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Quote by Daria T. Rowan

“My mate was blocking his feelings from me. All of them. All the time. Why? Why didn’t he want to share that part of himself with me? I didn’t even know how he did that. Meanwhile, he could probably feel everything I was feeling and thinking. I was mortified. And I felt naked and vulnerable. It was unfair. Nothing about this whole mess was fair. But like Nana always said, fair is a place where they judge pigs.”

Quote by Daria T. Rowan

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Her Second-Hand Mate

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Daria T. Rowan

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“Females now want to like their mate, as well as love him. And whereas the idea of not liking your mate or being unhappy with him is by no means a new concept, it is the first time that females have the freedom to voice it. The old school attitude is that it doesn’t matter how your mate treats you, the bond overrides it all and takes precedence over everything. I know many packs still think like that,” she said, and she seemed hurt by it. “I don’t think that’s true. It’s possible to want your mate, even to love your mate because the bond is forcing you to, but still not to like him.” It felt like the room was spinning. What she was saying was akin to heresy in the eyes of my family. I was scared to think about whether I liked my mate.”

“Why does anyone stay in an unhappy relationship? Because people do. They do it all the time. And the truth is, when you’re in it, when you’re up to your neck in the everyday part of life with another human being, sometimes you don’t exactly notice how bad things really are. It’s not always as apparent as it would seem. Unhappiness, when it involves another person, can be like that line from The Sun Also Rises about going bankrupt, how it happens two ways: gradually, and then suddenly.”

“I smiled. Then I felt his hand in my hair again. He was running his fingers through it, gently at first, but it soon turned into a nape and scalp massage that made me shiver. His touch and proximity were electric, and the tingles I got from our contact were felt everywhere. Everywhere. He was soon poised above me, his gorgeous eyes searching my face for something before he claimed my lips again. It was even better this time, maybe because of how our bodies were positioned. I arched into him, wanting to feel as much of him as I could, as I tangled my fingers into his too-long hair and devoured his mouth greedily. Suddenly, nothing mattered more to me in this world than feeling as much of his weight on me as possible. I was floating despite being weighed down. I kept moaning shamelessly into his mouth and I could feel how much he loved it. I guessed that was how the marking worked. I could truly feel his enjoyment in my bones, and it spurred me on more than anything.”

“From the age of 15,” Dominic finally said, “we write monthly letters to our mate, which we give them upon meeting them. This helps them learn about us, but it also lets them know we’ve been thinking of them before we knew them.” I felt a pang of hurt at the thought that someone else had already gotten letters that were supposed to be mine. Dominic absentmindedly rubbed his chest...”

“Being in heat was sweet, torturous bliss. It meant four days of feeling all the nerve endings that lived under your skin. It meant burning up, but wanting to burn even more. It meant feeling your heartbeat between your legs. It meant feeling restless every moment of the day unless your mate was inside you. I was still me, but without any of the normal restrictions I put on my thoughts and words. I freely reached for my mate for the first time ever, and I did so often.”