“Some of them,” I say shortly. I don’t really feel like explaining that 2/3s of the people I knew are probably long dead.
She wrinkles her nose, her mouth twisting as if she’s tasted something sour. “Why did you tell them we’re ‘mates’?” Her fingers curl into air quotes around the word, her shoulders drawing up tight beneath her cloak.
“Because they would have killed you,” I say shortly.
She cocks her hip. “They would have tried.”
I shake my head. She still doesn’t understand.
Aurelia believes she’s invincible because she’s the most talented at magic in probably all of Vernallis and she’s spent months training to use a sword. Against most enemies, she’s probably right, but not against an entire wolf pack. She’s never seen wolves fight—not for real. She doesn’t understand how much I’m holding back, constantly, so as not to lose control and hurt anyone—especially her. I hope she never has to find out how wrong she is.
“It doesn’t matter now,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Why?” she asks bluntly, her eyes widening.
“Because mate bonds are uncommon for shifters. If you’re mine, they can’t touch you. It’s one of our most important laws.”
I’m downplaying the truth. Mate bonds are more than uncommon, they’re almost impossible for shifters. Like Kai said, there hasn’t been another bonded pair in decades. They think we’re a miracle.
Aurelia blinks, seeming slightly dazed. “Is a mate like a soul-bond?”
“It’s the same thing.” I run a hand through my hair. “Wolves believe bonds are fated, not forged like the Fae believe, but the mechanics are mostly the same.”
“So you want us to pretend to be soul-bonded—mated—whatever you call it here?”
“No, I want to get the fuck out of here and go back to Vernallis,” I growl.
“Then go,” she snaps. “I never asked you to be here.”
I run both hands through my hair now, growing more agitated by the second. I turn away from her, pacing back and forth across the small tent. I need to run or something. Fight. Anything but this.
“You don’t fucking understand. When it comes to wolves, you don’t know anything.” I close my eyes. I have never wished so much that she could speak in her head as the wolves do. It’s so much harder to explain anything like this. It’s too slow, and I can never think of the right words out loud as I can in my head. “Now, more than ever, I can’t leave you. They will kill you.”
“Why not tell Kai the truth, then? He seems reasonable, and you’re friends, right?”
I shake my head vigorously and the wolf inside me growls restlessly. I can’t risk that. Maybe Kai would let us leave, but maybe not. I could beat him easily in a one-to-one fight, but not if the entire camp backed him up. Part of me thinks that Kai only wants us here because we’re supposedly mates, so he might take the news that I lied worse than he would otherwise.
My thoughts are racing so fast for a moment I forget that Aurelia can’t hear them. I can’t figure out how to put what I’m thinking into words, so I just say: “No. We can’t tell Kai the truth.”
“But…” she looks uncomfortable.
“Just say it,” I say flatly. Whatever she’s thinking can’t be any more awkward than any of the other conversations we’ve had recently.
“You want us to pretend to be bonded, but you must have seen how bonds act. Daemon and Alix and Kas and Dessa…they’re…” she trails off pointedly.
I wince. She’s right, bonded pairs are always together, usually touching, and aggressively possessive. I really shouldn’t like the idea of being forced to be that way with Aurelia as much as I do. It would be for the purpose of safety, of course, which might make it justifiable somehow…maybe. There is another way I can think of, but it’s not much better.
“We wouldn’t have to do that,” I growl.
She looks relieved. “Are wolves not as affectionate with their bonds?”
“Mates,” I correct automatically. “And no, wolves are far more possessive than Fae.”
She barks a laugh. “I find that hard to believe. Fae males are notoriously insufferable.”
“Wolves are worse.” I run a hand roughly through my hair. I was wrong, this is somehow more uncomfortable than our conversation the other night. “We usually, er, mark our partners so everyone knows to stay away. If you were marked, no one would ask why we’re not…more affectionate. They’ll assume I just don’t want anyone else to see you, um, like that.”
She looks as uncomfortable as I feel, but makes a valiant effort to keep her tone neutral. “Where would the mark be? And how would you do it.”
