Lahat ng Kabanata ng TRUE MATE REJECTED: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

EthanAs I edge away from the table, I crack my knuckles with my thumbs, keeping my gaze pinned on Warrick. I goofed around with Luna too much, and now Warrick is pissed. I hope to put off the ass-chewing that’s sure to come my way for as long as I can.“You must be tired, Luna,” I say, my gaze flicking back and forth between Luna and my Alpha.Warrick busies himself with rolling a cigarette, but I know he’s tracking my every move.“You want me to sleep here?” she says, wiping her mouth with her sleeve and setting down her empty bowl.“Got somewhere better to go?” I ask.“No. Now that Mama’s gone…” Her voice trails off, and she sniffles.“Head on into the bedroom, and I’ll be there in a second,” I say, trying to be helpful by clearing the dinner dishes.Warrick strikes a match against the table and lights his smoke.Luna stands, coughs at the tobacco, and shuffles out of the room, looking like a lost kitten. And if there’s one thing I’m good at it, it’s taking care of the kitty.As I

LunaThe days pass in a blur as I get to know the three men who took me in while trying not to be a burden, be polite, and not bring them down with my grief. Sometimes, the pain of losing Mama hits me fresh, and I have to go curl up in the bed and hope I won’t wake up. I remember what she said about not trusting wolves, and also what they said about being outlaws, which is better than a pack and more trustworthy. Maybe they’re right. These men don’t seem so scary once I know them a little, though Warrick’s always grumpy and watches me with as much suspicion as I have of him.Over the next few days, Callan tends to me when I’m sad and makes sure I eat, Ethan teaches me how to wash the sheets so I can have a clean bed, and Warrick just watches when he’s around. They all go off to “a job,” which Ethan says is just another way of saying digging ditches, during most of daylight hours for a couple days. When they’re gone, I clean up the messy house some and wash the clothes that are scatter

LunaThe moon goes from full to new by the time I’m properly settled into the triplets’ house. About half the days, they all go off to what they call a job, which Ethan explains is really just a way to make money, which is something everyone apparently needs, though I don’t really understand why. I understand trading, but I can’t quite grasp why everyone agrees that green paper is important and that everything else can be traded for it.Nonetheless, I’m able to learn so much that every night, my brain feels like it will burst with all the new information and knowledge. I try to hold it all in, scared some of it will slip away and I’ll make a mistake like I did with the vampire, and that the triplets will reject me, too.One evening when Callan is in the middle of cooking, blasting the radio in the kitchen, and Warrick is hiding away in his room, I hear yelling outside. I jump up from the couch and run outside into the sultry evening air.Ethan’s on the ground on top of a guy, pummelin

WarrickLuna trails behind me as I stride from the house, heading for my custom- designed motorcycle. The salt air is kissing it into a bucket of rust, but nothing to do about that in these parts. My brothers and I worked on my baby for a solid year, testing and perfecting each change until we hit the sweet spot. She’s a vintage Harley, chopped low and mean like me. A chrome skull and crossbones leer from the handlebars, and the engine’s a loud growl, warning shifters and humans alike to get the fuck out of the way, ‘cause I’m going to blow through them, past them or over them. The frame’s been converted to a rigid hardtail, we added eight inches to the frame tube, and the steering neck rake is set at an angle of forty-five degrees.When I pull the motorcycle out of the garage and lean it on the kickstand, Luna climbs on the front. I bark out a laugh. Does she think I’m going to sit on the Queen seat?“You driving, sweetheart?” I say, towering over her. “You’re in the King’s seat.”Sh

CallanIt takes the better part of an hour to cleanse and tend Ethan’s wounds. That vampire did a number on him, barely missing his carotid artery, or I’d be a twin now, instead of a triplet.Bloody towels fill the kitchen sink, and crimson spatters cover the floor, but at least my brother is alive.I had to break out our best liquor to stitch Ethan up good and proper. Now that he’s shit-faced, I tie off the last thread on his neck and pat his shoulder. “Good as new.”Ethan opens his eyes—he’s kept them squeezed shut with a grimace on his face while I’ve stitched his neck. “You fucking done?”“Just about.” I grab the can of spray antiseptic we keep for moments like this and spritz some onto his wound. “The scar’ll leave you uglier than you already are. Want to see?”Ethan takes another swig of whiskey and shakes his head. “Nah. I trust you.”“Then let’s go deal with the body.”Pushing to his feet, he winces. “Damn. That fucking hurts.” He lifts his hand and touches my artistry sewn in