Chapter 0459

I turned fifteen last weekend.

I'd been hoping to find my mate on my actual birthday, but fate had other plans. Alistair and I spent both Friday and Saturday nights searching every corner of our territory, convinced she had to be nearby. When that didn't work, I resigned myself to the idea we'd have to travel beyond our borders to locate her.

Alistair turns eighteen in a few months, but he's already convinced Seraphina Grey is his destined mate. The problem? She wants nothing to do with him.

It's driving him insane.

Women have always thrown themselves at us—age never mattered. We've both had partners old enough to be our mothers. Until now, rejection was a foreign concept.

I found the whole situation hilarious.

Until Monday morning.

The moment I stepped onto the training grounds, an intoxicating scent hit me—citrus and spice, warm ginger with a hint of orange blossom. My wolf Evander snarled in my head, demanding I follow it.

I found Ivy Sinclair pinning Silas to the mat.

Silas, Alistair's future Lead Warrior. The strongest fighter in our pack besides me. Or so I'd thought, until Ivy flipped him like he weighed nothing.

Evander didn't like seeing her atop another male. Not one bit.

Her chestnut curls were tied back, revealing striking sapphire eyes that gleamed with victory. I'd trained her for years alongside Alistair, but I'd never truly seen her until that moment.

Strong. Skilled. Breathtaking.

Pride surged through me—my mate was a warrior.

Then she looked at me with the same icy disdain Seraphina showed Alistair.

Suddenly, it wasn't funny anymore.

Worse? She genuinely disliked me.

Evander needed proximity, so I swapped partners in Chemistry. What I discovered unsettled me—she wasn't just strong and beautiful. She was brilliant.

Thankfully, I took the subject seriously. As a Guardian, chemical knowledge could mean life or death—whether countering supernatural poisons or hunter concoctions.

When she accused me of only wanting her in my bed, reality hit hard.

Yes, I'd been reckless with partners. But I'd never led anyone on—they knew it was temporary. I'd always wanted my mate; I just hadn't considered how my past might hurt her.

None of the others cared about my history.

Ivy did.

That's why she's mine.

Now I had damage control to do.

First step? Learn her birthday. Then, convince her to accept our bond before she turns eighteen and feels the pull.

Two classes later, I slumped in Literature, debating whether to nap through another lecture on dead poets. Then her scent flooded my senses.

My eyes snapped open as she passed my desk, taking a seat three rows ahead.

How had I never noticed her in this class before?