Old Enough Now?

MAX

Estella turned eighteen just last week.

Time’s been flying by.

Part of me wishes she could stay young forever. As she grows, things get more complex, and I can’t handle the expectant looks from everyone who knows she’s my destined one.

My parents are the worst, especially my mom. It’s hard to believe that she once opposed the idea of me being mated with a human girl.

Now, she adores Estella so much that no one would ever guess she had reservations.

My dad’s a bit more laid back, but he still thinks it’s time for me to tell Estella the truth and deal with whatever comes next.

Patrick and Eva seem to agree… but there’s something off about Eva. She’s been urging me to talk to Estella with a sense of urgency that I find strange.

I asked her straight up if she’d had a vision about us, but she denied it. She just echoed what everyone else has been saying: it’s time.

But I don’t think it is. Estella’s about to graduate high school and she’s considering studying abroad.

If I tell her we’re mates and she accepts it, I’m sure she’ll drop everything for the sake of our bond. Or rather, for my sake. The thought excites my wolf, but I don’t like it.

She’s young and talented. I can’t hold her back. I won’t.

But it’s getting harder and harder not to give in, especially when I know I’d be attracted to her even if we weren’t mates.

If I met her now, not knowing who she was, I’d still want her. I can’t say if it would be for a night or a lifetime because my current feelings cloud my judgment.

But I think I’d feel what humans call love at first sight.

Everyone I know, sooner or later, falls for her in some way. She’s not perfect. She has flaws, and I see them, but her virtues outweigh them.

I should mention that she’s beautiful.

I don’t say it enough, probably because I try not to think about it. But she’s the perfect mix of attractive and cute.

As a child, she was mostly cute. A smart, adorable little girl. The kind of kid you enjoy being around and spoiling.

She wasn’t overly demanding, but when she wanted something, it had to be done. She was caring, stubborn, sweet, and perceptive.

These traits followed her as she grew up, and I was proud of who she was becoming, even when she was reckless, especially during her training.

She was always trying to push past her human limitations, often getting hurt in the process. But she’d insist it was nothing and refuse to let me treat her.

“Don’t make me look weak, Max,” she’d complained a year ago when she got a nasty cut that wouldn’t stop bleeding.

“I’m not going to let you die just so you can act tough,” I’d scolded her.

“I am tough,” she’d argued.

And she is.

She’s also becoming harder and harder to resist. With that boy in the picture, I had to suck it up and let her live her life since I couldn’t do anything about it. But lately…

Lately, I’ve been finding it hard to control my physical reaction to her.

I keep it in check. I suppress everything my nature stands for: possessiveness, jealousy, overprotectiveness, lust.

To an outsider, I probably look like an older brother looking out for his younger, reckless sister.

No one knows how hard it is for me (no pun intended) to sleep at night when I think about her, especially if I’ve seen her or touched her recently.

Sometimes, I give in.

Not completely, because I won’t allow myself that, but I’ve held her closer than I should and kissed her face and neck (the latter at my wolf’s urging), letting my lips linger.

On every spot.

It always thrills me how responsive she is and how ready to take it to the next step if I make the move.

The way her eyes look at me sometimes, as if urging me to claim her, is the biggest turn-on I’ve ever experienced.

But I always push my feelings aside, letting reason take over.

Everyone’s amazed at how I’ve managed to resist my need for her for years, especially when she’s always within reach.

The truth is, I don’t know how I do it.

I guess my need to do what I think is right for her overshadows everything else, along with my fear that she won’t fully accept me when she learns what completing our bond really means.

ESTELLA

Let me fill you in on the past two years because I know time jumps can be confusing and cliffhangers are the worst.

I went for ice cream with Matt the day after Max made a scene outside school, and he sort of became my boyfriend.

No, that didn’t mean I stopped loving Max, but Matt was cute, and we were the same age. I was lucky to have him while it lasted.

You’ve probably heard how boys can be demanding—especially about sex—at that age, or how they’re only after a girl’s virginity and then they lose interest.

That’s mostly true. That’s why I say I was lucky.

Matt was a good guy. We kissed, we cuddled, and even though I knew he wanted more, he was careful not to push me, which I appreciated.

He often came over to my house, and even my uncle, who’s always suspicious of everyone, approved of him.

He wasn’t my first. No one has been. But he was my first real-life kiss.

Can I confess something?

That kiss in my dream is still the best kiss I’ve ever had. It’s not that Matt was a bad kisser or that he wasn’t passionate—he was.

But he was also too careful, and as much as I enjoyed kissing him, I never lost myself in it.

Maybe that’s because I wasn’t in love with him. I liked him a lot, though, and I was sad when he told me his family was moving to another city at the end of the school year.

We agreed that a long-distance relationship wouldn’t work, so we decided to stay friends—or at least friendly.

We kept in touch every few months, and a year later, he told me he’d found a girl.

I can honestly say I didn’t feel a twinge of jealousy. In fact, I was genuinely happy for him.

But I wasn’t—I’m not—exactly thrilled for myself. This is my final year of high school, and Matt is my first and only boyfriend.

