"You talk to your wolf," he says flatly.
"You don't?" I ask, taking the brown paper bag Doc hands over. Orion guides me to one of the couches with his warm palm on the small of my back. I sink down beside him, my thigh pressing against his much larger one.
Orion's chocolate hazelnut scent wraps around me, bright blue eyes locking with mine. He smiles mischievously, and I have an urge to run my fingers through his short beard and tug—it's just long enough to look rugged without hiding that jawline.
I wonder how it would feel dragging against my skin. The rough texture between my thighs. The image makes my omega pulse with heat, but it's not just arousal—I can feel the desire pulling from my heart, deep in my chest. I suck in my bottom lip, lost in the image of Orion's mouth claiming me, his head between my legs, powerful hands gripping my knees to hold me open.
Like he can read my thoughts, he tilts his head toward mine, nostrils flaring slightly, and the corner of his mouth lifts in a knowing half-smile.
I clear my throat. He chuckles before nuzzling the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder. A gesture he's never done before, so it catches me by surprise, and I shiver when his lips graze the soft skin just below my ear. It's comforting, so wonderful, I just lean into him.
"You smell so good, Mona," he whispers, lips brushing my neck, my ear.
"It's the pie," I say dumbly, squeezing the forgotten paper bag in my lap.
He hums. "It sure is."
Heat floods my cheeks, and I tear my eyes away, only to find Grayson glaring at us. Doc is slightly amused, the tips of his ears turning pink.
Whoops.
Grayson's jaw tightens before he responds, "To answer your question, yes, I communicate with my wolf. I give him directives. Orders. We do not have conversations—my wolf does nottalk back." His hands curl into fists, knuckles whitening before he stretches his fingers out again, like he's trying to get himself under control.
"Then, how do you know what your wolf wants?" I ask through a mouthful of flaky blackberry pie. I catch falling crumbs with the bag, licking the juice off my fingers. Hand pies are great. And Hilde is the absolute tits.
Suddenly Grayson's face is inches from mine. I freeze mid-chew.
"Sorry, what?" I mumble.
He growls, flashing his teeth before stepping back again. "I said, I have a connection with my wolf. I can feel his needs. Hedoesn't tell me what he wants because I can feel it. That's how all shifters operate. That is how a normal wolf behaves."
Orion and Doc pipe in to defend me, but I cut them off. "Normal?You're really showing your age there, old man."
"It is not normal to have a conversation with your wolf! She cannot talk back to you. So either you're misunderstanding or misrepresenting your relationship with her, or there is something seriously wrong."
"Now, I wouldn't say wrong per se—" Doc holds a hand up, but Grayson cuts him off.
"Oh, come on now, Doc. Don't back down now. Yesterday you said, and I quote,there might be something seriously wrong with her wolf if they're having conversations with each other."
The blackberry pie turns to ash in my mouth. "Doc?" My voice cracks. I wipe my sticky fingers on my pants, suddenly feeling stupid and silly.
"Mona, I didn't want to alarm you yesterday, but it is quite unusual. And it does have me worried."
He asked me a million questions yesterday, but didn't make it sound like there was somethingseriously wrongwith me. He hugged me goodbye as if everything was fine.
And here I am, eating this delicious pie, like a little kid. The sticky juice is still on my fingers and I want to wash my hands and not feel so pathetic in front of all these impressive wolves.
"You said not to worry," I grimace.
"Yes, well…"
"But you told them to worry?" I ask, pointing at Grayson. The betrayal cuts deep. Doc has the decency to look ashamed, but the damage is done. He turns to me, voice gentle, like he's talking to a child. "Mona, dear, I'm sorry. I did say that. But I've had time to think about it since then, and I think it may be tied in with why your wolf was suppressed. I have some theories. I need to get in touch with Kendrick, perhaps we've seen this before."
"Great," Grayson cuts in. "You get in touch with Kendrick and find out why my mate is such an aberration. Meanwhile, I'll see if she won't start giving me some answers as to where she's been all this time. Why she came here. Who sent her."
"Grayson. Shut the fuck up." Orion's words slice through the tension, low and lethal.
"Maybe Andrea was right. We need to start asking questions." Grayson's eyes bare into mine, determination hardening his features.
