The Mall And Confessions

Sloane's POV

The long, half-hour drive to the mall gave Rhys plenty of time to recover from my furious pillow attack, though his wounded morning ego had swiftly been replaced by a different kind of dramatic panic. He spent the entire ride gripping the leather steering wheel and agonizing dramatically over a clingy human girl he had recently been seeing.

"She will not stop texting me, Sloane," he complained, running a stressed hand through his hair as we cruised down the highway. "It is like she expects me to check in with her every single hour of the day. I cannot handle this level of attachment."

I leaned my head against the cool passenger window and laughed out loud, thoroughly amused by his rising panic over the mundane situation. "You hooked up with her three times, what do you expect?"

He shot me a dark glare, groaning deeply at my total lack of sympathy. To be fair to him, the girl did sound lovesick and obsessive, but this was exactly the inevitable consequence of crossing lines with someone who was not your fated mate. The problem was that the pack boys always seemed to believe they could mess around with humans and enjoy the physical perks without dealing with the messy, lingering emotional attachments of teenage girls. They figured there would be zero consequences when their true mates finally showed up, leaving a trail of broken human hearts in their wake.

"I told her I didn't want anything serious," Rhys adamantly insisted, tapping his fingers nervously against the steering console. "But now I am going to have to meet up with her in person just to officially end things between us. She keeps demanding we talk about where this is going."

"Just don't make it a fourth hookup when you do," I teased, flashing him a wide grin.

He shook his head, though a playful smile finally broke through his stressed expression, stretching across his face as he pulled the car into the sprawling mall parking lot. Silas had already linked Rhys through the pack bond, letting us know the rest of the group had arrived and was waiting for us inside at the ice cream parlor.

We walked through the heavy main doors, the bustling noise of the weekend shopping crowd washing over us. I headed straight for the parlor counter, ordering two towering chocolate chip sundaes for Rhys and me. Within a few minutes, our server handed over the cold treats, and we navigated the crowded food court to slide into a booth alongside Silas and Gemma. Zane strolled in about twenty minutes later, sliding into the seat beside Silas with his signature relaxed posture.

The group's conversation quickly and inevitably shifted to Alpha Kaelen’s upcoming eighteenth birthday party scheduled for next Saturday. It was the most anticipated event of the season, and the nervous excitement practically buzzed off Gemma.

"So, what is the actual plan for next Saturday?" Gemma questioned, looking around the sticky table. "Are we all going to the party together or just meeting each other there?"

The boys exchanged a few nonchalant shrugs. Zane leaned back against the booth, crossing his arms over his chest. "Everyone is getting a ride over there anyway," he laid-backly suggested, always the easygoing one when it came to minor logistical decisions. "We should all just head over to the party around half past eight. Keep it simple."

Silas and Rhys nodded in agreement, seemingly happy with the straightforward decision. "Makes sense," Rhys generously offered, scooping a spoonful of his sundae. "When the night ends, my dad mentioned that he could send pack wolves to act as our ride home if we needed it. That way, nobody has to worry about navigating back in the dark."

As they ironed out the final details of Kaelen's party, I sat back and listened, my attention drifting inward. I noticed my wolf was unusually attentive to their words. Normally, she lingered quietly in the background, a subdued shadow buried deep within my consciousness, but her presence at the very front of my mind had been growing noticeably stronger lately. I could feel her distinct energy buzzing against my thoughts, her focus sharp and steady. It was a comforting, empowering sensation. It signaled that she finally seemed to be healing from the debilitating, suffocating grief of my parents' deaths that had kept her suppressed and mourning for the past year.

"What about you, Sloane?" Gemma turned to me, breaking my internal reflection. She hopefully asked, "Are you officially joining us for the party?"

I mentally groaned in conflict, my spoon freezing halfway to my mouth. I had never been the party type. Crowded rooms, pounding bass lines, and forced socialization drained my energy faster than a border patrol sprint. But as I carefully weighed my options, I realized my choices were remarkably bleak. If I stayed home on the night of the Alpha's monumental birthday, I would inevitably be dragged into grueling, merciless combat training with the Alpha himself the very next morning. Both options sounded like a pure nightmare, but nursing a potential headache in the dark corner of a party was marginally better than suffering through endless rounds of brutal sparring in the training dirt.

"I'll go," I finally confirmed, sealing my fate with a resigned sigh.

Gemma squealed in delight, clapping her hands together. "Perfect! But I need to grab something to wear while we are here."

I instantly regretted my words. Enduring Gemma's torturously slow and meticulous shopping habits throughout the mall was a test of sheer willpower. She was the definition of a shopping nightmare. She had to touch every single fabric on the rack, analyze every hemline, walk through the entire store, and then stubbornly walk through it all over again just to be sure she had not missed anything. I was the exact opposite. I knew what I wanted, located it, and bought it without a second thought.

After trailing behind her for what felt like an eternity, I finally broke away to scan the racks myself. My eyes caught on a specific hanger, and I pulled out a sleek, curve-hugging black dress. It featured delicate thin straps, fell perfectly an inch or two above my knees, and promised to fit like a second skin. It was understated but bold enough for an Alpha's birthday. I bought it immediately, though I still had to suffer through another agonizing hour of waiting before Gemma finally finalized her own vibrant dress choice.

We met back up with the guys near the mall entrance. They had been browsing for new trainers and looked just as ready to leave as I was. We exchanged our casual goodbyes, the group splitting up in different directions to head home. Rhys took my shopping bags from my hands, carrying them easily as we headed back through the parking lot to his car. He popped the trunk, tossing my purchases inside before dropping into the driver's seat.

