"Icannot believe you think this will work," I growl at Grayson, who smiles beside me. It's unnatural. "Why are you smiling? Do you enjoy torturing your mate?"
We both freeze, and he turns to me, his smile growing wider. I can't believe I just said that.
"I mean—" I try to backtrack, but he shakes his head back and forth.
"You said it, no take-backs."
"What are you, twelve?"
He can't sayno take-backsin that deep voice of his. It's just not right. It's not fair to the rest of us.
"You called yourself my mate."
I cross my arms and look back at the training course he made for me. Like a fucking psychotic drill sargent, he even has a timer on a rope around his neck and a fucking whistle.
"It was a slip," I argue half-heartedly. "It's not like I forgot you accused me of working with the witches and said I might not be your mate."
He at least winces, but doesn't back down. "I have a responsibility—"
"Yeah, yeah, shove your responsibility up your ass. You told me we were fucking blessed. No take-backs."
He huffs a laugh. Then takes a step closer, invading my personal space. As if his scent isn't too much already. Reluctantly, I force myself to meet his gaze. I raise one eyebrow but keep my arms crossed.
"I'm sorry, Mona. I need you to know, it's not that I didn't trust you. But when I realized how many… mysteries surround you, I panicked. And I'm not in a position to—I'm not the type to panic. I have a lot of wolves I have to keep safe. It was never about not trusting you. I was just worried the witches may have spelled you somehow—"
"Yeah, I got that," I snap. I thought I'd gotten all the hurt out of me, so I'm surprised to find how much it still stings.
Listen to him. He's apologizing, Beep pleads.
I thought you said he was supposed to grovel at my feet?
She perks up at that, and it makes me laugh. Grayson narrows his eyes, and I see the moment it dawns on him that I'm talking to Beep. Again, all I give him is an eyebrow raise.
"You're talking to her now?"
I nod, challenging him.
"What's it like?"
"What do you mean?" I ask.
He turns to look back over the course he designed for me. It's set against the field behind the enforcer's gym. A few acres back, it hits the forest line, and through the trees, continues. He told me the course will bring me all the way to his cabin—our cabin, was what he actually said—to the bluff overlooking the back of the house. And once I get home, I can rest. But not before then.
In the distance, behind Grayson, I see another shifter, much further back than all the others. A woman. Tall, blonde. Glaring.
I thought Andrea was still in the kitchen. But before I can ask why she's here if she's not an enforcer anymore, Grayson pulls back my attention.
"I just can't imagine it. Is it overwhelming? Is it constant, or just at certain times, that she speaks?"
He actually seems curious instead of suspicious. So, I try to answer as best I can.
"I named her Beep because it sounded like an annoying beep in my head."
Grayson's eyes widen in surprise, then he laughs. I feel Beep snarl inside me, and it makes me chuckle too. "She wasn't too happy about it," I admit. "But she kept leaving all my clothes, money and food behind. It took us a while to find our groove. But we've figured out how to coexist. And no, it's not constant. Not the conversation, anyway. But I always feel her there." I tap my temple with one finger.
"That's how it is with all shifters. Their presence is constant. Comforting. Or it should be," he adds pointedly.
I nod in agreement. Satisfied—at least for now—he turns, gesturing to the training course. "Your longest holds were when you were in danger, but you couldn't shift quickly, so you often didn't. But youcanhalf-shift when attacked."
