Hunt Me! I Crave the Chase (Spooky Boys #3)

That while I knew he was my fated mate, to him, I was a stranger—and a scary one at that. Someone who had taken him, then disappeared, only to corner him in an alleyway when he was alone.

It didn’t matter that the moon had played a trick on me. That his soul should not have called to me the way it did. It didn’t matter that this was not something I had planned. That I had intended to protect him from a distance, and not up close. Because at that moment, I couldn’t think.

I could only act.

I worried I’d gotten this wrong?—

But then…like a brittle twig during dry season, Jeffrey snapped. Bit by bit, he melted into my embrace. His fluffy orange hair tickled my nose as he tucked his face inside my neck and the minute tremors in his body vibrated against me.

Relieved it no longer felt like he was about to run, I rubbed a hand up and down his back, nuzzling at his temple, a pleased rumble bubbling up inside my chest.

I wanted to ask him what was wrong—but I already knew what was wrong.

I’d left him.

And yet…here I was. Beside him once again, like I hadn’t decided to stay away for both of our own good. Mama had raised me on fairy tales. Stories of princes and knights, of happily ever afters. It didn’t feel natural to leave Jeffrey, even though it was the smart choice to make. Especially when it was my fault he was hurting in the first place.

Ever since I was a pup, I’d dreamed of the day I’d pick my mate and we’d rule the pack together. I would glance through the catalogs Dad brought home, hearts in my eyes, my tail wagging.

I knew that was my destiny.

Because that’s what alphas have to do.

And yet…here I was. Wrapped around my very human fated mate. A man who should not have made my heart sing, but did. A man who was confusing, arousing, and mine-mine-mine in a way that nothing ever had been before. A man that I could not keep, no matter how badly I wanted to, because keeping him would mean my death.

I’d promised myself I was only here to protect him.

That watching from afar would be enough.

But it wasn’t.

It wasn’t.

Because there was no way I was giving this up—at least…not until I had to.

Eventually, Jeffrey’s arms curled around me in return. His grip was weak—especially for a man of his size—but it was welcome all the same. He may have been muscular himself, large in all the ways that counted, but my mate was prey, and there was no denying that. And he seemed to know that too if the plume of near-constant fearscent that exuded from him was an indicator.

We hugged for a long time.

For long enough the sun sank low and the moon began to climb high into the sky.

He didn’t cry.

And his bloody knuckles left smears on the back of my borrowed shirt.

When his stomach growled, I gently peeled my head away from where it’d been buried in his hair for the last hour. For so long I’d avoided speaking, it felt unnatural and odd—but when I was with Jeffrey my words came easy.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, shocked by how low and rough my voice sounded.

Jeffrey shook his head, but his stomach growled, betraying him again. “I’m not hungry.” I could hear the lie in his words.

“I am,” I said, because it was true. I was always hungry.

“Oh…” His voice was quiet. Like he was terrified of taking up too much space. Like he wasn’t sure who or what he was—lost as his eyes told me he was. “You can go if you want to.”

Why would I?—

Oh.