w," she begins, licking her lips. "If you'd take a mate, you'd be the s

steps and lower myself onto them,

I became Alpha of the Jacksonville pack. I just haven't found the right partner. Holding out hope for a True Mate is a romantic notion that I should have outgrown a long time ago. A True Mate is like a soul mate to a human. It's a wonderful thing,

"You know," she says in a dulcet voice. Her fin

ucked Ama and know she's not my True Mate, but she'd be a good mate nonetheless. The thought sits un

l," she says, walking

time for this right now. I've got

own creasing her brow

ll

ers to my chest. "

old pickup, not looking

nt painted all

aying water in a rooster tail behind me. I have

t not d

clan used to live there. Now, it's nothing but a waterlogged cesspool where panther shifters hunt

ough I'm convinced I don't have a True Mate, I have to make damn sure before I choose someone else to fill the role. I c

y, liquid embrace of the swamp. More gators make their presence known by the bulge of their eyes lining the surface of the water. Spanish moss drapes

atting mosquitos as I go. Grabbing the bell, I shake it back and forth, making it cl

here already, shifter?" cal

try and find her, but the sun prevents me from seein

cted your desire to come and see me the second you stepped from your porch." A phleg

he sun to give me information. "What's th

ast. I ne

t, but I don't look away. I've heard this lady'

e under my breath. "I'll give y

l pr

't hav

n answer for you. Go

u!

and rustle in the fo

eho

lanking her dwelling. "Come down so I can talk to you f

cash, we have nothing

like leaves rust

h. It's supposed to hold me until the end of the mo

ths," she

with silence. If I give her two-thirds of what I have, I can live on

bag slides down fro

ace it in the bag and yank on

't, you just los

mosquitos as I wait. Above me, I hear a faint, steady swish of paper on pap

nce greets me. I hope I haven't pissed her off enough to m