2. Naomi

Staring at the shambles that is Finn Penkov I could almost laugh. Lips smeared red with Diane’s lipstick, a wide, dumbstruck look on his chiselled, boyish face. 

He said nothing,  just looked at me, flickers of gold lighting up his dark grey eyes. It was easy to find him, his warm tangy scent acting like a homing beacon.

In a way I'm pleased I saw him with Diane Jackson too. I knew I was right about him.

/You called it. Win for you/ Impes, my wolf confirms bitterly. 

Except Finn didn’t count on my sisters. Especially Leona. My matching heartbeat. Nothing gets past her. We’re wearing the same all-black catsuit, copper hair medium length. Instinctively matching even when separated. 

I knew my so-called mate wouldn’t be struggling that badly without me. He’d move on eventually. Men are all the same. 

Adrian wasn’t like that. My son won’t be like that either. Little Rami, blessed with the same sea-green eyes of his father won’t turn into one of those beer-swilling oafs. 

I hope not anyway. I’m trying my best.

Diane at least has the grace to shut the hell up in front of me. But she needn’t worry. I’m not here for a fight. 

Or for Finn.

Even if my cheeks do feel like they’re on fire, Impes firing on every cylinder. 

Back at the Rising Star pack, hiding away from the world with a screaming Rami, I made Finn Penkov shorter, less attractive.

Eyes a wishy-washy grey, his build unimpressive. Standing before me tonight his eyes were pure thunder clouds. Short ashy brown hair with gentle curls leading to thick, chiselled strength in every possible area. 

/Win for me. Told you he was something else/ Impes declares, evening the score. 

Because Finn really is big. Everything about him is tree trunk-sized. /Everything you think?/ Impes practically drools in my mind.

/Perverted hound/ I snap back. This isn't the time for finding Finn Penkov something special. He’s not.

Impes scolds me. /He isn’t Adrian, but he isn’t a bad man./

True. During some mid-war training he told me I’d let my hair grow too long, that an enemy would be able to grab the ponytail if I tried a certain grip. Most men would have just taken a rare win off me with venom, telling me only after I hit the dirt.

But whatever, I’m not here for him. The only unfinished business we have is the fact I’ve not hurled a rejection vow at him yet. 

Especially now he’s shut his mouth and he’s looking at me like I’m his lunch, his love and his worst nightmare all rolled into one. 

Heat hits my stomach and I’m reeling at the strength of his emotions travelling across our bond.

/He’s your mate! You’re meant to sense his feelings!/

Well I’m not here for that disaster. 

I turn to Leona praying she doesn’t notice my distracted, blushing cheeks. “We need to talk. I’ve got an idea for finding him.”

By which I mean Gustav. The sneaky bastard who hid himself away in the White Forest Pack while Adrian was killed. In the aftermath of war he slunk away into the shadows. 

I know he didn’t kill Adrian. That was the act of Adrian's best friend on his final descent into madness. But the end of Gustav represents the end of the wolfsbane wielding assassins that shattered so many families. 

Including ours. My poor father, slain in his sleep. But before Leona can reply my senses tingle. Danger. I dodge out of the way just in time, as a whirling, screeching set of limbs flies at me.

Except it’s my younger sister Eleanor dressed in a beautiful white and cream gown. She never was a good fighter. Beaming with joy she jumps up and down. “NAOMI YOU CAME! You’re here for my Ceremony? Matilda said if you were here we could start planning it! Oh I’m so happy! Thank you! You’ve got to meet Rhett! He’s so lovely!”

Nope. No. Not that. Damnit. Rhett who? Eleanor has a mate! Shit I've been gone way too long.

That’s not why I’m here. I’ve come to grab Leona and get the hell out of Shadowlands. I’m not here for a party and a swishy dress.

“Eleanor it’s just…I’m not-” looking to Leona for help. Eleanor lunges grabbing me in a huge hug. Followed by the shorter, bratty-looking Phoebe whose streaked hair looks much cooler than I remember. 

Eventually Leona gives in and smiles before wrapping her arms around me. It appears I have no choice but to drown in unwanted physical contact. I’m not a hugger.

