She held his gaze, genuine care in her scent as she leaned toward him. Her gentle voice seemed to press his wolf heart, like a kind hand holding a place of pain. “How often?”
“Every few years, on average.”
“Oh, that rarely?” She frowned. “You were fighting it just now.”
“I was maintaining control. My point is, I can’t access it at will.”
“What would happen if you embraced it instead?”
From within his body came a thrashing heave, a feeling of being kicked from the inside of his stomach and chest. He jerked forward on the ottoman, then slowly straightened as he caught his breath. “Clearly not a wise idea.”
“You think you’d lose control?”
“Not worth the possibility.”
“If you’re squashing a vital part of yourself, isn’t that worse?”
“No,” he said.
April was silent, studying him. At last she nodded. “I see.”
Her scent proved the truth of her words. She did see, did understand. As if she knew him, could perceive the depth of his wolf heart, and was willing to make space for all of it. How could this woman show such compassion to him of all people while she saw all wolves as threatening? He blinked a few times against a strange pinching in his chest. His eyes were so dry now he could barely keep from rubbing them, but that would only hurt.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Of course. Now what’s in the bag?” She gave a small smile.
“Ah.” He stood, strength seeping back into him as it always did. His eyes would wait another few minutes. “Come with me.”
Seven
Asshefollowedhim,April’s pulse kicked up. They were headed for the sole bedroom. What was in that bag? He’d said she wouldn’t be expected to…but…the bedroom. Her knees locked halfway down the hall.
He turned back immediately, sensing or smelling her fear. “I won’t harm you, April.”
She wanted to believe him. Had believed him moments ago while he sat in the library and told her about a very private piece of himself, if the way he’d dismissed that other wolf was any indication. She had fallen straight into her soft old self as though she hadn’t shoved that self down out of the way a mere hour ago.
When she didn’t move, Malachi brought out the single item in the bag: a doorknob installation kit. “The current knob doesn’t lock. I thought you might feel safer with one that does.”
She stared past him at the door, then took a few steps closer. Its knob was smooth and round and, yes, unable to lock. Her throat closed around sudden insistent tears, but she swallowed hard. “You could charge straight through the door itself, if you wanted to.”
“Yes,” he said.
“But I guess…” Tears pushed closer to the surface. “I guess if you planned to do that, you wouldn’t waste money on a lock.”
He said nothing.
She looked up to find his gaze intent on her. “That awful fake blue, I can’t. I want to see your eyes.”
His eyebrows arched. “You do?”
“You’re not Malachi with those things in. It’s like I can’t see you at all.”
“I’ll go remove them.”
“Please. If you don’t mind.”
He set the knob kit against the doorjamb and disappeared into the master bathroom, and in his absence April reached out and gripped the smooth doorknob. He had bought a lock to make her feel safe. A lock that wouldn’t actually keep him out, so this was…a gesture.
