Chapter 1

Leila POV

I'm going to die a virgin. It's official. I have obviously done something to anger the fates. My mate, the sexiest man I have ever seen, and the one I was just about to suggest do unspeakable things to me, is currently doing some serious back-pedaling despite the scorching heat between us. And I know exactly why.

"Leila Jones, as in Alpha Jonathan Jones's daughter?" He asks again, his deep masculine voice laced with concern. It’s as if he is hoping the answer will have miraculously changed from the first time that he asked me.

His deliciously chocolatey brown eyes are shaded by his thick black brows, drawn down heavily under the weight of his frown. I wish I could rewind to thirty seconds ago. Before he knew who I was. Before he decided I wasn't worth the hassle. Before he realized that he was better off making his excuses and calling a halt to the evening.

Another person who is all too quick to write me off as just the pack princess. I should have refused to give him my name, maybe it would have made me seem mysterious and sexy rather than terrifying.

It had been the best evening of my life up until now, with easy laughter, smoldering glances, and subtle touches that have been sending my pulse racing. I know bears don't feel the mate bond the same way wolves do but I know he is feeling something powerful between us.

He doesn't seem like the type of man who lets loose too often but from the second I sat down beside him, he has had a glint in his eye and a witty remark at the ready. Just one tumble in the hay with this mountain of man would be enough, I pray to the Moon Goddess to just let me have that and I'll be happy.

But I already know that's a lie. One taste and I'd be hooked.

In all honesty, I was under his spell from the second I walked through the door and caught his woodsy scent. I wonder if I just leaned forward and kissed him with all that I have, whether I would be able to stop him from doing what he's about to do.

But I don't. Instead, I just nod like a coward as self-preservation wins out. If he is about to run away from me, it won't be quite as mortifying if he doesn't have to physically pry me off him.

"So, you know my father?" I ask casually, already knowing the answer. My father, as the alpha of the local pack, is widely known and respected, and more than a little feared, which translates to avoiding his daughter like the plague for pretty much every unmated male in the area.

Except for alpha males. They seek me out for this very reason. They want the power and prestige that comes from mating an elusive alpha female, but they’re interested in good breeding rather than me, or love. Most of them think a big bank account and a fancy house are enough to turn any woman's head. Personality and genuine feelings seem to be way down the list of qualities they are looking for, but that’s not what I want. My parents are fated mates, and all my life I’ve hoped and prayed that I’d be fortunate enough to find my own.

And here he is. Presented to me on a silver platter, appearing like some sort of hunky mirage, just sat there atop a barstool in my hometown dive bar, like he was waiting here just for me.

A bear as my mate makes perfect sense to me. I had never considered it before but when I saw him, I thought how clever the fates were, giving me a man who doesn't care about any of those things. A solitary animal, who does feel the need to bow and scrape to others. A dominant bear like this wouldn't be concerned with trivial things like pack politics and scary fathers. Or so I thought.

Except now I'm not so sure that the fates aren't just screwing with me. Dangling this delicious specimen in front of me just to whip him away from me again is plain cruel.

I realize now that the reason why this handsome stranger was in town and knew about our pack was something I should have paid more attention to before. Instead of mentally drooling over the strong thigh muscles that I can see flexing under his jeans and the bulging biceps stretching his shirt whenever he moves.

"I haven't met him yet." He says cautiously, sitting back in his chair and looking at me seriously.

Yet. Interesting.

I sigh and do the same, feeling the increased physical distance he is putting between us like a blast of ice-cold air. I want to be back in his arms on the dancefloor, face pressed to his warm muscular chest, swaying slowly together to the music, and basking in the happiness I had felt as he held me tight.

"What are you in town for Marcus?" I ask, getting straight to the point. I clasp my hands in front of me to stop myself from fidgeting and looking as nervous as I feel. The alpha wolf within me is torn between despairing over what is transpiring, and anger that our mate is pulling back from us. Particularly over who I am related to given it's clear he is no pushover. I've met plenty of bears before, and stubbornness is definitely a common trait. I can’t imagine there is much that can change this man’s mind.

"I'm the new Sheriff." He watches me closely for my reaction, but I simply smile and offer him my congratulations.

"That's brilliant, someone needs to get these rowdy shifters back in line. They've lost the run of themselves since Madeline retired," I pick up my beer and take a long draw, both of us eyeing each other like chess players, not willing to give anything away. If he’s the new law in town, that means he’ll be working closely with my father. I can already see where this is going. He doesn’t want to get involved with some needy little Daddy’s girl who’s going to go running to the Alpha when she gets her heartbroken, sending a whole heap of drama his way.

"So, I don't think .... maybe this isn't the best idea," he says coolly, and my wolves' hackles immediately go up. He narrows his eyes at me as he senses some of my alpha power when my anger flares, and he obviously either didn't anticipate or doesn't like it. Or both. Well, tough luck. He’s my mate. He’s not supposed to think as all the others do and assume that I’m some pampered brat.

"Fine," I stand up and yank my leather jacket off the back of my chair, throwing down a twenty on the bar from my pocket to cover my drinks. I'm not letting the guy who's rejecting me pay for my drinks, I have my pride.

Marcus lifts his eyes to heaven before rubbing a hand down his neatly trimmed thick dark beard.

"Leila, don’t go. Not like this," he asks quietly, and I can hear the genuine regret in his voice. I don't want his pity though, I want him to want me as I want him, with an all-consuming need that should be impossible to deny.

My wolf whimpers, anger shifting back to hurt, and I need to get out of here fast if I want to keep my dignity intact. I turn away from him, letting my dark hair fall around my face as I go to leave. His big hand catches my wrist, and a soft gasp escapes my lips as electricity shoots up my arm from his touch. His eyes jerk up to meet mine, and I know he felt it too.

This is just too unfair and I'm on the verge of breaking down. He pulls me back towards him gently, using his obvious strength to stop me from pulling away, but doing it carefully rather than aggressively. He tips my head up so I'm forced to meet his eyes and flinches when he sees the tears glistening there.

"Just let me go, Marcus. I just want to go home. Please don't make this worse than it already is," I whisper, looking down at where his large rough hand holds mine, unable to look into his soulful eyes for another second longer. The pain there seems to mirror my own and I can’t wrap my head around why he has completely shut down. He doesn't say a word, just slowly lets my hand drop.

I pull in a deep breath and turn on my heel, head held high as I push through the crowded bar towards the rear entrance. As soon as I get outside, I slam the door behind me and sink to the ground, letting the tears come as big sobs rack my body.

The best day of my life has now officially become the worst.