Rejecting The Pack: I Need One Mate

Caleb's patience thinned. He pushed the herbs forward again, the leaves almost brushing the fabric of Kala's dress.

A low, vibrating growl echoed from the yard below. Armond's foot pressed against the stone path, and a hairline crack snaked out from his boot.

Kala smiled. It was a polite, empty thing.

She reached out. But she didn't take the stems. Her fingers pinched the very edge of the broad leaf wrapping the bouquet. She plucked it from his hand without a single millimeter of skin contact.

Caleb's hand hung in the air, empty. A flash of disappointment crossed his face.

"Thank you, Caleb," Kala said, her voice crisp and professional. "I will deliver this to Augusta Frye immediately. I will make sure to tell her of your contribution to the clinic."

The words were a slap in the face dressed as a compliment. She had taken his romantic gesture and filed it under 'public donation.'

Caleb's jaw tightened. The careful mask slipped for a second, revealing the anger beneath.

From the yard, Evan let out a loud, mocking snort.

Caleb took a sharp breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Will you be collecting dew at the forest edge tomorrow?" he asked, trying again. "I could escort you."

"No," Kala said instantly. "I will be processing these herbs all day. I will be at the clinic."

Caleb's pride stung. He was the elite warrior of the pack, and this female was treating him like a delivery boy. He wanted to push, to demand, but her smile was so perfectly polite that he had no angle of attack.

Armond finally moved. He walked up the steps, his massive body filling the space between Kala and Caleb. He looked down at the younger male, his eyes cold and dismissive.

"Padilla family dinner," Armond said, his voice a deep rumble. "No outsiders allowed. Get out."

Caleb's fists clenched at his sides. He knew he had lost this round. He gave Kala a stiff, formal warrior's bow, turned on his heel, and walked down the steps.

As he passed Evan, Caleb threw a look of pure, unmasked contempt at the boy.

Evan bristled, his hand flying to his knife, but a sharp look from Armond froze him in place.

Caleb disappeared into the darkness. The oppressive atmosphere on the porch finally lifted.

Armond turned around and immediately snatched the Pearl-grass from Kala's hands. He held it away from his body like it was a dead rat.

"Take this filth," Armond grumbled, shoving the bundle into Evan's chest. "Throw it at that old woman Augusta first thing tomorrow."

Kala laughed out loud, the sound ringing clear in the night. She pushed open the heavy wooden door of the cabin.

Warm, orange light spilled out, along with the mouth-watering smell of roasting meat.

Kala stepped into the entryway. She was just bending down to unlace her boots when Evan's voice rang out from behind her.

"Kala!" Evan whined, his tone dripping with sour jealousy. "You were so nice to him. You didn't have to be that polite. Don't tell me you actually like that fake guy?"