The word hung between us.
“To deal with someone who doesn’t understand pack dynamics,” I quickly said, hoping she’d believe the correction. “This marriage is strategic. It strengthens the borders and creates an alliance between wolves and witches. That’s all it needs to be.”
Victoria nodded, her expression thoughtful. “So you want me to avoid interfering with pack business and keep my distance.”
“Yes.”
“That seems reasonable.”
Too reasonable for someone who’d agreed to marry a stranger a short time ago and got carried up a hundred and four steps against her will.
I watched her carefully. The wheels were turning behind those intelligent eyes, and I suspected she was planning something, working through variables and possibilities.
My wolf perked up, interested despite my resistance.Strong mate. Clever mate. Good for pack.
“Stop it,” I huffed.
“Stop what?” Victoria took a step closer, and a smirk played at the corner of her mouth. “I’m simply agreeing to your very sensible ground rules.”
My body responded to her proximity, my damn cock moving in my pants. Heat flared through my chest, my pulse kicked up, and every instinct I possessed zeroed in on the woman standing only a short distance away.
She was testing my boundaries and limits, and probably cataloging my reactions for later analysis.
Her smirk widened a fraction.
My wolf wanted me to kiss it off her face. Wanted me to crowd her against the wall and find out if she’d keep thatconfident expression or if it would shift into something heated and wanting.
I clenched my jaw so hard it ached.
She stood her ground, watching me with her sharp eyes, completely unafraid. Her wedding dress fit her perfectly, showing the curve of her waist and the set of her shoulders. This woman was strong, though I sensed her strength came from her mind rather than physical power.
Our pups would be strong. The thought drifted up from my wolf. Smart like her, protective like him.
I shoved the image away, but not before my brain helpfully supplied a picture of Victoria pregnant, her hand on her rounded belly, with that same confident expression on her face.
“Is there something wrong?” she asked.
“No.”
“You’re growling again.”
I forced myself to stop, to breathe through the frustration of wanting something I couldn’t have.
The sickness was spreading. Four more pack members had lost their ability to shift this month. I spent every spare moment researching, consulting with healers, and tracking down ancient texts that might hold answers. I couldn’t afford distractions or to give in to the mate bond pulling at my chest.
Even if she smelled like magic and flowers and pure, undiluted temptation.
Even if her mind worked faster than most wolves could run.
Even if the bond hummed with approval every time I looked at her.
“I need to be clear about something,” I said. “This marriage solves a political problem. I don’t have time for distractions.”
Her eyebrow arched. “Why am I a distraction?”
“Because you’re intelligent.”
Her snort rang out, though she covered her mouth with her hand.
