The Beta's Forbidden Mate

Chapter Seven

I couldn't help it. I giggled.

Asher let out a long breath, his shoulders sagging as if he'd just relieved himself of a heavy burden.

The room was too quiet. I laughed again, holding my hand over my mouth as I waited for him to give up on the joke.

But he just stood there, watching my reaction.

'Wait, what the hell are you saying?" I finally asked, still unable to keep from smiling. "Is that code for something? Is it your gang name?"

He shook his head, and at the same time began removing his patched leather jacket, revealing a tattered black t-shirt. "No, Olivia. I am a werewolf. I am Asher Fenwood, Beta of the Shadow Moon Pack. And you are my mate."

This joke had gone on long enough. This guy was majorly screwing with me, or he was suffering from some kind of mental illness. Either way, I wanted him the hell out of my apartment.

Just keep him calm, I thought to myself. Don't let him get too close.

I slowly eased my hand in my purse, feeling the comforting weight of the pepper spray canister. "That's great, Asher Fenwood, Beta of the Shadow Moon Pack. But I really think you should go."

He sighed. "I knew this would be hard for you to accept."

I opened the door and swung it open a few feet. "Oh I'm very accepting. And I've accepted that it's time for you to leave. Now."

Asher didn't move toward the door. Instead, he grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and began to pull it off.

"Hey!" I pulled the pepper spray out of my purse and aimed it at him. "Stop right now!"

Asher froze midway through taking off his shirt. He rolled his eyes. "Damn it. I liked these jeans," he muttered.

Before I could ask what he meant, he exploded out of his clothes in a whir of dark motion.

The pepper spray canister fell from my hands and clattered to the floor.

Where Asher had been standing was an enormous wolf with shaggy, chocolate-brown fur. Its amber eyes glinted in the lights from my kitchen, gleaming with intelligence and understanding.

I stared at the wolf, and it stared right back at me.

No, not it. Him. It was Asher.

There was no denying it.

He was a werewolf.

The door of my apartment swung shut behind me as I stepped away.

My stomach heaved, and I clapped a hand over my mouth before sprinting to the bathroom. I barely made it before throwing up the contents of my stomach. Even when there was nothing left, I kept retching, until my mouth tasted like bitter acid and my whole body felt weak and shaky.

I collapsed onto the bathroom floor. From outside the door, I thought I heard a low-pitched whine, like an anxious dog.

I backed away from the sound, unable to accept what I had just seen.

Werewolves didn't exist. They were a scientific impossibility. Nothing more than an ancient superstition.

Except one was standing in my living room.

I swallowed and wiped the back of my hand over my mouth.

There was a werewolf in my living room.

And he'd said something about me being his mate.

At the thought, my treacherous body began to tingle from head to toe.

But what did that even mean?