"I am glad you are coming Saturday," Rhys said, flashing a reassuring smile as he started the engine. "I know parties are not your usual scene. You work way more than you socialize. But I have met Kaelen, his Beta Cal, and his Third in Command Tobias. It will be fine."

"Yeah, I am sure it will be fine," I responded, watching the trees blur past the passenger window. "It is good for me to get out a little more anyway. I have a lot of heavy border patrol shifts next week, so it will be nice to just enjoy myself at the party this weekend before the grind starts."

Rhys dropped me back home at the mansion, pulling smoothly into the wide driveway. I grabbed my bags, thanking him for the ride, and immediately retreated upstairs to the quiet sanctuary of my room. Downstairs, I could hear Dylan and Zane discussing ordering a massive group pizza dinner with the others, but my deeply exhausted body craved rest over food. The past few weeks of extra patrols and brutal sparring sessions had left my muscles aching and my mind drained. I opted to skip the lively dinner, leaving my new sleek dress hanging over my makeup chair. I stripped down to my underwear, pulled an oversized t-shirt over my head, and crawled under the heavy comforter, desperate to rest my body ahead of tomorrow's brutal training session.

Thursday night arrived with a cool, biting breeze that swept through the dense woodland. My border patrol shift with Cleo was remarkably quiet. We stuck to the southern edge of the territory, our massive paws eating up the miles of familiar forest terrain. Cleo’s parents were both elite trackers, and since she had only experienced her first shift six months ago, she was still in heavy, foundational training. Her wolf mirrored mine in many ways—we both had thick blonde coats speckled with brown, though my wolf boasted distinct brown paws.

The real difference between us lay in our sheer size and hardened experience. My rigorous, non-stop warrior training gave me a definitive, undeniable edge in stature and physical stamina.

As was our usual tradition, we finished our mandatory patrol route by shifting and racing each other through the dense forest all the way to the towering hilltop that overlooked our pack lands. Wolves naturally craved intense competition, and our friendly rivalry always brought a thrilling surge of adrenaline to my blood.

I pushed my powerful back legs harder, the damp earth flying out behind my digging claws. *Come on Cleo, taking it slow today?* I laughed through our mind-link, feeling her presence pushing hard just a few feet to my left.

She let out a fierce, determined growl in reply, digging her paws deeper into the soil as she forced her muscular frame to surge forward. The muscles in both our bodies burned and exerted themselves as we powered through the endless trees, seamlessly jumping over rotting logs and ducking under low-hanging pine branches.

*I am nearly there,* I teased through the link, spotting the jagged tree stump that served as our designated finish line. I launched my body forward in one massive leap, crossing the invisible line with yards to spare. I easily beat the newly-shifted blonde wolf, securing my usual victory.

Cleo huffed heavily, slowing her momentum before collapsing onto her belly in the tall grass. We laid panting heavily side by side, the warmth of our radiating bodies creating a comfortable, soothing pocket of heat against the cool night air. I rested my large head atop my front paws, staring out over the sprawling territory below, expecting her usual lively chatter to fill the quiet void between us.

Instead, Cleo was uncharacteristically silent. The quiet stretched on, shifting from peaceful to heavy and suffocating. I debated asking what was wrong, knowing I usually preferred to suffer my own burdens in silence, but before I could decide, she went rigid beside me.

*Sloane, can I ask you something?* she finally broke the quiet tension, shifting her weight nervously.

*Sure, of course you can,* I replied gently.

She let out a long, shuddering breath, her voice heavily tinted with profound sadness as she asked me how I felt about having a mate.

The question caught me off guard. I thought about the deep bond my parents had shared, the way they used to look at each other like they were the only two souls existing in the universe. "It is extraordinary and special," I told her truthfully, deeply yearning for the kind of pure, unbreakable love they had known. "I am not in a rush to find him, but I hope that when I do, it is everything it is made out to be. The tingles, the sparks, the need and want to be around them, a connection nobody else can feel but the two of you."

I waited for her response, but she met my romantic answer with a heavy, soundless, empty void in our mind-link. The sheer absence of her voice felt incredibly wrong. A sudden, shocking thought struck my mind like a physical blow.

"Cleo, have you found your mate?" I asked aloud, lifting my head to peer closer at her face in the shadows.

Her wolf’s eyes shone with raw, agonizing rejection and utter desperation in the pale moonlight as she slowly nodded her head.

"Oh Cleo, what happened?" I whispered, my chest tightening with immediate sympathy.

*He hasn't rejected me, but he is pushing me away,* she confessed miserably, the painful words tumbling out as her heart clearly broke in real-time. *He doesn't know what to do. He was in a relationship with another wolf in our pack and he is worried about hurting her. Yet he can't see that he is hurting me more.*

My own heart broke for her painful predicament. This subplot of our pack lives—the complicated, messy dynamics of pack relationships—was hard enough without the sacred bond of true mates being twisted by guilt and hesitation. She did not deserve to be sidelined by the one person meant to cherish and protect her soul.

"It will be alright Cleo," I advised her gently, nudging my snout against her shoulder to offer physical comfort. "You should talk to him about it. The longer you both leave it, the worse it will be. You cannot live in this painful limbo forever."

She let out a deep, shuddering sigh, the thick tension in her muscles easing just a fraction at my words. *You are right,* she agreed with me, resolving firmly in her tone. *I am going to confront him about it tomorrow before Kaelen's party. Otherwise, it is only going to be awkward, and it needs to be sorted out once and for all.*

Nodding my support, I bumped my shoulder playfully against hers, and we stood up on all fours to race back home.