The Alpha's Other Woman by Vielle Nye (read a book .txt) 📗

4 Jolted

Carrie

I didn’t know why I was bothering to think about my asshole ex right now. Maybe because even after everything, he still seemed a lot better than my actual mate, at least he had until he found his mate, as sad as that was. My mate’s rogue thugs shut the door behind me, and I walked around the trailer, inspecting the small space where my mate lived, pushing back my wolf’s push to shift again while the moon was full. Instead of giving in to that temptation, I made sure to touch everything I passed as much as possible so he would know by my scent that I had nosed around his home. Served him right for confining me here.

I started in the kitchen. The cupboards were half empty, and the fridge had little more than some leftovers, beer and energy drinks. Apparently my mate took really good care of his health, I scoffed. The living room was occupied only by a couch, coffee table and recliner, organized around a television, which seemed to be the highlight of the space. I wandered down the hall and looked in the closets and bathroom. It was clean, but nearly empty like the rest of his living quarters.

At the end of the hall were two bedrooms. One was obviously his because it was saturated in his scent.

I looked in the other one first.

It smelled unused, with only the faintest scent of my mate inside. There was a bed, and when I checked the small dresser, it was empty.

If he was going to make me stay here, I was definitely going to sleep in this room. Last thing I needed was to get my heart trampled on again by some man who did not really want a future with me.

Finally, I went into his room, and my wolf was pleased that it only smelled like him. I ignored her pathetic contentment since it didn’t do me any good that he wasn’t bringing other females here if he didn’t want me here with him, either.

I was probably trespassing, but I really did not care. In fact, I wanted him to know. He shouldn’t have confined me here if he didn’t want me poking around.

His bed was larger than the one in the other room, and it would better accommodate his bulk. I peeked into his closet and saw it was half full with his nearly monochromatic clothing, lots of t-shirts and cargo pants, but a few more formal things. I peeked in his drawers and saw underwear and socks in neat rows, not what I would have expected from my first glance at him. I wondered if he did his own laundry or if some poor lower rogue was forced to do it for him. Still wrapped in the blanket the female wolf had given me, I picked through his clothing until I found shorts with a drawstring and a t-shirt to wear.

After finishing my search of his bedroom, touching everything as much as possible so he couldn’t miss that I had been in there, I had to practically drag myself out because my wolf was begging me to stay forever.

If it didn’t smell so much like him, I would almost believe he didn’t spend any time here. Frustrated, I gave up and slouched out to the main area, looking for something to do while I waited for him to probably not come and deal with me.

This situation felt similar to when Asshole Dane found his mate, me waiting and alone, and my heart felt raw with the memory.

I shook off that feeling of rejection. I had been getting over it. What I hadn’t needed was another male in my life to remind me that I was second place, the other, a supporting character in some moon goddess’s drama.

I glared around the kitchen and living room. The place wasn’t much, and I wasn’t in the mood to be understanding. If he had been excited to have found me, I would have happily lived in one of the tents or campers I had spotted in groups near the edge of the clearing, or even in the forest in my wolf form.

But not with that awful attitude. If he was that displeased with me, he should just have let me go. I could already feel our inconvenient bond pulling at me and trying to soften me towards him, but there was absolutely no way that I was putting my heart on the line again. Not when he didn’t even want me. I couldn’t afford that weakness.

What I needed was his name. I didn’t need it to reject him, but if I was going to do this, I was going to sever it properly. I wasn’t going to prostrate myself and beg for my own mate’s acceptance. Frustrated and restless, I searched his trailer again, this time specifically for information, but came up empty. This trailer seemed determined to keep my mate anonymous.

It didn’t take much time to thoroughly search the entire place a second time. There was nothing with his name on it, not a paper, not a nostalgic childhood toy with a name, nothing. He appeared to be a minimalist, and his one virtue—besides that handsome face and excellent body that I was absolutely not thinking about—was the neatness. The more I considered it, the more I believed that the faint traces of other werewolves were too faint to have been here long enough to clean up after him.

So maybe there was one good thing about the joke of a mate I had been stuck with, other than his striking appearance, which I absolutely was not going to be thinking about. It wasn’t enough to balance all the other detriments.

Besides Asshole Dane, I’d dealt with enough alphas as acting luna to know what I was getting into with being mated to one. They were possessive, controlling, and arrogant, and that was just the better ones. The most egregious spanned the gamut of the worst personality traits known to werewolfkind. I’d experienced even worse examples of various alphas’ cold bigotry when I had tried to find a pack to take me in after I had become a rogue.

There probably were exceptions, but I clearly wasn’t that lucky, I thought as I walked around the trailer again and scoped out the windows. The only ones that opened that were big enough to even think about getting out of were in the master bedroom and one by the door, and a quick peek showed me that both were being guarded.

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