I’m still in love with Max. But I don’t see that leading anywhere.

Sure, he hasn’t found his mate yet, and yes, I still see him a lot. But I think that just makes things more complicated.

Sometimes, I can’t tell if it’s just my imagination, but I often sense this tension between us. Like we’re both on the edge of… I don’t even know what!

There are times when his grip on me tightens in a way that feels good, and we’ve come dangerously close to kissing more than once.

I mean, we’ve been so close to kissing that I’ve almost kissed him on the corner of his mouth and heard him growl softly.

After that, he didn’t visit our house for a week, and whenever I went to the pack, he avoided me. Could it all just be in my head?

Part of me hoped that as I got closer to coming of age, he might start seeing me differently.

But despite his lingering kisses on my cheek and his tight hugs, it seems that was just wishful thinking.

Nothing changed, even after my birthday.

Any other girl would have given up by now, and I’m amazed at myself for still holding onto hope.

I don’t know if I can explain it in a way that makes sense to anyone else, but to me, Max is irresistible. In every way. I can’t pinpoint exactly why.

Sure, he’s handsome (as I’ve mentioned before, I think all wolves are blessed with good looks), but he’s more than that. So much more.

His personality, the way he makes me feel when I’m around him… Even his scent… it’s the most comforting smell in the world.

If I didn’t know that werewolves don’t mate with humans, I’d think these were signs that we were mates. But I can’t let myself entertain such impossible thoughts.

I mean, what good would that do me in the long run?

Now, enough about my hopeless, human feelings. Let’s talk about my friends.

They’re all doing well, which is honestly the most important thing. Although, considering most of them are supernatural creatures, there’s less chance of anything bad happening to them.

Remember those organized attacks from rogues a few years ago? They stopped suddenly and never happened again.

I’ve heard Patrick and Rohan say it was a test to see if they could breach our borders and take over.

They said more, but aside from my training (which I’ve kept up with, thank you very much), I’m not really involved in their business.

I just overhear their conversations now and then.

From what I’ve gathered, they’re still on high alert.

Eva and Patrick are as happy as ever, and their kids are growing up beautifully. The boys are already as tall as me, and Lucia is becoming more and more like her mother every day.

I have a soft spot for her. I admit it. But how could I not when I was the first person—after Max—to hold her when she was born?

Plus, she has the most amazing wolf I’ve ever seen. She’s what they call an early shifter, and I was honored to be there the first time it happened.

It looked incredibly painful, but her wolf… It was a deep blue with streaks of silver and glowing silver eyes. Absolutely stunning.

Lately, she’s been begging me not to go anywhere.

I don’t know why or what she means. It started when I told her I was probably going to Paris in the fall.

I was lucky enough to be accepted as a special talent at an arts university, and it would be a waste to pass up the opportunity.

I explained that to her and promised I’d visit often, but she still nagged me about it.

However, she didn’t complain when I announced that Sarah, Caleb, and I were going on a long summer trip with Max as our chaperone.

When I asked why she didn’t protest that, she simply said, “You’ll be with Max.”

It didn’t seem like a good enough reason, but to me, it made sense.

Anyway. Rohan still hasn’t found his mate, and Bonnie just broke up with the guy she’d been dating for the past year. Her reason? She fell out of love.

I’ve told her time and time again that since she has a mate out there, she shouldn’t expect a lifelong relationship with a mere human, but she always brushes me off.

“Let’s just pretend I’m as human as you are,” she said.

“But you’re not,” I pointed out the obvious.

“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t make my own destiny,” she retorted stubbornly.

Bonnie never wanted to focus on her wolfish nature.

I respected that, but I also had my suspicions about her mate. If I was right, they’d be the most adorable match the world has ever seen.

I mean, the balance between those two would be perfect. But there’s nothing I can do about it.

I’m just glad that I helped bring at least one werewolf couple together. I’m talking about Sarah and Caleb, of course.

Sarah, the alpha girl, turned eighteen a few months before I did, and they were finally able to mark each other. If you think they waited until then to have sex, think again.

There’s no way a wolf can control his raging hormones when he finds his mate.

Patrick took the time to explain it to me when I complained that my two best friends were going at it like rabbits.

He laughed and said it was completely natural, especially in the beginning.

“It’s in our nature. When a werewolf finds his mate, and they’re both of age, the longest a male has been recorded to wait before going feral is two years.

“That’s if they don’t see each other every day. If they do, it’s much less.”

I nodded in understanding, but later, I found it odd that Patrick was staring at Max while he spoke.

It puzzled me for a few days, but I forgot about it when my uncle announced that he’d asked Max to accompany us on our summer trip.

Howie and Leslie are back for good, having seen all they wanted of the world and even made some connections with foreign packs (just like Patrick’s parents did while they traveled indefinitely).

Max has the freedom to put everything on hold and join us for a bit.

Sarah and I took care of all the planning. The only thing Caleb insisted on was that he was absolutely going to share a room with his mate. That works out just fine for me because I’ve got a little scheme up my sleeve.

I’m not spilling the beans just yet. Where’s the fun in that?