Eleanor mumbles into my black bodysuit. “Please, please don’t go. Or promise me you’ll be back for the ceremony. I could never do it without you!”

Guilt lashes me in fresh waves. I have abandoned my family, my duty. The fact my sisters wrap around me like it’s completely forgivable leaves my cheeks burning with shame.

Once a Senior Warrior alongside Leona, we lead an army of incredible women to victory. Now I’m a boring hermit, hiding with a baby in a cottage Alpha Zeke of Rising Star offered me. 

More than that I’m trapped. 

I’m caught between the memory of the man I want, and the reality of what the Goddess has given me. 

“Okay. Set a date and I’ll be there I swear. Now let me go, too much cuddling! Way too much!” as we all break apart. I’m surrounded by the shining chocolate brown eyes and shining russet hair of my childhood.

“Yes!” Eleanor yelps, squeezing me one extra time. 

“I’m not wearing another massive gown,” Phoebe moans. 

Except just over Phoebe’s shorter stature I feel a different set of eyes on me. Finn is still here. Silently taking in my every move. I can feel his eyes on my neck, lingering towards  my collarbone.

HIs feelings rush at me across our bond. Far more than I can deal with. The worst is the hope. It’s like feeling the sun breaking through clouds. 

No doubt wanting me to stay. Pretend I never ran away with another man's child growing inside me. Probably put another five kids in me to prove some twisted point, grunting as he fucks me and call me “mine” all the time. 

Unbearable. I’ll never be his. I should just reject him and get it over with.

His face changes, his broad jawline definitely clenching. He must be picking up my bitter thoughts. Plus the guilt which never fades for more than a few minutes.

“Come on, let’s find Matilda! Maybe she’ll let us have the next full moon party!” Eleanor squeaks, gripping my hand tightly. The oldest of our sisters, Luna of the Shadowlands. Just like Phoebe and Eleanor she is no fighter, she leads by kindness and grace. 

Leona and I took care of interrogations and defence. Matilda bakes and runs a nursery.

“Come on, we’ll go ask her,” Leona says firmly to the others. Her steady brown-eyed gaze tells me she expects me to talk to Finn. 

Well I don’t want to. And being my twin she should damn well know that.

The way my stomach received a bolt of pure, burning, excitable heat at the mention of being alone with him is not going to help me get through this.

He must know I can feel his emotions. 

Panic rises, the same as when Rami endlessly cries and I have no idea what to try next when he steps forward.

My heart charges along, a beat too fast for comfort. Before I know it my sisters have slunk away leaving me in the shadows with my mate. I turn, his voice cuts through the darkness.

“We need to talk, Naomi,” and I already hate the way Impes has goosebumps running all over my skin. I’m immediately too hot, too cold. 

“I don’t think we do,” I beg Impes to reign in my iris, no doubt firing off yellow shards. At least make me look like I have my shit together for a minute.

“No? Not even talk about the fact you’re a mother now?”

“That has got nothing to do with you.”

“Of course it has!” he snaps impatiently before striding forward again. He forgets who he’s dealing with.

Within a second I withdrew the dagger from behind my back and bared it towards his throat. Impes whimpers at such an action but I know my Rami isn’t Finn’s concern. 

He just wants a fuck, a frenzied mating blast of heat and then drop me.

/You’re wrong./ Impes scolds. /Naomi don’t!/

Finn stands tall, like the blade isn’t even there, just looking down at me from his ridiculous height. This close up he’s too tall. Annoyingly tall. Deep grey eyes that I’ve never truly stared at until tonight.

“Stop it,” I hiss, pressing the blade roughly to his throat.

“Stop what?” as just his breathing, the rise and fall of his huge chest unnerves me.

“I can feel what you’re feeling, you know I can,” not brave enough to look higher than the blade anymore. This close up, his eyes might be the end of me. 

“Same Naomi. I feel what you’ve got going on in your head. And I don’t want it.”

“What?”

His gruff voice gets softer, slower. “I don’t want your guilt, shame and all that shit-” and before he can finish his sentence I drop into a squat and swipe his leg out from underneath him. 

Caught off guard he hits the ground hard enabling me to walk away, straight back to my mothers house where my real life waits for me. 

How can I be mated to such a man?