“I thought about it a lot.”
“Thought about what?”
“You and her,” he whispers. “Fucking.”
***
It's impossible. I can't not look at her. I'm trying not to, but it's like she went from being a vague specter in the outskirts of my awareness to being under a spotlight. I'd like to say that I've been around her enough times that she's a more solid figure in my mind, which is true. I went years only knowing the feel of her from what I heard about her or from the pull when she would go into heat; now I have a very detailed visual reference and I can't stop thinking about it. It's like the image of her standing in the forest wearing nothing but her skin and a scowl is burned on the inside of my eyelids. I can't get away from it.
I want her. I wanted her before, but only when she was in heat or I was in rut; and that wasn't truly wantingher. It was mostly wanting what she was, which was mine. It was natural to want her because of the pull. But now? Goddess, now? Now I have something real to want. And I can't have it. She's sitting over there on the bench right now, ignoring the shit out of me, and all I can think about is how soft her skin looked in the moonlight, the curve of her hip, the strength of her thighs, and yes, herfucking tits. Then watching her ass peek out from under Parker's shirt when she walked away.
Fuck. I liked that way too much.
And I can't do anything about it.
It's going to be so much harder during her next heat, and my next rut is going to be hell.
Ohhhh.
Oh no.
It's been months since either heat or rut. That... I won't go into rut until the fall, but I don't know exactly when she might go into heat again. She absolutely cannot go into heat here. There will be nothing stopping me if we're this close, and if another male takes a run at her it would end very badly.
I'm on my feet and closing the distance before common sense can catch up with me. I stop right in front of her and stare down at her in wide-eyed horror.
She blinks up at me, more irritated than curious.
“When is your next heat due?” I ask, but it sounds more like an order.
“Stop,” she says, lifting a hand to ward off the question. “Stop talking. Don't ask me about my heat.”
“When is it, Eugenia?” I urge, glancing around quickly to make sure no one is close enough to hear what we're talking about.
“Don't call me Eugenia,” she says, opening her eyes to glare at me.
“It's your name. Please, just tell me. I lost track.”
Her brows scrunch together and a little line wrinkles across her nose. “Don't keep track of my heats. Go away.”
“Genie,” I say through clenched teeth. “You cannotgo into heat here.”
Her glare turns icy. “Don't worry about my heat,Cross. It's none of your business.”
I drop to one knee in front of her and she pushes away from me as far as the bench will allow. “Genie,” I try again, almost pleading. “I know I have no right to know anything about you, especially your heat, but you are unmated and my wolf wants you. If you go into heat while we are here, I will come for you and I will tear through anyone who tries to stop me. It's been hard enough to keep him from you when the only thing between us was the distance. Please, just tell me that you aren't due anytime soon.”
Her mouth drops open and it takes her a moment to recover from my blunt honesty. When she finally draws herself together to respond, her eyes have lost some of their cold dismissal. “My heat isn't due until next month. If I am still here, and that's a huge if, I will leave until it's over or I'll take suppressants.”
A growl slips out before I can stop it and she raises a brow.
“Please use suppressants.” Much like when I asked her earlier, it's supposed to be a request, but it comes out like an order.
“Why?” she says, both brows arched high.
I close my eyes and pull in a breath before I give her another piece of truth that I'd rather keep to myself. “BecausehereI will be close enough to kill any male who comes to... aid you.” I look into her eyes, holding her gaze to make her understand how serious I am. “I will, Genie. Any male who comes near you. Any male who smells like you. Any male who I smell on you.”
“You're ridiculous.”
“Please. Use. Suppressants.” I grit out, emphasizing each word.
