He might even need it.
“She might not know that it’s a thing,” Saul says after Koen almost snaps his spine in two during play-fight.
“She does know,” Koen mumbles.
“How can you be so- “
“I told her.”
“Did you tell her what a mating bite is?” Amanda asks, as obnoxiously shrewd as always. “Or did you tell her that you specifically want to bite her to finally seal the mating ritual, and that restraining yourself is driving you banana pants?”
Koen glares. “She was fucking Human until three hours ago. The decent thing to do is let her get used to being a Were before I mangle her with my meat-mincing jaws and leave a scar, for my own personal pleasure.”
“The former, huh?” Amanda smirks knowingly. “Did you explain to her the immense peace of mind the bite would give you?”
“How would that not be pressuring her?”
“The thing is,” Saul points out, “I understand wanting to give her space, but until you bite her you’ll be sullen and ill-tempered and crusty. I bet Serena’s not enjoying it very much, either.”
“Oh, come on, Saul. Be for fucking real,” Amanda scoffs. “Koen’s crusty with us, not with her.”
That’s correct. Because when he’s with Serena, he’s in a great fucking mood. When he’s with her, she’s his. And it doesn’t matter that he hasn’t bitten her yet, because her soft throat is just inches away, because she smells like she needs nothing else but him, because she has the unspeakable ability to turn him into a creature of patience and bliss and repose.
The problem . . . well, the problems mostly occur when she’s not around. Six weeks after all that shit with the Favored went down, for instance. When he’s in Human territory for a three-day work trip. The purpose is, ostensibly, to help the Humans figure out what to do with the bunch of not-yet-deprogrammed cult members the Northwest just turned in to the authorities. Koen is a hairbreadth away from asking Lowe and Maddie why the fuck he had to come all the way here only to get roped into business that no longer has anything to do with his goddamn pack.
Until his patience runs out, and he growls, “Why the fuck did I have to come all the way here only to get roped into business that no longer has anything to do with my goddamn pack? I don’t give a shit about Humans. Give them therapy, or send them to rot at the bottom of a ditch, or put them on an all-inclusive cruise ship- just don’t involve me.”
Maddie’s eyebrow arches. “I would have thought you’d want to see with your own eyes the people who tried to invade your territory brought to justice.”
Lowe snorts, and Koen shoots him a
Don’t you fucking dare glare.
Lowe, unfortunately, dares. “He’s mated now.”
“I’ve heard.” Maddie smiles. “I hope you and Serena are very happy.”
“At the moment I’m pretty fucking unhappy.” Because he’s here, and Serena is elsewhere. The months he spent away from her before were abominable, but Koen foolishly believed they’d taught him how to bear her absence. He’s starting to realize that might not be the case. He counts the hours and the minutes. He smells shadows of her scent in places she’s never set foot. He’s not a restless man. Why the hell can he not stop bouncing his leg, then?
It doesn’t help, that he doesn’t hear from her more often while he’s gone. He refuses to become the kind of person who sends little heart emoji texts every ten minutes, but by God, can’t
Serena shoulder the burden of being the needy one? Can’t she blow up his fucking phone?
“How does Koen’s recent mating relate to his lack of interest in Were-Human relations?” Maddie asks Lowe, as if Koen weren’t in the same room.
“Indirectly. He misses Serena. Can’t be bothered with stuff that’s not her for long.”
“Has this been a long trip for him, then?”
“Nope. Two days.”
“Two and three-quarters,” Koen mutters.
Maddie ignores him. “Is that why he checks his phone every two minutes?”
“Yes,” Lowe says, just as Koen grunts morosely, “I have a
Tetris addiction.”
“It’s complicated,” Lowe continues. “Being away from one’s mate. On many levels. And the fresher the mating, the more unpleasant the distance.” He looks like he knows from personal experience.
“Does it get better with time?” Maddie asks.
Lowe winces. “Not as far as I know.
Although . . .”
“Don’t you fucking dare say it,” Koen growls.
Once again, Lowe dares. “There are things he could do that would make it more bearable.”
“And he isn’t doing them because . . . ?”
“Your guess is as good as mi- “
Koen chucks his phone at Lowe and is proud of how squarely he hits his mouth.
So- yeah. Fine. He’ll need to bite Serena. Then there’ll be a tangible sign of the mating, this whole business will be complete, and the instinctual, feral part of him will be soothed. He’ll feel less like his world could explode for lack of her, less like absconding with her and tucking her in the trunk of a tree and keeping her as his precious, beautiful secret. He will bite her- the alternative is inconceivable- but first he’ll give her time. Space. A chance to settle.
Just be fucking patient, he snarls at himself.
You’re not the center of the fucking world. She is.
But it feels like torture when he returns to her after three days (and three hours and twenty minutes) away. Serena’s with Twinkles, waiting for Koen on the cabin’s porch, but sprints toward him before he even slows down the car. He’s terrified he’ll run her over, so he parks right in the middle of the driveway, gets out of the vehicle, and lets her softening body slam against his when she throws herself into his arms.
She stretches up for a kiss, two, a million, but she’s too little and maybe too eager and clearly hasn’t planned this out, so he has to pick her up and slide his hands down to squeeze her thighs as she wraps her legs around him.
“Can you,” she says between kisses, “never”- kiss- “leave again?” Kiss. “Like, ever?” Kiss.
The only response he can manage is a groan. He breathes her in, nose buried into the gland at the base of her neck. Yeah, of course he’ll never leave again. He’ll do her one better: they’ll stay in his cabin forever. Brick up all entrances. Sounds like a pretty fucking good deal.
He’d love to be a gentleman for once- carry her inside, give her the snacks he brought back from Human territory for her, ask how her week at work went, tell her that he missed her and- God, the banality of it sounds outrageously enticing. Problem is, it doesn’t go like that. Koen can rarely stay on task when it comes to Serena, which is his fault, his weakness, yeah, sure, but it doesn’t help that her scent is phenomenal, or that she no longer smells as intensely his as when he left. Not to mention, he apparently does require sex in quantities and frequencies that are . . . humbling. And he won’t be able to let go of her until he’s certain that she’s unharmed and whole, because that’s the bottom line: he doesn’t really trust the world to treat her right if he’s not around. She’s simply too beautiful.
Koen wishes he could help himself, but that’s not the case. She’s pliable in his arms, and the couch is enticingly horizontal, and at least he manages to kick the door shut behind him before laying her down and pulling at her shirt so hard that- “Fuck”- the neckline tears. He should be sorry, but now he has full access to her tits, and maybe the universe is a good, just place after all.
“I think,” he pants against her ear, ragged, “you should just start coming on these trips with me.” His hands are trembling. He wants her too much.
“I missed you,” she says instead of yes, licking the gland under his jaw, and he doesn’t bother telling her that he missed her back, because it feels so fucking redundant when he’s trying to inhale her.
“Serena,” he mouths against her temple. It really is terrible mate behavior, fucking his partner before even saying hello, but she’s squirming underneath him, and the friction is unfuckingbelievable, and he can’t control himself. Maybe she can’t, either, and that is when it happens.
The most life-changing event he’ll ever experience.
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