I've wanted to work with a wolf partner for as long as I can remember. This is my third — and final — chance of being chosen by one.
You know what they say. Be careful what you wish for.
I had no idea wolves could be as broken as my new partner is. He has an intense phobia of dogs, his attitude reeks, he barely knows how to take care of himself, and doesn't care about much of anything — except having lots of sex.
That's the best thing about our partnership, the sex. But sometimes I wonder if it's worth it. I don't know how to fix this. He's difficult, annoying, handsome as hell...and I don't want to give him up.
My dream come true is starting to feel like a nightmare. But the one he's living turns out to be far worse.
A shifters and partners novel
Heat level: medium
They say the third time's the charm.
They're full of shit.
One time, you're rejected, fine, you move on. The next time? Well, you're still holding out. So that third time is going to hurt all the more.
I always figured, if you get past the third time, you're either too stubborn to ever give up (and will probably get what you want eventually from sheer cussedness) or you're just too stupid to give up and will get the heartbreak you probably deserve. No way to know which is true about yourself, probably.
But that seems pretty harsh when I'm the one looking down that barrel.
It was my third time. And it would be my last, if I couldn't snag a partner to bring back with me.
I didn't get it. On paper, I had the right qualifications. I'd sailed through the course the first time, and the second time it had been even easier. This time? I could've done the work in my sleep.
But so far, I hadn't caught the eye of a wolf who wanted to work with me.
I suppose I didn't stand out from the crowd. I was motivated, hard-working, well-trained, and fairly level-headed. I even played well with others, which was more than could be said for some of the applicants here. But everyone here seemed to be at least as qualified as I was.
Some indefinable quality of personality made others stand out enough to find a wolf partner. Apparently I had all the personality of a turnip or a rock. I'd always thought I had a decent personality. Maybe I was too quiet, and didn't tell many jokes, but I hadn't had to face just how utterly boring I was until now, when I was looking down the barrel of my third time charm.
The first two times, I'd done my best to spend time with every single wolf in the program, hoping I'd click with at least one of them. It hadn't happened. Or at least, I'd liked most of them well enough, but none of them had really liked me.
I was starting to wonder if the rumblings and rumors I'd previously dismissed were true, or could be. That many of the wolves who went through the program were secretly hoping to find a mate. A human they felt was worthy of them, to get married to and live happily ever after. If so, I foresaw even less hope for me this time.
I'd only barely been let back into the program a third time. It was my last try. I was already a laughingstock back at the precinct. Apparently I was Mr. Big Shot, who thinks he's going to swan off and find himself a wolf partner to shower glory on the precinct (and himself, because of course in this narrative I'm a selfish, vainglorious asshole), coming back to boos and sneers, a failure.
I was hoping that didn't happen. On paper, I had all the qualifications. I should be able to find a partner. But there were always more humans than wolves in the program, because it was important the shifters had plenty of choices and weren't pushed into anything.