She believed him. Both statements. The declaration should’ve annoyed her more than it did. It should’ve scared her more than it did. Instead, she kept seeing the moment he hadn’t attacked Isaac when Isaac had been down. He’d had the opening, and he’d let it pass. She couldn’t ignore the honor in him. “I wish you could become the Alpha without killing the other three contenders.”
“As do I.” His gaze flicked away and then returned. He looked tired in a way that didn’t match his size. The poison might still be flowing through his body, but he did look better than he had earlier.
She smoothed the duvet cover without thinking, her fingers tracing the raised snowflake pattern. Little wolves marched along the edge in a neat line. Bussy had given it to her a couple weeks ago, and Nadia had felt accepted by the elders in the pack. That had been a nice moment. She looked at Caidrik. “Please promise that if you do become Alpha, you’ll change these laws.”
“Of course I’ll change these laws.” He frowned. “Not that it’ll be important. When I become the Alpha, I plan to have plenty of kids to take on the role when necessary.”
“That’s what Philip thought,” she shot back.
Caidrik’s mouth tugged, not quite in a smile but close enough to make him even more handsome, if that were possible. “Fair enough.”
Nadia studied him, taking in the pallor that still clung around his eyes and the stiffness in his shoulders that he was trying to hide. “Are you sure you’re feeling better?”
“Yes. I tried to track the others through the woodlands around us, but everybody ran far and wide to heal.”
It probably was smart. None of them were in top shape. The thought of them scattered in the trees, sick and hunted and trying to recover, made her stomach tighten again. “Except for Luca,” she said quietly.
Caidrik’s expression turned flat. “Yeah. Except for Luca.”
Nadia’s irritation ignited, quick and sharp. If someone had to die, why couldn’t it have been Bulwark? She chose to ignore the fact that they all, except the winner, were supposed to perish. “I’m sorry, but your brother is a total dick.”
“That is an accurate description.” Caidrik sounded almost amused by how cleanly she’d labeled it. “He wasn’t happy growing up. We were mercenaries. We moved with different packs.”
“Because you were kicked out of this one,” Nadia said, watching his face, “or your family was.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t dodge the truth. “My grandfather was kicked out for stealing from the mines, from what I understand. I come from a long line of thieves.”
Nadia huffed a short laugh before she could stop herself. “I come from a long line of farmers. Well, on my mother’s side.” She shook her head once. “Anyway. You know about this side.”
“Yeah.” His gaze stayed on hers. “I think it’s brave you stepped up and tried to help this pack when you’ve only known everybody a couple months.”
His approval hit her in a way she didn’t want to admit. The acceptance warmed her face. “You should go. I do want to follow the rules.”
“Rules.” Caidrik’s voice sharpened. “Who gives a fuck about rules?”
Before she could answer, he reached for her and lifted her off the bed in one smooth motion. His strength was nearly back. She landed on his lap with a startled breath, hands bracing against his shoulders. His skin was cold through his shirt, and his hair smelled of night air and snow.
“Hey,” she said, squirming. “You’re cold.”
“Warm me up, then,” he said, and then he kissed her.
Chapter 6
Caidrik shouldn’t have kissed her.
He knew it the instant his mouth touched hers, knew it even as instinct overrode sense. The room faded to heat and breath and the feel of her body settling against his. He’d spent most of his life acting first and dealing with consequences later, and this felt dangerously familiar.
He knew that even as he did it, even as her mouth softened under his and her hands tightened on his shoulders. The cold was still in him, deep in his bones, snow and wind scraped raw, but she was warm and solid and right there. For a second, that was enough.
For weeks, months really, he’d protected her. Watched over her. Watched her.
Sometimes from across a room. Sometimes from the edges of the pack, staying quiet, staying back. He’d told himself it was duty. He’d told himself it was caution. He hadn’t lied exactly, but it hadn’t been the whole truth, either.
In a crappy world where wolves fought for dominance in dishonorable ways, she was sweet. Kind. A beacon of possibilities with a cute ass and a sassy smile. He’d wanted her from the first day he’d seen her.
Wanted her in ways that had nothing to do with contests or laws. Wanted her laughing. Wanted her safe. Wanted her touching him the way she was right now, soft and sweet, uncertain but not pulling away.
Now she could be his. Should be.
