Untamed (Rejected Mate Academy #1) - E. M. Moore Page 0,34
with disgust. His gaze roams down my uniform, then travels up to meet my eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I laugh, but it almost comes out like an exasperated sob. How could he be asking me what’s wrong? Everything is obviously wrong. “I’m stuck here, away from my family. Away from anyone who loves me. I had to sit and watch a grotesque video about living Feral, as if it’s some sort of warning to us all, and the guy who put me here is asking me what’s wrong. That’s what’s fucking wrong, Jonah.”
He rubs at his chest, and I wonder if he can feel the pain coursing through me. When a wolf is really hyped up, they can transfer their emotions to others in the same pack, and the bond between fated wolves is supposed to be stronger than that. The higher up you are in the pack, the easier it is to transfer emotions, so this is most likely our bond making Jonah wince. “I was told you could talk to your parents while you were here.”
I blink at him to make sure he’s serious and then lose my shit. “Oh, really? I’m lucky, then. Tell me, can you only just talk to your parents while you’re attending Brixton? Or can you maybe go see them whenever you want?”
He roars in my face, the sound pricking my skin. “Why do you fight me at every fucking turn?”
“Because you’re ruining my life!”
Jonah moves fast. I cower as his hands stretch out but instead of the attack I thought I was getting, he grabs my forearms and crushes me to his chest. His arms wrap around me, squeezing. The warmth of his huge form envelops me in all directions. He’s stiff at first, like a boa constrictor who doesn’t know his own strength. Eventually, his muscles retract until it’s just his two giant arms holding me to him in an embrace. “Relax,” he whispers. “I feel like my heart is tearing right out of my chest. I need you to calm down. Please.”
With his one hand bound around my shoulder and another around my back, I can only move my head. I tilt it up, peering into his unsure eyes. My heart slows. “You feel me, don’t you?”
He avoids my stare. His throat works, the cut of his jaw feathering. “Yes, I feel you.”
Almost instantaneously, my mood shifts. My wolf is content being barricaded in our mate’s strong arms, and she no longer threatens to burst free from my human form or be the accelerant to my temper. I lean my head against his chest because even though I hate that he gives me comfort, I need it right now. I crave him like a bad idea that will hurt later but in the present moment, you just don’t care.
Little by little, his hold loosens, but he still doesn’t let me go. His heartbeat, once erratic, returns to normal, mirroring mine. It’s far past time one of us should be stepping away from the other, but we don’t. For once, I give into nature and instinct, and let what I need carry through me.
Finally, he asks, “Do you have classes for the rest of the day?”
I shake my head, my cheek pressing against his shirt. “I was going to start my self-study work, but I’m free.” My words reach out to him like an olive branch. I hold my breath, waiting for him to shove them right back in my face.
He reaches up and works his fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends slightly until I’m peering up at him. “What’s your self-study in?”
My heart lodges in my throat. He’s holding me like a lover. Tentatively, I reach my own hands up. I clasp his waist, which feels oh so right but I get nervous, so I move them up, then down, then I finally drop them in exasperation. Evidently, I don’t have any idea how this works. How do two mates, who are supposed to be each other’s forever, get over being hurt?
“Don’t,” he murmurs, untangling his fingers from my hair. I think he’s going to back away, but instead, he grabs my hands and returns them to his hips, holding them there until he returns his grip to my hair. “Now,” he breathes. “What’s your self-study in?”
“B-botany.”
He raises a brow, a small smirk playing over his lips. “You’re a science nerd?”
I cock my head. Years of teasing have taught me to lash out, but I hold it in. “Not really.