She crossed her arms, and a smile played at her lips. It was mischievous. Dangerous. It made my wolf want to tackle her and lick it off her mouth.
“Fine. You can stay.”
My heart lurched. My wolf howled in triumph. “Truly?”
“On one condition.” She held up a finger. “Actually, two conditions. First, this is purely platonic. I’m giving you a place to sleep and food and clothes because apparently you’ll just lurk outside if I don’t. But that’s it. No mate bond. No claiming. No...” She waved her hand vaguely. “Whatever else wolves do.”
My wolf whined. I ignored it. “And the second condition?”
“You work. I’m not running a charity here. You want shelter and food? You help me with the bookstore. I need someone who can lift heavy things, reorganize shelves, maybe scare off entitled customers.” Her smile turned sharp. “Think you can handle that?”
Work. She wanted me to work. Physical labor in her place of business.
I was a king. I had not done manual labor since before I claimed my throne. My days were filled with strategy meetings, politicalnegotiations, training my warriors. I commanded others to do the physical work. That was what servants were for.
But this? This was different. This was my mate asking me to prove myself. To show her I could provide and protect and be useful.
My wolf was practically vibrating with eagerness. I loved it.
“Yes.” The word came out too quickly. Too eager. I did not care. “Yes. Whatever you need. I will do it.”
This was perfect. Better than perfect. I would have access to her dwelling. Would be near her constantly. Would have every opportunity to show her what an excellent mate I could be. How capable. How strong. How worthy of her.
I would woo her properly. Show her that the bond was not a curse but a gift. And when she finally accepted it - accepted me - I would claim her so thoroughly she would never doubt again.
“Okay then.” She was still smiling, but there was wariness in her eyes. Good. She should be wary. I was a predator, and she was prey I had every intention of catching. “We have a deal. You work, you stay. You try anything weird, you’re out.”
“I will not try anything weird,” I lied.
Everything I planned to do was probably considered weird by human standards. But I would be careful. Patient. I would wait until she came to me willingly.
Even if it killed me.
“Good.” She moved toward a door on the far side of the room. “Wait here. I’ll get you some clothes. You can’t walk around in a blanket forever.”
She disappeared through the door. I heard her rummaging through things, muttering to herself. I stayed on the couch, resisting the urge to follow or crowd her space.
My wolf was not happy about the platonic condition. Was even less happy about the no claiming rule. But it was a start. She was allowing me to stay, to be close.
The rest would come in time.
She returned with an armful of fabric. Garments, I realized. Human clothing. She held them out to me, and I took them.
The scent hit me immediately. Male. Old but distinct. My wolf snarled, and I felt my eyes flash red before I could stop it.
“These are male garments.” My voice came out rougher than intended. “Who do they belong to?”
“My grandfather.” She said it gently, watching my reaction. “He died six months ago. These were his. I was going to donate them, but...” She shrugged. “I think he’d be happy knowing they went to someone who needed them.”
Dead family. Not a rival male. The snarl died in my throat, replaced by shame. “I... forgive me. I did not mean to...”
“It’s okay. The possessive growling thing is probably a wolf trait, right?”
“Yes.” I looked down at the clothes in my hands. They were well-made. Worn but cared for. A gift from her family, even if that family was gone. “Thank you. This is a generous gift.”
“Don’t get mushy on me.” But her voice was soft. “They’re just clothes.”
They were more than clothes. They were trust. Acceptance. A place in her world, even if it was small.
