“So, here’s the plan.” Arlo sticks his thumb in his mouth, sucking off some cream. My eyes lock on the way his cheeks hollow with a little moan of satisfaction. “We eat breakfast, get ready for the day, and then around noon, we’ll head into the city and meet my mates at the pub.”
The lust pooling low in my belly turns to ice.
Right. His mates.
A growl rumbles in my chest.
Ours,the berserker snarls.Our mate. No one else’s.
Gods, how in Hel’s name will I get through this meeting without bloodshed?
I lurch out of bed, making the tray tilt. Arlo balances it before our breakfast can spill all over the bed.
“Gunnar?”
When was he going to bloody tell me he had mates? And why does it bother me so much? I rejected him. Of course he ran off and found a mate or two or… or whatever comes after two. “Bath,” I say through gritted teeth before leaving the bedroom.
In the bathroom down the hall, I toss off my clothes and, after a bit of fumbling, get the water running. When Anders told me the future had hot water at the turn of a knob, I’d laughed in his face, but I’ve never appreciated being in the future more than when I step under the hot spray.
The tension bleeds from my muscles, washed away by the hot water. Alone and with nothing to distract me, all I can focus on is the ache in my chest that has no right to be there.
I’ve heard of some people having more than one mate. It’s not uncommon.
The gods already took one mate from me, and even now when I’ve finally found the one made for me and me alone, he isn’t mine to keep.
It’s just as well, isn’t it? Someone as free-spirited and cheerful as Arlo deserves better than a broken wolf on the cusp of insanity.
I’d rather have my arm bitten off by Fenrir himself than meet Arlo’s mates at this pub. My wolf keeps pushing against my restraints, even without my fur cloak, making my nails sharpen and fangs prick my inner lip. I made my choice to reject our bond, but my feral half is at odds with my decision. It will be hard for both of us to watch Arlo and these mates of his.
Shit. Will Arlo expect me to be a part of his… What’s that word Kieran used once? Molycule? I don’t share.
How will I get through this meal without savaging anyone who touches Arlo?
I must. Arlo isn’t mine. I made my choice.
I'm still unsure of myself by the time we arrive at the pub.
My wolf won’t settle, and I can think of only one way to appease him.
“Hold a moment, Lo.” I take his wrist.
“What is it—oh!” Arlo gasps when I pull him close and bury my face in his neck. A low growl rumbles through my chest as I rub my cheek against his neck.
“Are you… scenting me?” Arlo asks. He settles his hand on my shoulder but doesn’t push me away.
My wolf’s riding me too hard to reply in anything but a low rumble. I switch sides, brushing my cheek over the right side of his neck now. Arlo’s breath quickens, spicy notes of arousal deepening his scent.
Now he’ll smell like me, likemine.
When I pull back, I’m pleased to see that the skin on either side of his neck is flushed. The flush crawls up his throat and pools in his cheeks. A shiver runs down my spine, settling hot and heavy in my balls when his dark eyes find mine.
“W-what was that about?”
I clear my throat. “My wolf needs you to smell like me.”
“Oh? Why?”
So everyone in there knows he belongs to us,my wolf growls.
