“Then you might want to know that being... intimate—” he tensed for a moment, took a small breath, “—is what triggers the bond. Fully.”
“Oh.” Well, there went that route. “Wait. Is that why you brought me out here tonight? To... consummate the bond?”
He almost laughed. Almost. “Of course not. I brought you here because I wanted you here, with me, on a full moon. We could spend the whole night with me in wolf form and you just sitting here, and it would be more than I’ve ever dreamed.” His arms tightened slightly around her. “You and me? That will always,always, be your call.”
Chapter 7
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed—not that long, she guessed—but true to his words, he’d just kept her there, in his arms, his eyes on the moon that was now taking up a big chunk of the sky, all white and a little smug. Maybe it knew something she didn’t.
Everything had mellowed, though, which is why she felt the shift clearly.
Subtle, thin enough that she would question herself—if it wasn’t him, and if this awareness of him that ran under her skin wasn’t stronger than usual tonight. His breathing had been steady, his arms around her, his chin occasionally dropping to her hair. But somewhere in the last few heartbeats, the steadiness had become effortful, like a spring that had started to wind itself too tight.
She didn’t say anything. She wouldn’t know what. She watched the tree line instead, and felt the moon above them like a hand pressed flat against the top of her head. She’d neverfeltthe moon before.
“There is one more thing,” he said. “Should you accept the bond. If the bond reallyisthere.”
Oh, goody. More things to consider when all she wanted to do was... not consider things. She shifted off his lap to sit beside him, because her brain worked better when she wasn’t directly against his chest. Marginally. “What is it?”
“There is a group in the pack. They are looking for a reason to challenge me.”
“And me, being human, would give them as much?”
His nod was curt.
She did not like that. But she, once again, did not know enough to react. Which would probably be another freak out, but she didn’t know enough for that either. “What—what does a challenge entail?”
“A fight. Man, wolf, doesn’t matter. Only the last one standing.”
Her eyes must have bugged out, and she was possibly skirting a nervous breakdown, not a simple freak-out. She heard herself laugh, a short, slightly unhinged sound that the clearing swallowed whole. “Like, a fight to the death?” She shook her head. Snorted. “I’m sorry, that was a dumb question. Of course it’s not to the death. What are we, savages? It’s like any other fight. Win goes to the one who stands. But the one not standing is not dead. There are laws about killing people, and last I checked, it was a big no-no, so of course it’s not to the death.” She stopped. Looked at him. The moon was high enough now to put his face in silver and shadow. “You’re not saying anything. Why are you not saying anything, Rex?”
He scratched his stubbled cheek. The sound of it was very loud. “Pack law overrules Federal and State law on this point. But we hadn’t had a fight to the death in a long while.”
She could only stare at him.
He cleared his throat. “It doesn’t have to be. But whoever loses has to yield. Submit. And sometimes, the one who loses won’t. If the subject doesn’t, then it may become a threat to the pack, so..."
“Why doesn’t he just leave?” She paused. “And I’m assuming only men can be Alpha because of some reason that escapes me right now?”
“No, not only men. And it’s because...” He exhaled through his nose, slow and very deliberate. A man rationing himself. “Because it’s how the pack works. A wolf strong enough to fight,to defend the title or take it, has to submit to the order in the event of loss. The pack can’t function if one individual refuses submission.”
She nodded. Alright. One more freak-out for her, then, because the thought of him hurt—or worse, in a worse way she was not going to name—set on her heart like a bag full of rocks. It was just a no.
Absolutely not.
She didn’t realize she was shaking her head until he reached over and took her chin in his fingers to stop her. His touch was warm and careful, which made no sense with everything he’d just said. “A challenge doesn’t worry me.”
She wasn’t sure what to think or what to feel. It was all so incredibly, cosmically insane. It drowned all her thoughts, all her carefully maintained logic. The clearing was very quiet and very still, or maybe her brain was, and above them, the moon was there. Just freaking floating.
“What worries me,” he said, quieter now, “is that they know how a challenge will end if they come at me first and only. So they might see you as an easier way in.” His jaw was tight. “Hurt you to even their chances, then challenge me.” He paused. Something moved through him, barely visible. “When a wolf’s mate is hurt, we don’t share the pain. But the distress of it—” He stopped.
“I’d be a weakness,” she whispered.
The word and its truth dropped between them in the moonlight, and neither of them could pick it up. He looked at her and said nothing, nothing at all. His eyes were very dark, and she wished he’d just argue with her, tell her she was not, tell her... He couldn’t. They both knew it for the truth it was, and he wasn’t going to insult her by denying it. She hated him for that. She loved him for that. He reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb, so gently it broke her heart.
“Don’t,” he whispered. “Please don’t be sad about this.”
“Sad?” She swiped at her wet face with her sleeve. “You need to sniff me out better because I’m not sad. I’m mad.”
