Fated Magic (Claimed by Wolves #1) - Callie Rose Page 0,31

of it.

“I can’t do this,” she says in a light, soft voice, wrapping her arms around her chest. She’s wearing a t-shirt and shorts that are far too big for her—a man’s clothes, probably Ridge’s, and fuck if that doesn’t send a hot wave of jealousy rippling through my wolf. “I don’t want to do this. I can’t be a shifter.”

Ridge stands and holds both of his hands out toward her, palms down like she’s a wild pup who needs calming. “Sable, you are a wolf. It isn’t something you can decide not to be.”

She shakes her head, her mussed golden hair flinging about. I can see the whites of her eyes as her gaze darts around the too-small living room. “I’m not a wolf. Just… please. No.”

And then she’s running. Her sneakers slap against the elder’s clean hardwood floors as she launches across the room and through the front door. Trystan doesn’t even have a chance to jolt, still holding up the fucking wall as the door slams into him for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

A surge of emotion flows over me, and I tamp it down, forcing my feet to remain firmly planted. Everything in me wants to follow her and ease her fears. The girl is terrified, more so than seems logical, but I’m well aware that fear doesn’t always follow logic. Been there, done that.

Ridge moves first, taking two steps toward the door. In the same breath, Trystan straightens and makes a move to follow her outside.

But I throw an arm out, stopping them both. “No.”

Both men tense and glare at me, and Ridge snarls, “I’m going after her.”

“Somebody has to,” Trystan adds, his tone scathing.

“Neither of you are capable of understanding her right now,” I say firmly. “Not like me.”

I’ve known Ridge and Trystan for a long time. Almost my entire life, really. That happens when your fathers are the alphas of packs who exist peacefully within a treatise. We grew up together—sort of. I’ve seen them both do a lot of hot-headed things, and they’re both reactionary. They can kindle a temper in two seconds flat.

They don’t have the experience I have. They weren’t captured and imprisoned by witches as a kid; they weren’t mentally and emotionally destroyed by the enemy and then left to figure out how to live again.

I have a unique perspective on trauma they’ll never understand.

“Sable needs someone who can understand her,” I point out. “I know neither of you want to take your mate by force. Right?”

Ridge looks stricken at the thought, and the tension in his shoulders eases slightly. “No. No, never.”

“Of course not,” Trystan says, crossing his arms. I can tell he’s furious at this whole situation, but I know he means it. All of us take the bond seriously, and an important part of the mate bond is the willingness of both parties to enter into it.

Wolves don’t mate by force. It’s not our way.

I glance at the door then hold up both palms toward them. “I have the best chance at talking to her. Just give me a few minutes. All right?”

I don’t wait for an answer. The fact that neither of them have kicked into a light jog yet tells me they’re picking up what I’m putting down. They may be jackasses, but they’re not dumb.

As I pass over the threshold, Ridge calls my name and stops me on the elder’s front path. “You should know Sable’s had trauma in her past. She’s been abused.”

There’s an intense level of rage in his voice, and my own rage rises up to meet it. I kinda thought so. You don’t end up with a heavy amount of innate terror like Sable seems to struggle with without something pushing you there. But I hate to have confirmation. I don’t know her yet, and I’m not the kind of narcissist to pretend I do, but this means we stand on equal ground, she and I.

I nod at Ridge. “Thanks for the heads up. I’ll be careful with her.”

Then I leave him standing by the shack, watching me sprint away.

Sable isn’t running. I can still scent her on the wind up ahead, and I follow that liquid sunshine smell until I find her standing outside the cabin I know belongs to Ridge.

She’s on the sidewalk, shifting her weight back and forth from left foot to right foot, teeth digging into her bottom lip. As I get closer, she doesn’t notice me, but she whips around