The UnMated

I'm Wallace, and I don't believe in the mate bond.

Sure, mates are part of our ancestry—a tradition woven into the fabric of being a wolf. But a mate as your soulmate, the love of your life? Absolute bullshit.

Take my father, for example. Do you think he married my mother because he loved her? Please. He married her because she was his mate. His exact words about the mate bond? "The lust must be consummated, or it would've been... inconvenient." Romantic, right?

And the love of his life? Oh, he made her his mistress. Forever the side piece, never the Luna. Unmarked, childless, and stuck in a limbo where she wasn't enough to claim but too much to let go.

So yeah, screw the mate bond. Spare me the soul-deep connection nonsense.

There are millions of wolves out there. Why settle for one, when you can have them all?

I snapped back to the present as my Beta, Dudz, approached me, his face etched with mild disapproval. "You seem to be enjoying your welcome-back party, Alpha" he said, his eyes flicking toward the gaggle of women crowding my table, all vying for my attention.

"Sure am," I said with a smirk, planting a quick kiss on the cheek of the brunette to my right and a lingering one on the lips of the blonde to my left.

Dudz's expression morphed into a look of pure disgust. He was one of those old souls who believed in the sanctity of the mate bond. Hell, he'd been saving himself for his mate like some kind of monk.

I rolled my eyes and hushed the women away. "Go dance, ladies," I said smoothly, knowing exactly what was coming.

As they giggled and disappeared into the crowd, I leaned back, bracing myself for Dudz's inevitable attempt to preach the gospel of the mate bond.

Dudz leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, his expression as serious as a sermon. "Wallace, you can't outrun the Moon Goddess forever. One day, you'll wake up, and she'll smack you with the mate bond so hard, you'll choke on your own arrogance."

His voice dropping to that irritatingly wise tone he used when he was about to say something profound. "One day, you'll meet her—the one wolf who'll change everything. And when you do, you'll regret everything you have done so far..."

I snorted, standing up and stretching. "The one who will regrets, not playing around is you."

The conversation ended there, as Dudz shook his head, muttering something about my future being doomed. I just laughed at him.

The rest of the night blurred into more drinks, laughter, and eventually, nothingness.

When I woke up the next morning, it was to the sharp bite of sunlight and the distinct ache of having slept in a position not meant for wolves—or humans, for that matter.

I groaned, rubbing my eyes as I took in the scene. The bar's private room was a battlefield of empty glasses, toppled chairs, and—oh, right—a tangle of naked bodies sprawled across the floor and furniture.

"Good party," I muttered to myself, smirking as I stepped over limbs to grab my clothes.

After dressing and splashing some water on my face, I left the bar and slid into my car. The engine roared to life with a purr that always brought a sense of calm, even on mornings like this. But that calm didn't last long.

Halfway down the steep hill leading away from the bar, I pressed the brake—and nothing happened.

"Shit," I hissed, slamming the pedal harder. The car barely slowed, the steering wheel shaking in my hands as I fought to control the descent.

I managed to swerve onto the gravel shoulder near the bottom of the hill, killing the engine just as the car skidded to a stop.

I looked around and saw a weathered sign caught my eye: Rust & Growl Auto Shop. Well, lucky me.

I pushed open the door of my car and stepped out, the air thick with the scent of grease, burnt rubber—and something else.

It was faint at first, but as I walked closer to the shop, it hit me like a punch to the chest. Earthy, sharp, and impossible to ignore. My wolf stirred, his growl low and possessive, as if for the first time ever he felt his soulmate.

"No," I muttered under my breath. "This can't be..."

The pull was maddening and my feet drags me. They carried me straight through the open garage doors, following that damn scent.

And there she was.

Bent over an open hood, wild curls spilling loose from a ponytail, a wrench in her hand like it was an extension of her arm. Oil streaked her tank top, clinging in ways that should've been illegal. "Be with you in a minute," she said without looking up, her voice brisk and unaffected. Then she straightened, turning to face me, and boom. Sharp green eyes locked onto mine.

Mate.

The word slammed into me like a freight train. No witty comeback. No snarky deflection. Just... mate. My wolf stirred, purring mate, mate, mate like a rabid animal, desperate to claim, to mark.

"Welcome to Rust & Growl." She pause… did she just frozed? "How can I help you?" she asked, her tone was light.

I opened my mouth, but my name came out instead. "Wallace." What the hell? Why was I introducing myself?

She raised an unimpressed brow. "Well then," she said, her tone clipped, irritation practically radiating off her.

Doesn't she feel it?

"Sir Wallace, what seems to be the problem?" she asked again, while I stood there, dumbfounded, wondering why she wasn't clutching at me, breathlessly declaring I was her mate and that she was the One. Isn't that how this is supposed to go?

I swallowed hard, shoving my wolf back as he snarled to break free. "My brakes gave out coming down the hill."

She tilted her head, no hint of concern, just mild irritation. "I'll take a look."

As she brushed past me, her scent hit harder—earthy, electric, intoxicating. My body moved on its own, my hand catching her arm.

"Don't you smell that?" My voice came out deeper, rougher. Damn it, I sounded so desperate.

Her eyes flashed with a glint of, is that gold? before snapping back to green. "Smell… what? Oh, the grease and oil? Sorry about that. I just finished working on an old truck. But don't worry — we offer subzero air cleaners. Your car won't leave smelling like the shop."

She smirked, wiping her hands on her apron like this was just another day at work. Meanwhile, I was fighting the urge to drop to my knees and let my wolf take over.

Before I could say another word, she shouted, "Dad! Customer! Paperwork!" and strode toward my car without a backward glance.

I stood there, stunned. What the hell was happening? Was she seriously this unaffected?

A man appeared moments later, older, graying, with sharp eyes that gave me the once-over. He moved deliberately, like someone who didn't tolerate bullshit.

"You're the one with the busted brakes?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, handing him my business card while my eyes betrayed me and drifted back to her. She was crouched by my car now, tools in hand, completely absorbed.

The man glanced at the card. "Wallace. Oh, the Alpha's son? Heard you just got back to take over for your father, The Alpha, Congratulations."

"Yeah, that's right," I replied, still sneaking glances at her. "It wasn't official yet.

"I'm Robert, Alpha" he said, giving me a firm nod. "That's my daughter, Marrae. She's the real mechanic around here. I just deal with the boring stuff."

"She's... a mechanic?" I muttered, barely aware of the words leaving my mouth.

Robert raised a brow, his gaze flicking between me and Marrae. "She is. Knows her way around an engine better than most wolves know their way around their own packs."

I nodded, unable to stop staring. She worked with such focus, her movements precise and confident, but my wolf wasn't impressed with her skill. No, he was too busy going feral over the way her skin glinted in the sunlight, the faint blush under the grease, the scent that made every cell in my body buzz.

"Alpha?" Robert's voice snapped me out of it. "Your registration and insurance?"

"It's in the car," I said, grateful for an excuse to go near her.

I approached cautiously. "Is it okay if I open the door?"

She didn't respond right away, her focus locked on whatever part of my car she was tinkering with. I cleared my throat and leaned closer. "Marrae?" I called her name with no reponse.

"Are you okay?" The second I touched her shoulder, a soft, almost involuntary sound escaped her lips—a whimper.

Her head snapped up, and her eyes were molten gold now, wide and startled. She looked at me like I'd just set her world on fire, then jerked back like she'd been burned.

Without a word, she bolted toward the counter, jump over and enter the house leaving me and her father there, stunned and speechless.

What the hell had I done?