The moon goddess knows best. That was what everybody always said. That she had picked a perfect mate for every werewolf before they were even born.

It wasn't like Lucian had anything against Rachel. She was a smart, ambitious woman with big dreams and the stubbornness to make them true. Pretty average-looking, but she definitely had the style to outshine the shallow "dream girls" every guy was supposed to want to bang. Although he wouldn't have minded if she wore a little shorter skirts every once in a while.

Nothing about her was the reason he didn't want her as his mate. The real reason was Michael.

They had met in their first year of college, in the macho culture easy for werewolves. The aggressive sports satisfied the ancient urge to run and hunt that was not so easy to fulfill in the urban landscape, and the natural hierarchy all young men fell into suited them perfectly.

They weren't gay. Not really. Not like those models and fashion designers that "came out" in public. They had a great bromance and just...added another thing on top of it. Mainly, having sex together. And if Lucian knew anything at all about girls, they did not like their mates having sex with other people.

A football hit his helmeted head with enough force to snap him out of his musings.

"Earth to Captain Oblivious," Michael laughed as he retrieved the ball. "We have a match in three days, no time to be daydreaming about girls."

"Ah, sorry." Lucian removed his helmet. Suddenly it felt like it was suffocating him. "I just...I really don't want to marry her. You know?"

Michael shrugged, the very picture of not caring about the whole matter at all. "She's your perfect match. It's meant to be."

He knew that. But he didn't want it. "What about us? Weren't we meant to be?"

His friend also removed his helmet. "Bro, don't get sappy on me. We can still hang out and all that. Just...no sex. And I guess you'll be spending a lot more time with her. Nothing's really going to change."

Michael's scent was different. More aggressive. Now that he looked carefully, his jaw was clenched tightly too. Despite his carefree words, he clearly was not as okay with it as he pretended to be.

But he didn't know how to approach the topic. Male werewolves didn't get...emotional. "Right." He put his helmet back on. "But she's going to have to wait at least until the season is over. Pass me that ball. We're going to win this year!"

Michael grinned widely. "You bet! We'll show those pups how the game is played!"

It was their last year in the college together. At the very least, they should make the best of it.