“I’ll try to do better, Alpha.” I bat my eyes at him, which makes his scowl deepen by a factor of ten. “Could you please not tell Misery and Lowe?”
“Oh, you’re hiding shit from them, too?”
“I’m an equal opportunity liar. And really, it would just give them one more thing to worry about, when Ana should be their- “
“Priority, yeah. You’ve mentioned her.” My craning neck weeps in gratitude when Koen takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. His posture is lazy, but his eyes stay sharp. “Under Were custom, I cannot keep this from Lowe. He’s your Alpha.”
“Is he, though? I didn’t, like, go to the DMV to sign paperwork- “
“To the what, now?”
“- and I didn’t take a blood oath. You said it yourself, that I have no pack- “
“You are not an official member of any pack. You are, however, affiliated with the Southwest. The alternative is for Were society to deal with you as a rogue Were, and you do not want that.”
“I don’t understand, why does it matter- “
“Correct. You don’t understand. Were packs are not chummy extended families, killer. To safely set foot in a pack’s territory, you’ll need to be affiliated with that pack or with their allies.”
“And if I’m not?”
He gives me a flat look that- Okay. Got that loud and clear. “Can I change? If I were affiliated with the Northwest, then it would be okay for Lowe not to know, right?”
“That would make me your Alpha.”
“Would you mind that?”
He stares like I’m trying to sell him a pouch of magic beans. “To be clear, I know that I’m being played. I’m just allowing it because I love the idea of telling you what to do that much.”
I cannot help my smile. “Very well. Deal. Now that I’m officially a Northwesterner- “
“Not a name we go by.”
“- in the name of Alpha-member confidentiality- “
“Which doesn’t exist.”
“- I ask you to please not tell Misery that I’m . . . I don’t know, regressing to my Human self? She already has plenty to be nervous about.” I chew on my lower lip for a moment. “Will you take me in, then? It’ll ease the pressure off the Southwest. And . . . I feel safer when I’m with you.”
His tongue prods at the inside of his cheek. “You do?”
I nod, wondering why it’s the truth. I’m sure Lowe and his seconds are just as capable. They may even have more of an incentive to protect me, since . . . well. Lowe has never felt the need to remind me that the part of him that matters could never be interested in me. “Yeah. I do.”
“Well, that’s too bad. Because I don’t want you to feel safe.”
“You . . . don’t?”
Glaring, he leans toward me, full of something vicious that I cannot name. “I want you to be scared shitless, Serena. I want you so fucking terrified of me, you won’t even dream of not doing what I say. I want you to feel like your soft little throat is in my hands, and I want you to be so afraid that I’ll tear into it that when I tell you to do something for your own fucking safety, you won’t consider saying anything but ‘Yes, Alpha.’??@@
The last words are hissed just inches from my face, the puff of his breath hot against my cheek, and the thing is- he is terrifying. He could carve me open like an overripe pomegranate. And he’s definitely capable of forcing me to do whatever he wants. I’ve seen the way even his seconds look at him, love and trust and respect mixed with circumspection. I’ve heard Lowe and Misery whisper their worries. I am aware that there is an edge of unpredictability to Koen.
And yet the only response I can muster to his threats is a small, apologetic smile.
He didn’t ask for me to be his mate. I didn’t ask to be a hybrid. And yet here we both are.
I cannot help myself. I lift my hand, and with the backs of my fingers I stroke the skin of his cheek. It’s the lightest touch, barely anything. But it sends currents trembling down my arm, clamoring for more.
Koen’s muscles tense, and he flinches from my touch. With a roll of his eyes, he unfolds away from me, and cold seeps back into my bones.
“You’re such a fucking nuisance,” he murmurs, almost softly.
“I know.” I press my lips together. “Thank you again for- “
“Serena.”
“I know, but I have to say it, and- “
“Just mulch Saul’s rose beds, and we can be even.” He spins on his heel. Is he leaving?
“Are you going to bed?” I ask after him.
“After I’m done.” He doesn’t specify with what.
“Where will you be sleeping?”
“There are half a dozen beds in this cabin.”
What a nonanswer. And on top of thank you, he must also not be big into good night, because he opens the door and-
“Koen?”
He stops. Turns to me with an expression that’s equally patient, insulting, and dismissive. The quintessential
Alpha has shit to do look.
“Just . . .” I swallow. “The mate thing.”
His face doesn’t move a millimeter. His biological predestination to want sex with me seems to interest him less than the favorite yogurt flavor of the fifteen- to- twenty-one demographic.
“The rest of your pack, do they know?”
He shrugs, one shouldered. Truly, he does not give a shit about the stuff I spend my nights overthinking. “Everyone does.”
“You didn’t . . . It’s not a secret?”
“We made sure every Were knew, Serena.”
“Oh. Why?”
“No sane Were will touch you if they think you’re important to me.”
If they think.
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