‘Are you OK?’ I said, lips already chafed and sore. ‘Do you need to rest? Is this OK?’
‘You’reaskingme?’ He held my face in his hands, light dancing in his eyes. ‘Yes, I’m OK, I’m more than OK, and ifit’s fine by you, I can’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing right now.’
‘I don’t know, Leopold’s has a couple of new flavours you haven’t tried yet,’ I told him, curling my fingers through his thick, wavy hair. ‘There’s a chocolate raspberry swirl that’s to die for.’
‘Only one thing I’d die for,’ he replied. ‘She’s standing right in front of me.’
He held me in his gaze and I let him guide me backwards across the room, only stopping when the backs of my legs met my bed. I stumbled onto the mattress, safe in his arms, a rush of desire shooting through me as my shoulders met my pillows. When I pulled him to me, green vines rose up from the floorboards to entwine themselves around the posts of my bed, deep red roses coming into full bloom as my hands travelled down his body, tracing out the new pronounced muscles in his shoulders, his back. He met my touch in kind, exploring me tenderly and everywhere he touched sang, as though I too was discovering that part of my body for the very first time. One hand on my waist, one in my hair, his lips on my collarbone, the flutter of his eyelashes against my jaw. It felt like he was colouring me in, bringing a black-and-white outline to life.
Every part of me craved more. My breath became ragged and my lips bruised, however close he was, it just wasn’t close enough. I hooked a leg around the back of his, holding him in place and as his hand just barely grazed the side of my breast on its way back down to my hip, I melted into the mattress. It was maddening and terrifying, too close and not close enough, too much and not enough. But Wyn didn’t force me to make the impossible decision of when to say when. He broke away before I knew I needed to, holding his head above mine, our lips so close I could still feel them, his face a blur of golden skin and green-grey eyes.
‘You missed me, huh?’ He placed one last careful and considered kiss on my swollen lips before rolling over to the other side of the bed. I straightened my shirt, pretending not to notice as he adjusted his jeans and rolled carefully onto his front.
‘Almost as much as you missed me.’
My voice was light and teasing but when I reached for the glass of water on my bedside table, my hands were shaking. He stretched out an arm to trace the petals of a rose, then plucked the flower and handed it to me.
‘Look at you,’ he said with wonder. ‘You are incredible.’
We’d spoken every day until he left for the phase, but I still wanted to hear about every detail of every second of every day we’d been apart, no matter how mundane. What he ate, what he wore, how he’d slept, the silliest, most random thoughts that had crossed his mind. And then there were the things we hadn’t discussed, darker, deeper matters that weren’t meant for phone calls. I wanted it all.
‘Tell me everything I missed,’ he said, reading my mind and mirroring it back. ‘Any new magic stuff? You read anything good? Lydia still in love with that girl who works at Blicks?’
The way he threw my magic in with Lydia’s ever-changing crushes and my insatiable reading habits made me smile. He accepted me in a way no one else could. Wyn understood.
‘Yes, yes and no, she’s moved on to the new ticket-taker at the Lucas theatre but they’re already spoken for so she’s sworn off love forever. Or at least this week.’
‘And still no sign of Catherine?’
I sniffed the rose, its sweet sparkling fragrance filling the room.
‘No sign,’ I replied, impatient to get to my turn. ‘What about you? How was your phase? And the gathering, what was it you called it? Thecrynhoad? Were there other new wolves? Did they ask about your brother?’
Mentioning Cole was a mistake and I knew it at once.
‘All you need to know is, I’m back in one piece.’
‘That’s it?’ I said as Wyn’s blissful expression clouded over. ‘Your first pack phase and that’s all I’m going to get?’
He moved away, the delicious weight of his body gone, leaving me unanchored. While I watched, he shuffled backwards until his head hit my pillows, then he lay gazing upwards at the canopy over our heads. It was filled with roses, occasional petals fluttering down to frame his exquisite face.
‘You know I trust you completely,’ he began, legs crossed at the ankle, one foot tapping insistently against the other. ‘If I could, I would answer every question you have, tell you every last little thing, but with the wolves … Em, they’re not my secrets to share.’
‘I understand,’ I said right away. Too quickly. I did understand but I wasn’t satisfied. We’d said no secrets. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Please don’t apologize, I’m glad you asked, Iwantto tell you,’ he insisted. ‘There’s still so much about it I don’t completely understand myself, and I know talking to you would help, but truthfully, I already shared more than I should. Just telling you the name of thecrynhoadcould be enough to get me in trouble. Our words, our rituals, they’re sacred to the Weres and definitely—’
He stopped himself just in time but I knew what he was going to say.
‘Definitely not meant to be shared with witches,’ I said.
Wyn ducked his head, looking ashamed of the accuracy of my assessment as I sat in my own discomfort. There was so much we didn’t know about each other, not only me and Wyn, but the wolves and the witches, and because of those mysteries, there would probably always be secrets between us. I didn’t like it.
‘It wasn’t anything like I imagined,’ he said after a longmoment, deciding what he could and couldn’t share in real time. I could feel the conflict in him as he worked it through in his mind. ‘I didn’t realize how big the pack would be. There were people from all over the south, Mississippi, Tennessee, Kentucky, some folks over from Florida. I wasn’t expecting for there to be so many families. So many Weres. And yes,’ he added, some of the anguish draining away and replaced by something closer to joy. ‘There were other new wolves.’
‘Sounds like you made some new friends,’ I replied lightly. ‘Probably not that keen on witches.’
It was petty but I couldn’t stop myself.
