He rinsed her body with the same care he'd used to mark it, and said nothing, because there was nothing to say in this moment. He let the warm water and his gentle touch speak his feelings while the knowledge of the choice in front of him moved from his chest to settle in his gut.
He sat her before the vanity and lifted the blow dryer to work on her hair, and she told him, “I can do that. My arms and shoulders are mostly okay.”
“Don’t argue,” he told her, despite the fact the power exchange was over.
And she sat still while he dried her hair.
Before they went down, she dressed in leggings and a shirt. He put on jeans, and they made their way to the kitchen forbreakfast.
“I have my own recipe for sausage,” he told her. “Fennel, orange zest, a touch of Calabrian chili. A few other things. Interested?”
“Absolutely. Pork, I assume?”
“Of course, though I sometimes make it with venison.”
He sat her at the bar and didn’t let her help beyond toasting the thick slices of sourdough he cut from the loaf he’d bought from a local bakery. He fried the sausage and served it alongside soft scrambled eggs, and he set a jar of spiced honey beside her plate.
They ate at the table, conversation easy and warm, going from details of the hike, about why he’d chosen that specific motorcycle when he bought it, about her plans to try making collard greens as soon as she made it to the grocery store, to see if she could match the ones from the restaurant.
And then he watched her drive away with his feelings all over the fucking place.
The agreement had been Mondays, and they’d expanded into Tuesday morning.
But she wasn’t going to stretch it more. This was all he’d ever have of her, and it wasn’t enough. Wasn’t even close to enough.
She only knew part of him, and she needed to know the rest.
And he fucking needed more of her. His wolf fucking demanded it, and the man was in agreement.
He stepped away from the door and told himself it would have to be enough.
But he knew in his bones it wouldn’t.
He used his pin to unlock his phone, and called his grandfather.
“Grandson! It’s good to hear from you, but I sense you are troubled.”
Healwaysknew, so Knife got straight to it.
“I’ve met someone special, but…” He blew out a breath. “My club has rules against dating pack wolves. Against datinganyspecies with an alpha who can override their will.”
His grandfather didn’t say anything, so Knife continued. “We were supposed to be friends with benefits, but it’s grown into more. I need her to know who I am, grandfather. I love her, and she needs to understand who I am. That I’m not a mere wolf. Most of all, my wolf wants her to see him. He wants to run with her wolf.Needsit.”
His grandfather was quiet for a long moment, but Knife had said everything he intended to say. He’d give his grandfather the time he needed to respond.
Finally, his slow, deep voice returned the verdict.
“You know the rules, grandson. Only when there’s a tangible reason to believe she will be your lifelong mate can you share our secret with her.”
“I do know the rules,” Knife said, voice rough. “But she’s… she might be the one. And I don’t know what to do.”
“It sounds like you have a difficult decision to make. If you need to come home and do a vision quest, or go to sweat, we would all love to see you, though we’ll regret your pain.”
His grandfather had never told him what to do, but he always helped him figure it out, and he supposed he’d justdone so. If she’s the one, he has a decision to make, and only he can make it. No one else.
And he had the tools to help him make those decisions. Sweat lodge, or the more extreme trip to the mountains, solo, until Great Spirit showed him the path he couldn’t find.
And the reminder he has a home, with people who love him.
