“Rogues are still the ones who kidnapped Aisha, who invaded my father’s house, who…”
Jasper trails off, his eyes drifting to the floor, but I know what he was going to say.
Who murdered my mother.
I soften. Tonight has already been too much without getting into a debate about whether or not rogues are good or bad or all the same even. I’m tired and, judging by the blank expression on Jasper’s face, so is he. All that schmoozing really takes it out of a wolf.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I get it. It’s not ideal, but I get it.” I slip my hand into Jasper’s and smile. “So, are you having a good birthday?”
He glances up, a smirk blooming in the corner of his lips. “It’s okay.” He steps closer, taking my other hand. “It could be better?” His lips hover less than an inch from mine.
“Oh yeah, what would make it better?”
“This.” He kisses me and all the noise in the world falls away. For a moment, as our lips connect and we can taste each other, it’s like there’s no one else here, my mind is clear. This is all that matters.
When we pull apart, Jasper holds my face, his thumbs soft on my cheeks. “I’m sorry tonight has been so hectic.”
“It’s not your fault. Like you said, this is a pack event. I just wish you were able to celebrate your birthday properly and…”
“What?”
“Well, it’s hard after being apart for so long. All I want is this.” I wrap my arms around him a little tighter. “But there’s so much small talk and noise, and politics. I keep thinking about Aisha and—”
“I know. I’m sorry that happened. I’ll speak to her tomorrow.”
We lean our foreheads together and his breath is a warm comfort on my lips.
“I just wish it could be us. Without all the rest.”
“Me too.”
We kiss again, a little more slowly this time, a little less playful, as if we’re trying to kiss away our problems.
“Is this a bad time?”
Jasper’s lips leave mine and I turn to find Melissa, a smug grin plastered on her otherwise welcoming face.
“Sorry,” she says. “I know you were having a moment. It’s just Mr. and Mrs. Fastolf wanted to wish you a happy birthday in person before they had to leave.”
I look to Jasper.
“Annette Fastolf is our foreign secretary and grand emissary in the north. She and Mr. Fastolf live in Rochester.”
“They need to get going if they’re going to get home before dawn,” Melissa finishes the thought. “Jasper?”
She gestures to the door but Jasper waits a beat, hesitant to leave me.
“Will you be okay?”
“Yes, go.”
I shove him gently and he takes my hand, holding on as long as he can until we’re standing with our arms outstretched, our fingers unable to keep their grip, and we break apart. He glances back one more time before slipping through the door and vanishing back into the party.
I can’t quite bear to go back in. Now that the cake has been served and night has settled in, onyx and endless over New York, the guests have gone inside for the most part. Only a couple of stragglers remain on the terrace and finally it feels quiet. The fuzz and the clouds have receded, and despite the dull throb that remains, I can stop focusing so much energy on keeping the noise at bay. I take a few deep breaths right down into the pit of my stomach.
Why does everything have to be so complicated? Maybe I should have expected this. After chasing Jasper for so long—so long I nearly gave up and turned back—I almost can’t believe how little thought I’ve given to what our future might hold. Someday, Jasper will be the alpha and I will be at his side, a figurehead, responsible for the pack, for our people. How am I supposed to lead when I can barely get through one night as Jasper’s officially recognized mate? Am I just not cut out for this life?
I never really wanted a boyfriend or a relationship until I met Jasper, and when I did I went all in. But there are so many strings, I’m like reverse-Pinocchio. Youcanhold me down.
