I’m a fucking idiot.
My good mood fades rapidly.
Morgan reaches up and tentatively strokes the base of his throat. “You didn’t bite me.”
My gaze drops to his fingers, the wolf in me rising to the surface as I imagine it’s my mark he’s feeling. My voice is gravel rough when I speak. “Did you want me to?”
Silence.
Our eyes meet as he draws in a shaky breath. His gaze never wavers as he whispers, “Honestly? I have no fucking idea.”
My traitorous shifter heart skips a beat, because that wasn’t a no.
But it doesn’t matter.
“We can’t,” I grit out, and the words are like knives in my chest. “Even if we both wanted it.” I ache to reach out and touch him again, but resolutely keep my hands to myself this time.
“Why?”
“I told you why.” I take a step back, needing to put some space between us so I can think. He smells like me, likeus, and with that scent filling my lungs, I can’t think of a single reason why I can’t just sink my teeth into him and keep him.
I scoop his clothes off the ground and hand them to him. “Put these on, we need to get back.”
He takes them with a sigh. “So that’s it? You drop this huge fucking bomb on me, make me come, and then expect me to forget all about it and act like none of it ever happened?” His eyes narrow. “Don’t you want me as your mate? Am I not good enough? Too human?—”
“Yes,” I snarl, backing him against the tree. “You’rehuman. And too fucking breakable for this life.” He opens his mouth, but I’m not done. “You almost died once, Morgan, because you smelt like me. If we were mated...” I screw my eyes shut, blocking out the images of him covered in blood and smelling like death. “It would be a hundred times worse. You’d be an easy target for anyone wanting to mess with me, the club, or my pack.”
He flinches, and I know my words hit their mark, but he’s still got that stubborn set to his chin. “You could change me,” he whispers, going for nonchalance, but there’s no hiding the waver in his voice. The uncertainty.
I scoff. “Yeah, right. Like you weren’t fucking terrified when I told you about the blood transfusion.”
“That was before.”
I step close enough to cup his jaw and force him to look me in the eye. “Is this really the life you want, Morgan?” My touch is gentle, but I keep my tone harsh, because I need him to seethis isn’t some fucking fairy tale. “You want to cut ties with your friends, your family? Because there are rules we have to stick to. Telling them what you are risks putting them in danger, too.”
I don’t give him chance to answer. “You’ve seen firsthand what we’re capable of.”
“I’ve seen what theFeral Beastsare capable of,” he counters.
I laugh, but it’s devoid of humour. “You think we haven’t done the same? Or worse?”
He opens his mouth and closes it again.
“We’re a motorcycle club and a shifter pack. We have enemies and wefight.”
“But you heal,” he whispers.
My mind flashes to images of Bale, broken and bloody. “Not always,” I say softly. “Some things even shifter healing can’t fix.” I back away from him, but he catches my hand.
“So that’s it?” he repeats, desperation creeping in. “I don’t get a fucking say?”
I shake my head, and he curls his lip. He looks so much like one of us in that moment, it’s a cruel form of torture.
“Then why do this?” He gestures between us. “What was the fucking point if you have no intention of following through?”
I sigh, because he’s right. I should never have touched him.
“Because I was tired of fighting it.” I take a step back and he lets me this time. “And that’s why you need to go. Why you need to leave here and disappear for a few weeks, maybe a month, even. Having you close drives me fuckinginsane. I can’t concentrate on everything I’ve got to do while I have this base need to keep you safe.” My gaze dips to his throat, at the red marks I left there. My jaw aches and my skin itches with the need to shift, to claim him, and a low growl bursts out of me as I back up even more. “But most of all,” I grind out, “I don’t trust myself not to do something we’ll both regret.”
