Beast of Shadows - Krista Street Page 0,40

happened in my former pack. Most wolves choose their mates, only rarely does one encounter the other half to their soul. But that’s who Brianna is. She’s my mate, and she’s my true mate in every sense of the word. I can feel it.

Ever since that moment, when my beast nearly killed her and her scent flooded his nose, the bond began to form.

But it wasn’t until she walked away from us back by the mountain, that I truly understood what had happened.

The beast had recognized it first. He’d scented something was different about her, which was the only reason he hadn’t killed her.

As for me? I’d been a bit slower on the uptake, but it makes sense now. My obsession with her. The reason I couldn’t leave her behind in Quintin Valley when I should have.

My body had recognized that she was my mate before my mind had.

Another ten minutes of silence passes, and I can’t take it anymore. “Are you hungry?” I ask. A sign flashes by the window. A Sonic is at the next exit.

“No.”

“I am. Do you mind if we stop?” I’ve burned a shit-ton of calories today. My metabolism has been on overdrive, and I’ve been ravenous most of the day. Ever since Brianna got in the logging truck, I’ve been going at full-speed, and it feels like I’m starving—even if the beast ate Declan.

I pull off at the exit and let the car coast into the drive-thru. I lean over and pop the glove box. She tenses when my arm brushes against her leg, but she doesn’t pull back.

“What are you looking for?”

“Cash.” I rummage around in the compartment. “A lot of people keep a few spare bucks or change in their car.”

Her lips part. “You don’t have any money to pay for food?”

I grind my teeth. Two and a half years ago I had more money than I knew what to do with. But I’d left that money behind when I went rogue.

“Here.” She reaches into her pocket and extracts a wad of bills. When my eyebrows rise, she adds, “These were my tips last night. If you’re hungry, I can give you money.”

Shame creeps up my neck, making my skin hot. My mate is offering me her hard-earned cash to pay for my meal, because I don’t have any money. But that’s not how it’s supposed to work. I’m supposed to provide for her. Not the other way around.

I know it’s an archaic way to think, but that’s how it is in the werewolf world. Or rather, how it was. Things were beginning to change when I left my pack. Daria was seeing to that. For all I know, those chauvinistic tendencies died when the new alpha married his mate.

Of course I wouldn’t know since I didn’t stick around.

Regardless of whether or not that tradition has changed, I was raised to take care of my woman. My dad always provided for my mom. He took care of her, even if their marriage was strained at times. Bottom line, I intend to do the same for my woman.

“You know what? I’m not actually that hungry.” I turn the steering wheel away from the drive-thru just as my stomach lets out a huge growl. Traitor. The scent of burgers in the air did it.

Brianna’s hand lands on my arm, and my entire body goes still. I stop the car, my foot hitting the brake hard enough that she lurches forward in her seat.

She snatches her hand back, but I can still feel it—the feel of her palm on my skin, the heat of her body.

“You’re obviously hungry. Let me buy you some food. Please.”

The shame that I felt a moment ago quadruples. “I don’t need you to buy me anything. I’ll eat something from the backpack.”

She snorts. “Oh for God’s sake, just pull up to the window. Cause you know what? On second thought, I am hungry.”

“You really expect me to fall for that?”

“No, because there’s nothing to fall for. I am hungry.”

I begrudgingly do as she wishes even though I’m ninety-nine percent sure that she’s not hungry, and she’s insisting on staying for my sake, but I’m not about to let her pay for my meal.

When we reach the speaker at the drive-thru menu, a bored sounding teenager asks us what we want.

Brianna’s eyebrows rise. “Aren’t you going to order?”

I shake my head stubbornly. “I’m good. Just get what you want.”

She stares at me, those warm-brown irises lighting a fire inside me. Hunger

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