Page 12 of Titan’s Mate

Oh, hell. Now Titan was picturing her in her underwear. He tried to make the image go away, because it was already making his dick tighten.

Mari leaned towards Brock and whispered loudly, “Now the bear is wondering what kind of underwear I have on.”

Brock gave a snort of laughter. “So am I.”

Mari blinked at him, her dimples deepening as she held back a smile. “My safe word is ‘bamboo.’”

Titan growled before he could stop himself.

Brock turned around and looked at him. “What?”

“You’re a healer,” Titan said. “You’re not supposed to flirt with her and make sexual comments. Isn’t that against some kind of ethics code?”

Brock shrugged. He was looking way too amused. “I’ve been hanging around the McCall twins too long. They’re a bad influence.”

Mari said wickedly to Brock, “Do you think the bear will agree to cross me over if I show him my nice underwear, when I’m wearing it? That could be on the table. Although he might have to cross me over and show me his underwear. Because I’m not cheap. Or easy.”

“He doesn’t wear underwear,” Brock said.

Mari turned to Titan, eyebrows raised, and looked him slowly up and down. “Really,” she murmured.

Just that look made his insides go molten. Fuck.

“Bamboo,” Titan said. “Stop, already. Both of you.”

Brock just grinned and turned back to Mari. Her eyes were sparkling mischievously, but her body language was tense.

She was more nervous about this than she wanted to let on.

Brock put one hand on either side of her head and said softly, “Close your eyes.”

Mari did what Brock told her. And then he… walked into her head. It was an odd sensation—a bit like feeling the presence of her animal inside her, but more alien.

She hoped he’d believed her about being careful.

It seemed that he had. He moved gently inside her mind—much more gently than she would have expected of a six-foot-three hard-bodied man with a very fierce wolf inside him.

But there was something unexpectedly comforting about Brock’s presence—something that made her trust him instinctively. He cared about people. She could feel it. Sometimes he cared too much.

He seemed to feel the presence of the cursed tumor inside her, because he made his way straight to it. It really was like a piece of rotten fruit, dark and squishy and full of toxic energy. It was only bound by a thin membrane of magic, like the skin of a grape that was slowly breaking down, letting bits of the ugly, icky demony stuff inside leak out.

Thus, the screaming nightmare visions.

She really, really hoped Brock didn’t mess up and pop it and kill both of them.

But he didn’t. He examined it ever so carefully, barely touching it with his mind. Then he did… something… and a little stream of white light surrounded it, strengthening the grape skin and making it just a bit stronger.

A headache she’d barely realized she had eased, and she felt the tense muscles of her neck relax.

Brock slowly began to withdraw. Her animal, attracted by the kindness and caring of Brock’s energy, had been drawn out, and watched him as he passed. Brock stopped, smiling. After a moment he reached out for Mari’s bear, running a mental hand over her head and down her neck.

Her bear relaxed, blinking at him.

And then Brock was outside her head again, leaving only a vague feeling of well-being behind.

Mari opened her eyes and looked into his. “Are you sure you’re a wolf?” she asked him. “Your mind feels like xióngmāo.”

He shook his head. “I’ve never met one before. Is that what you call yourselves?”