I rubbed my hand over her shoulder. “Yes, I do. He’s a survivor.”
“He should be alpha of the pack,” Chloe stated.
“You don’t want the job?”
She chuckled against my chest, rubbing her nose on my skin. She had a habit of doing that at night before we went to sleep, as if she wanted to make sure that my scent was the only thing she smelled in her sleep. “Hell, no,” she replied. “I don’t have the temperament.”
Now that I knew her better, I was inclined to agree. Still, I was impressed that she understood that about herself. A lot of wolves, male or female, would assume that their fighting prowess meant that they would make excellent pack alphas. Often times, they were wrong.
“He should change the name of the pack,” she said idly. “I don’t think it will be led by MacArthurs ever again.”
“What about your children?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I doubt I’ll have any.”
“You never know when you’ll meet your mate,” I pointed out, ignoring the shaft that pierced my heart when I uttered the words. I shoved the feeling away. I cared about Chloe, but she wasn’t my mate. My mate was dead.
“I already have,” she whispered, her body going lax against me. “He doesn’t want me.”
Every muscle in my body tensed at her words. “What?” I asked.
She didn’t answer. She was already sleeping.
I lay awake until the sky was tinged with pink, unable to stop thinking about the mate that hadn’t wanted Chloe. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Any male would be lucky to take Chloe as a mate. I could have the she-wolf with me for the rest of my life and never regret it.
I cursed myself, because I knew if Chloe had a mate and he returned for her, she would leave me behind.
The smell ofcoffee and bacon woke me up the next morning. I sat up, throwing my legs over the side of the bed and rubbed my forehead with my hands. A glance at my phone showed that it was nearly noon.
Hoping a shower would clear the fuzziness from my head, I walked into the bathroom, emptied my bladder, and climbed into the tub.
“Fuck me!” I yelled when the water came out ice cold. The showerhead was low, the nozzle pointed at my chin rather than raining water over my head. I got a face full of frigid liquid.
I heard Chloe’s chuckle on the other side of the shower curtain, stepped out of the spray, and stuck my head outside to see her put a cup of coffee on the counter. “I see you’ve discovered the horrible plumbing.”
“Jesus Christ, you could have warned me,” I complained.
She grinned at me. “But where’s the fun in that?”
I gave her a look that promised retribution, which only made her smile widen.
“Will I be forgiven if I tell you I made breakfast?” she asked sweetly.
“Maybe,” I mumbled, ducking back into the shower and reaching for the shampoo. She must have gotten it out of my bag while I slept. I stared at the bottle in my hand, a testament to her thoughtfulness, and once again my mind wandered to the mate that refused her.
His loss would be my gain, I decided. At least for now.
I heard Chloe leave the bathroom as I washed my hair. When I finished my shower and dressed, I came out of the bedroom to find a huge mound of bacon and waffles waiting for me. There was even orange juice.
“Did you go shopping this morning?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No, I had all this in the freezer. I left some things here. I planned to come back for a week or two after this was all over. It’s not the best meal we’ll ever eat, but at least we won’t go hungry today.”
My stomach rumbled as I looked over the food. “Looks good to me. I’m so hungry I don’t really give a damn how it tastes.”
We sat down and ate, Chloe asking me what I wanted to eat for the next few days as she made a list. In the midst of chaos, the simple domestic task seemed blessedly normal.
“We’ll have to go shopping this afternoon. It’s probably a good idea to grab things that we’ll eat for the next few days. If we have to leave again, we can put what’s left in the freezer.”
