“Ithink it needs to be Kane. I can negotiate and Gael can fight, but they’re going to be with the centaurs’ leaders. They’ll respect his opinion far more than ours,” Reed said from his position by the window.
We’d all gathered in Kane’s room, since the women were just next door in Gael’s. We could hear their occasional laughter through the wall, and it was soothing to all of us to know they were safe and happy. Though personally, I had a hollow well in my chest that simple laughter couldn’t fill.
The only thing rattling around in there was the memory of Olivia begging me to back out. To humiliate not myself, but our pack, and leave this island empty-handed.
To leave our future daughter at risk.
She had so little faith in me. But could I blame her? What had I shown her so far to give her faith?
Not much.
I dragged a hand through my already tousled hair, then waved toward Reed. “I’m fine with that. If it’s a power play they want, we can give them one.”
He nodded, moving on to another minute detail of their planning that I wasn’t truly interested in. I had a fight to prepare for, both physically and mentally.
And I was not ready.
Not with her words haunting me like so many ghosts.
You shouldn’t do this at all. I’m not going to let you kill yourself.
My wolf was restless, but I needed his strength for whatever came later. I had no doubt I would need to shift, and we would need his pent-up frustration to handle the challenge before us.
I’d feel marginally better if I at least knew what the challenge was. But the centaurs had stayed true to their word, telling me nothing yet. Damn centaur pride.
“So there’s no documentation on centaur challenges in the past? Nothing we can go on?” I scanned the room, but each of the males shook his head. I was going in blind, and I hated that with every fiber of my being.
“I even asked Gracelyn to check the pack records,” Reed said with an annoyed flick of his fingers. “There was one vague reference to a challenge between a centaur and a lynx shifter. All that was recorded was that the lynx failed and was killed for his trouble.”
A lynx had a lot of disadvantages compared to a werewolf, depending on the challenge. Size and speed, for one. Jaw size. But not all challenges were about brute force, and the lynx’s failing could actually have been a point against me. The challenge could have been more suited to a feline, not less.
It was impossible to say.
A knock on the door interrupted our conversation. Gael was closest, so he strode over to answer it. But within a second of it opening, the scent of fresh peaches and soft cotton rolled over me like a physical caress, and I knew it was Olivia. The second of bliss-knowing she’d come for me, which made my wolf arrogantly preen in my chest-was quickly replaced by tension. Was this a last-ditch plea to get me to call it off? Again?
I didn’t know if I had the strength to push her away a second time, but I couldn’t focus on all the ways this night could go wrong if I wanted any chance of winning this piece for our pack.
“Luce,” Gael called, gesturing to my diminutive mate. I could immediately tell she was anxious, from the way she stood as if she was ready to bolt, from the way her eyes darted around the room we were gathered in. But to me, she was still a vision.
I never got tired of taking her in, from her wild, flyaway hair to her dirt-smudged shoes. She was my little healer. Mine to protect, mine to love.
Mine to teach.
I shoved the inappropriate thoughts of all the things I wanted to teach her away as I crossed the floor. Pausing for a moment, I joined her outside and shut the door behind me, giving us the illusion of solitude. Elodie was guarding her, clearly, but she’d stopped fifteen paces away, giving us the appearance of privacy, at least.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, taking in her disheveled and grass-stained clothing. There was even a twig in her hair. Now that I was standing closer, I could see a faint smudge of dirt down the side of her face. What had she been up to? My gaze came to rest on the little glass jar clutched in her hands, and I cocked an eyebrow in question.
“No, it’s not. I’m sorry, I’ve been going over what to say for the whole time we were walking, but nothing feels right. About what I said earlier…” Her cheeks were pale, and her sweet, fruity scent was tinged bitter with… regret?
I rocked back, physically shaken by the sudden change. What did she regret? What she’d said, or how I’d reacted?
Only one way to find out. But I couldn’t bear it, her scent heavy and bitter like that, without doing something to ease her discomfort. I reached out slowly-giving her ample time to back up or push me away-before resting my hands on the outside of her elbows, stroking her soft skin with my thumbs in a soothing motion.
She shuddered under the simple touch, her scent changing as quickly as the breeze. Sweet and pungent, with the merest hint of spicy arousal.
Damn. She was so responsive, it pulled an echoing response from me.
“It’s okay. Take your time.” I finally spoke, trying to distract myself from that tantalizing thread of arousal I knew she also felt.
She nodded, lower lip wobbling before she bit it into stillness. I watched her as if she held the key to every puzzle in my life, while she gathered her composure. Shoulders rolled back, chin lifted. Finally, she released her lower lip when she was ready to keep talking. It was fascinating the way she went from shy, reserved she-wolf to bold, brassy healer, but I’d watched the transformation happen, piece by piece.
Her healer profession gave her mettle, a strength she didn’t feel otherwise. Hence the jar.
Interesting. I stole every bit of knowledge I could get about her, and I filed that tidbit away for later like a petty thief hiding a particularly shiny bauble.
“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. After I left, I talked to the girls… They all agreed I was wrong to ask you not to take the challenge.”
You could have knocked me down with a Goddess-damned feather. She was sorry? For telling me how she felt?
“You don’t ever have to be sorry for telling me how you feel. Even if I don’t like it. I wouldn’t ask that of you.”
She swallowed hard, eyes skating away from me as if she couldn’t really hear what I was trying to tell her.
I gripped her chin with my thumb and forefinger, pulling her face toward me so that there was no way she could avoid looking me dead in the eyes when I spoke. “You don’t ever have to hide from me. No matter what. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and we are in this together. Besides, my little mate has claws, and that’s exciting, not a defect.” I released her chin, opting instead to trace my fingertips along her jaw, down to the column of her neck where I could pull her closer.
Her eyes turned molten with lust, a faint, silvery glow I hadn’t seen before telling me her wolf liked what I was saying, what I was doing. My own vision sharpened as my wolf showed up to the party, meeting hers tit for tat.
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