I am the Unwanted Mate

Quinnie

As cliché as it may sound, I despise parties, especially the ones involving my parents and relatives. Because I know exactly what's going to happen when relatives are present.

But turning down a party offer on your own birthday isn't really an option...

Fuck my life.

"Oh my god! Quinnie! Is that you, honey? Holly Molly! It's been so long!" Aunt Hannah exclaimed, enveloping me in one of her bone-crushing hugs.

Awww, here we go, the affectionate displays.

"You've grown up so much!" She gushed once again.

What the hell are you talking about, woman? You literally saw me just last week. The only things that have grown in that time are my armpit hair and a slight mustache.

You see, I'm a brunette. So, my facial hair doesn't naturally blend with my skin. And being a werewolf, I have the delightful ability to grow body hair at an accelerated rate, which annoys me to no end.

Sometimes I wonder if my wolf ever gets jealous of the amount of hair on my skin...

"So, where is your mate?" She asked, scanning the room.

She knows I haven't found my mate, but she still likes to ask every time. Just to rub it in.

This little B for Bitch.

"Haven't found one yet," I whispered softly, the disappointment and sadness evident in my tone.

I've always longed to find my mate. After hearing those dreamy stories about mates, witnessing the unbreakable bond between my parents, and seeing my school friends fall in love so effortlessly, it's hard not to hope.

And I was hopeful.

I know my mate will love me, and I will love him. That's what mates are supposed to be like, right?

Right?

...

I excused myself to get a drink, needing a momentary escape from Aunt Hannah's irritating questions.

Don't get me wrong, she's not a terrible person. But she's far too proud of herself and her family.

Her son holds a prominent position in the pack army, and her daughter has ventured out of state for her studies.

Perfect, isn't it?

Well, at least that's what she believes.

In reality, her son is running an underground gang within the pack, and her daughter is too caught up in the streets of New York, getting high.

Anyway...

As I approached the drinks table, I opted for a simple glass of lemonade today, even though it's my 18th birthday.

While most people would get wasted on this day, I couldn't be less interested.

I'd rather stay sober and cherish the memories than get drunk and pass out.

Not that I anticipate anything memorable happening anyway.

Just a few steps away from the bar, the lights suddenly went out. I heard groans and shook my head, trying to find my way out.

Unintentionally, I bumped into someone, and they let out a hiss. Judging by their strength, it was clearly a man.

Also, when I collided with "the person," I felt a solid, iron chest instead of, you know, uh... breasts.

So, it's a guy.

Well, unless the girl is as flat-chested as me, then perfect! I've found my soul sister!

He hissed at me, and embarrassment immediately painted my cheeks crimson.

"Oh my god! I'm so sor—" I gasped as our hands touched, leaving me at a loss for words.

Sparks.

Sparks like never before erupted throughout my body, and I felt my wolf stirring within me.

I've just turned 18, so my wolf hasn't come to me yet. I haven't even shifted.

But within a fortnight of turning 18, you experience your first shift.

I shook my head, dismissing these unnecessary thoughts, and decided to savor this moment.

I've found my mate! Finally!

Instinctively, my hand reached out to touch his face. I was already yearning to feel those tingles once more.

When our skin made contact again, he inhaled sharply.

And so did I.

My fingers gently caressed his cheek, relishing the sensation of his rough stubble. I yearned to see his face so desperately. Why did the lights have to go off at this moment?

As I leaned in, attempting to make out his features, the lights suddenly flickered back on, and a part of me felt relieved.

I raised my gaze to meet the warm eyes of my mate, hoping to find love reflected in them. I longed for the same affectionate look I had witnessed my father give my mother throughout their lives.

But did I receive it?

No.

Instead, all I encountered was an icy glare and a disdainful snark from someone I had known my entire life.

"YOU?" he bellowed in anger, his Beta voice echoing through the hall.

I yearned to say something, to inquire what was wrong. I wanted to declare that I was his mate and that I would love him eternally.

Yet, he never allowed me the opportunity to do so.

With a forceful push, he sent me tumbling backward. I landed on the ground, sitting on my rear, my eyes fixed on him in a state of shock and bewilderment.

His hands curled into fists as he continued to glare at me. "KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF ME, BITCH!" he spat before storming away.

The flicker of connection I had felt with my wolf in the beginning had vanished entirely, replaced by an overwhelming sense of agony and loss.