Nodding slowly, even though his words hit me square in the chest, I got out of bed and crossed the room to my jacket, which was hanging off the back of the dining room chair. My gun holster was below it. I unclipped it and pulled the weapon free. Already, even after only a few days away from it, it felt colder in my hand. Heavier, somehow. Almost unfamiliar, even though I had owned it for a decade.
For a few days, being around Reed—practically glued at the hip—had made me forget who I was. I was different with him. A lighter, happier person, even given the monster lurking in the woods and the objectively bizarre nature of our circumstances.
“I trust you, too,” I told him at last, coming back to the bed. I set the gun down on the nightstand. “Mostly.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Just mostly?”
I climbed back into the bed and rolled over to face him. “Well, you seem pretty hell-bent on putting what youthinkaremy needs first. No matter how I feel about it. I’m not sure I can trust you not to do that again.”
He let out a long breath, looking stricken. “Yeah, I deserve that. You’re right. I guess you bring that out in me.”
“And what’s that?”
“The need to protect you. To keep you safe.” He paused, dropping his eyes. “But I’m not exactly good at taking care of other people—first being alpha, and then realizing I had a mate. It’s a learning process.”
“Me too,” I replied, softening immediately. Yeah, the inability to stay properly angry with him was going to end up beingreallyinconvenient, wasn’t it? “Look, for the record, you bring that out in me, too.”
He brightened. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Just—next time, talk to me. I want to be here for you, too. If things come up, we’ll figure it out together, right? But it starts with letting me in. That’s what real trust looks like.”
He nodded, avoiding my gaze. “Yeah. You’re right.”
I hated how dejected he looked. My words had landed and I immediately wanted to take them back, even though I was right. “We’re good, okay? On my end, at least.”
“Me too,” he said, even though I wasn’t sure I believed him.
“Turn off the light. Let’s get some sleep.”
He did as I asked, plunging the cabin into darkness. Then he rolled over onto his side and when I tentatively put my arm around him, he slid in closer to me. The sensation of his warm, bare skin against mine was bliss.
“Harris?” Reed asked several minutes later, his voice thick with sleep.
“Yeah?”
“I want to let you in. But it’s new for me. Having someone notice or care what’s going on with me. I’m not used to it.”
His words affected me. I wasn’t sure if it was anger at the people around him for not noticing how special he was—as infuriating as he could sometimes be—or an urge to protect him, to make it so he had never needed to feel that way in the first place.
“You’d better get used to it,” I told him, my voice coming out thick, even though it was just a whisper in the darkness. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
Reed didn’t reply, but he relaxed in my arms, as if my words had driven away some lingering resistance. Before long, his breathing deepened and became more regular.
I lay awake for a long time, with Reed safe and sheltered in my arms, before finally drifting off. And when we dreamed, we dreamed together.
* * *
“Are you sure about this?” I asked the following morning as we approached Emma’s cabin, feeling more anxious than I could remember being in a long time. And given that I had been under the control of a murderous vampire for the better part of a year, that was saying something.
Reed stood next to me, ridiculously handsome in a green-and-white button-up flannel, a pair of dark jeans, and a brown jacket with matching shoes. His dark hair, still damp from the shower, was curling slightly as it dried.
He gave me an encouraging smile. “I want you to meet everyone. We get together every Sunday morning, just to hang out and have a meal together.” Then he paused. “Emma made a full spread for breakfast, like she always does. Including pancakes. The pack will be in a good mood.”
“Great. But we haven’t really talked about what happened the last time I was around your pack.”
He raised his eyebrows at that but then held up one finger to his lips and shook his head very slightly, then pointed at the door. His meaning was clear: the pack could probably hear us, even through several inches of solid wood.
Wonderful.
