I could tell her. Should tell her. That she’s my mate, that I want to provide for her, protect her, claim her completely.
But something stops me. Fear, maybe. Or the knowledge that once I say it out loud, everything changes.
“Just take it,” I say instead. “It’ll make me happy.”
She studies me for a long moment, and I wait for her to speak. “If I don’t take it, you’ll just find another way of getting me to acceptit, won’t you?”
I take a sip of my coffee, hiding my satisfaction. “You’re finally learning.”
She shakes her head and carefully places the jewelry boxes back in the bag, handling them like they might explode.
“I’m starving,” she announces.
“Well, let’s get you fed.”
I take her to a small Italian restaurant a few blocks away. It’s the kind of place with checkered tablecloths and candles in wine bottles, intimate and warm.
Violet orders pasta with an enthusiasm that makes me smile. I order the same, genuinely hungry now.
The food arrives steaming and fragrant. She takes her first bite and actually moans.
My wolf perks up, very interested in that sound.
“This is incredible,” she says around another mouthful. “How did you find this place?”
“Research.” I twirl pasta into my spoon. “I wanted to bring you somewhere you’d like.”
She pauses, her fork halfway to her mouth. An odd look flickers across her face. Uncertainty. Maybe even nervousness. Her cheeks flush slightly, and she looks down at her plate.
“You researched restaurants for me?”
“I researched everything.” I gesture vaguely. “The dress shop, the shoe store, the spa, the jewelry boutique. All recommended for their quality.”
“You planned this whole day.” Her voice is quieter now, and she won’t quite meet my eyes.
“I wanted it to be”—I stop myself before I say perfect—“I wanted it to be worth your time.”
She’s still blushing, still looking unnerved. She eats another forkful of pasta, and I do the same, both of us preferring not to say any more.
It’s not uncomfortable, exactly. But there’s an awareness now, thick and tangible. Like we both know something has shifted today, but neither of us wants to acknowledge it.
We eat mostly in silence. I watch her finish her pasta, see the wayshe savors each bite. She catches me staring once, and her blush deepens, but she doesn’t call me out on it.
When the check comes, I pay without comment. She doesn’t argue this time.
The drive back to her apartment is quiet except for the soft music from the radio. The sun has set completely now, streetlights casting everything in amber and shadow.
I pull up to her building and kill the engine.
“Tomorrow,” I say, “I’ll pick you up at five in the morning.”
“Five?” She groans. “That’s so early.”
“The flight leaves at seven. I want to give us plenty of time.” I turn to look at her. She nods and gets out to gather her shopping bags from the back. There are so many of them that I decide to help her carry them inside.
Her apartment is filled with the scent that drives my wolf crazy. I set the bags down by her couch and turn to leave.
“Darius.” Her voice stops me at the door.
