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“Is that a question?”

He shakes his head. “No. Biting is considered very sexual among wolves when it’s between lovers and mates.”

“What if their mate doesn’t want them to bite them?”

“Uh, well, it’s the only way to create the mate bond, so…”

I drain the rest of my cup, reaching for the wine jug again. “I don’t know what to do with this information, Hunter. I still don’t want a mate.”

His flush fades as he watches me pour another serving of wine. “If you’re serious about not wanting to mate with Conall, your best bet is to spend a little time with him. It will calm his instincts. If his wolf becomes accustomed to your presence and doesn’t feel like he will lose you, Conall might be able to control him enough not to bite you when you reject him. But it’s likely he won’t keep his sanity or his human form after.”

My heart sinks at his words. “He’ll spend the rest of his life as a wolf?”

“It would likely be a short life. Rejected wolves are dangerous and often begin to kill indiscriminately. Most have to be put down.”

“Put down as in… killed?”

He nods, his face somber.

By the goddess, things just kept getting worse.

I didn’t want any of this. Not the male. Not the knowledge that he would likely die if I rejected him. None of it. Yet somehow, it’s now my responsibility.

Godsdammit.

Chapter Seven

Conall

Pride fills me when my mate enjoys the lunch I made with enthusiasm. She eats like a she-wolf, devouring the food with vigor and small noises of pleasure.

My cock hardens when I imagine her making the same sounds when I bed her.

Even the presence of another male isn’t enough to distract me from my fascination with the petite witch. She’s nothing like I expected when I was young enough to yearn for a mate. Back then, I wanted a sweet, willing female who wouldn’t pester me for constant conversation.

Now, I fight the urge to drag her into my lap or follow her every time she moves more than a few steps away from me. I crave her presence, her scent.

Scarlett is so different from what I envisioned as a young Lycan. Not just different…so much better.

She is fierce and unafraid. She doesn’t back down from me, even when I know I’m being a pushy bastard. She has a kind heart. I saw it last night in the woods and again this morning when Hunter arrived and told me I couldn’t keep her trapped in my home.

She could have demanded I release her. She could have left immediately. Instead, she stayed.

She’s still here.

As we finish the midday meal, Scarlett gathers the dishes and insists on washing them. It pains me to let her handle the chore, but I stop arguing as soon as Hunter gives me a pointed look. Clearly, I don’t understand human females as well as he does. It’s obvious he knows my mate. She seems at ease with him. More comfortable than she is with me.

The knowledge should grate on me, but it doesn’t. Instead, I’m relieved I have someone to help me navigate this situation. Someone who makes my mate relax.

When Scarlett puts on her cloak and reaches for her things, my wolf whines in my head, making my ears ring. He doesn’t want her to leave either, and I don’t know if I have it in me to stop him. Both parts of me urge me to stop her. Or to follow her. But I promised I would let her leave. I cannot break a promise to my mate. I refuse. I want her to trust my word implicitly, to know that I will never lie to her.

Hunter sidles up to me and murmurs, “I’ll walk with her and distract her. I know you’ll have to follow, but this way she won’t notice you.”

Tension drains from my muscles. Somehow, the irritating human saw my internal struggle, and he’s making it easier for me to stop fighting my instincts. I look up at him, noticing for the first time that he has grown taller than me in the years since he left the pack. He’s visited me several times since I came here, but I never truly saw him until now.

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because you’re my friend.”