Koen is staring, too.
I clear my throat. Cross my arms over my chest. “What just happened?”
“Not much.” His voice is rough edged. He swallows. It takes him a bit of time and a lot of effort to lift his eyes to mine. “Sometimes, when the block is mental, it can help. Being guided.”
“You mean, being commanded by an Alpha? It didn’t work, though. What does that say?”
“That there are other reasons at play.” He wets his lips. Takes a step back and then inhales deeply. Like the air around me is toxic, and he needs a break. “It was worth a try.”
“Why do I look like I just spent twelve hours in labor?”
“Because your body was trying to shift. Which is a strenuous and energy-intensive activity.”
“I didn’t, though.”
“Your cells still worked for it.”
I push back my damp, lanky hair. “Maybe I won’t be able to do it again. Shifting, I mean.” Even if Dr. Henshaw said that people with CSD usually can shift almost till the end. How fun, to be the exception to the rule.
“Then you won’t.” He shrugs. The ropes of muscles in his shoulders seem to say,
I couldn’t care less. “As long as I know what I’m working with, I can keep you alive.”
I nod. My head is starting to pound. “I just want you to know, I really am grateful about the fact that- “
“Serena,” he grunts. “What did we agree on?”
My mind is blank for a moment. “Oh, right. No gratitude. My bad. Wait- can I say ‘my bad’?” I produce my most angelic smile. “Are apologies okay?”
He sighs. “Just go to bed, killer. You’re going to have a long and unpleasant day tomorrow.”
“Am I?”
“Yup. It’s hybrid parade time.”
“Please, tell me it’s not what it sounds like.”
He folds his arms. “It’s exactly it. You want to lure the Vampyres to you, we’ll have to make sure they see you with me. Which means that I’ll have to show you off a little.”
“How, though? There are no Vampyres walking around the Den.”
“They gather information in other ways. Vampyres and Humans fly drones over our territory all the time.”
“And you let them?”
“Yup. It’s how we manipulate them into thinking that they know more than they do. It’s highly offensive, how inept they think we are, but since it’s to our advantage, I’ll give it a pass.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “They probably already suspect you’re with me. We just want to give them proof.”
“Why would they suspect it?”
His stare is level. “Because with me is where I would keep my mate.”
I lower my eyes. He’s right. So right, I change the topic. “About the necklace . . .”
“I told you.” His voice hardens. “It’s probably just some ten-year-old trying to impress his friends with some dumb prank.”
“Still- “
“Still, I’ll investigate the package and the note and then return it to you.”
“Are you . . . Do you think there’s any way that my mother could really . . . ?”
A knock at the door stops me. Jorma peeks inside. He nods politely at me, then says, “I have been calling you, Alpha.”
“Must have missed it.”
“Actually, you hung up on me. Twice. As soon as I mentioned the paperwork for the killed Vampyre.”
A deep, irritated growl rises. From Koen’s chest, I believe.
“I can help,” I offer. “I kinda like paperwork.”
“Go to bed, Serena.”
“But- “
“Now.”
He glares at me like there’s little he wants more than having me out of his sight- a less than auspicious start to our cohabitation. I sigh, wave goodbye to Jorma, and stalk off like I really am an unruly toddler.
MY NIGHT IS DELIGHTFULLY DULL, IN THAT IT INVOLVES LOTS OF sleeping and no puking. True to his word, Koen skulks outside the cabin in wolf form. My eyes catch his through the window when I sneak into his room to steal more pillows.
And his duvet.
They keep me warm. Smell good. Are soft. With a few additions, my bed feels like sinking into a hug, and I have no regrets.
When I get up in the morning, he’s already awake. I spot him sitting on the porch, bare chested, like he just shifted back to human form and only pulled up a pair of sweats to spare my delicate sensibilities. Since I’m not allowed to verbally express gratitude, I decide to repay his hospitality by scrounging around his cupboards to make coffee. When I bring him a mug, I realize that he’s not alone.
“Oh.” I blink at the wolf curled on the porch, right at Koen’s feet. “Hi.” His scent tells me that he’s male, fully grown. Healthy. I wonder if I should introduce myself and . . . I don’t know, hold out my hand to shake his paw. Then, upon a closer look, I notice his size, the shaggy gray fur, the bushy, hanging tail, and it dawns on me. “Hang on. You’re not a Were. You’re just a . . . wolf.”
Koen huffs a gravelly morning laugh. “Not even.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s half dog.”
“Wait, really? Can I . . .” But yes. I can. The wolf dog eyes me, eager to make my acquaintance. I set the mug aside and let him sniff my hand first, then butt against it. My fingers comb through his thick fur, and the loll of his tongue as I scratch around his ears feels like pure joy.
“You are so handsome.” I laugh when his tongue slobbers against my cheek. Let him do it again. “Yes. I’m a hybrid, too. Let’s be best friends. Who are you?”
“He hangs out around these parts,” Koen says, amused. “From time to time.”
“What’s his name?”
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