’m unranked, I’m not stupid.”

He gave her an appeasing look. “I never said you were stupid, just mistaken. You’d be surprised how often it happens.”

Quinley took a determined step closer to him and lifted her chin. “I know that we’re mates. I know that this is real. And I know that if you sign a mating agreement, I’m going to lose my shit.”

His eyes flaring with frustration, he stalked toward her. Dominant vibes rolled off him and beat at her skin.

Quinley was submissive—most black-footed cat healers were—so it was elementally instinctual for her to lower her gaze. She tried not to, but her eyes burned and watered from trying to hold his, so she dropped her gaze to the bridge of his nose.

“I was trying to let you down gently,” he clipped, “but if I have to be harsh to get through to you I will.” He leaned closer. “We. Are. Not. Mates.”

The words were like bullets. She inwardly flinched, and a hiss sputtered out of her inner cat.

“I don’t feel anything toward you that would suggest we’re mates—not curiosity, not protectiveness, not even a pull to talk to you.”

Fuck, he might as well have stabbed her right in the gut.

“Neither does my cat. He doesn’t feel compelled to be near you or watch over you. That right there is a very telling point.”

Her feline hissed again, now just as infuriated with his animal as she was with him.

“I don’t go for submissive shifters, so it wouldn’t make sense for my true mate to be one. Again, a telling point. I know this isn’t what you want to hear. I’m not saying it so bluntly to upset you. I’m doing it because I need the facts to sink into your brain so that you’ll let this go. We’re not fated. What you’re feeling is just—”

“A crush,” she bit out, forcing her gaze back up to his. “I got it.”

He studied her expression carefully. “Do you?”

“Yep. You’re right. It’s all clear now.”

He didn’t look convinced of her complete turnaround. And so he shouldn’t. Because despite how deeply his claims cut and how much she wanted to slam her fist into his jaw, she knew as surely as she knew her own name that Zaire was her true mate.

But he clearly believed what he was saying. He wouldn’t have otherwiserejected her so fiercely and with such finality. And she knew she could argue until she was blue in the face, but it would make no difference. For whatever reason, he wasn’t ready to accept this yet. Maybe he never would be. Because if he couldn’t sense it while she was right here with her scent surrounding him, if her claims weren’t even making him consider they were fated, she wasn’t sure what would.

His shoulders relaxed slightly. “I’ll tell no one about our conversation here, and we’ll forget it ever happened.” His lips pursing, he gave her a considering look. “I will give you full points for risking Nazra’s wrath. If she knew about this, she’d outright challenge you to shut this down. And, well, you don’t look to me as though you have a chance of taking her on.” With that casual put-down, he skirted around Quinley and walked away.

Her throat thickening, she rubbed at her aching chest. It felt like an ice-cold dagger had stabbed deep and was now lodged there.

Half-turning, she stared at his back as he walked into the nearby lodge without a backward glance—their conversation already forgotten. Her cat sulkily hunkered down, glaring at the small building in lieu of him.

She’d known he might refute her claim at first, but she’d thought she could convince him to consider she might be right. She hadn’t expected the ugly condescension and sheer dismissiveness. Hadn’t been prepared for just how agonizing it would be to have him turn his back on her like she was nothing and no one to him.

Her eyes stung with hot tears. She’d like to think he’d see the truth one day. Like to think he’d come for her, apologize, ask for forgiveness, and try to stake his claim. But she wasn’t quite optimistic enough to let herself hope for it. Especially when he might just sign a mating agreement sometime soon.

A rustle of grass drew her attention to her far left just as a brunette stepped out from behind a tree, a smirk curving her mouth. “Well, that was interesting.”

Shit.