Chapter 3
Rowen
The next morning, I woke as the bed dipped, and Wolfe slipped into bed beside me.
I hadn’t expected to sleep nor sleep soundly at that. There had been no restless night for me, but sometime during the night, I had made my way over to his side of the bed, and I bit my lip as he valiantly tried to wedge his massive body into the tiny space I’d left him, without waking me.
“I’m awake,” I murmured, moving back, but he reached out and caught me, halting my movement. “Wolfe?”
“I just got comfy,” he said, barely above a whisper, and I heard the exhaustion in his voice. “Just gimme five minutes before you leave.”
I didn’t answer, but I also didn’t move, and I felt the tension in his arm loosen as his body relaxed. His touch didn’t linger; he never left any part of himself touching me, maintaining clear boundaries. It seemed that it was enough for him just to know that I was beside him.
My tummy fluttered at the thought. I wanted it not to mean anything, but like Wolfe, I wasn’t a liar either. It meant more than it should have, more than I wanted.
He didn’t need five minutes. He was asleep almost instantly, his breathing steady and quickly evened out. I tipped my head back, and as the warmth of dawn’s light crept across our bedroom floor, I watched him sleep.
His face was relaxed but still looked heavy with the weight of the last couple of months.
I itched to reach out and feel the softness of his eyelashes; they shouldn’t be allowed to be that long on a man.
They were so soft and tempting, a complete contradiction to the man.
He wasn’t soft, but I needed to correct myself—he was definitely a temptation.
Tentatively, I reached out, and my finger trailed across his sharp jawline, his stubble rough against the soft pads of my fingers. My fingertips skimmed over the softness of his mouth, my heartbeat quickening as I remembered the times when his lips had tasted mine.
If someone had told me ten years ago, when I told him I would never marry him, that I would be lying in his bed now, as his mate—so close yet still so far apart—I would have questioned their sanity.
I was still questioning mine.
My hand rested on the curve of his neck, my thumb tracing back and forth over the smooth column of his throat. I had no right to touch him, but at the same time, wasn’t I the only one with the right to touch him?
It wasn’t meant to be this tough. When we were younger, Goddess…we fit together so perfectly. Wolfe and I were like two peas in a pod, feeding off each other, pushing one another forward, happy together. Where did that go?
I told him he would never be my husband, that I would marry for the good of the pack, but I never thought he would leave.
I never expected him not to be in my life.
We’d been friends long before he leaned down one afternoon and kissed me.
It had felt so right when he did it that I felt betrayed when he left—I resented the fact that he would leave.
Leave me.
Looking back at everything, how could I doubt that we were mates? Hindsight really was a bitch, and the truth was a bitter pill to swallow.
I ruined us.
My actions then were the source of his anger now. Just like my actions now were one of the reasons my pack was fracturing.
“What is it?” His voice was little more than a wisp of breath in the quiet of the room.
My thumb stilled as my breath caught. Quickly, I licked my lips, my throat and mouth suddenly dry.
“I thought you were asleep,” I murmured.
His eyes opened a fraction, sharp despite his fatigue. “I am asleep,” he said, with a slow curve of his upper lip that had no right to look as devastating as it did, as my insides twisted and turned at the sight of how sexy he looked.
The bond between us gave a little tug, like it too was slow and sleepy in the morning light but letting us both know it was there…waiting.
I realized my hand was still on his neck, and I moved to take it away, but he caught it deftly, bringing the tips of my fingers to his mouth, brushing them over his lips like I had done when he was asleep.
“Mm-hmm,” he said, his breath warm over my skin. “I wondered what that was,” he said softly.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” I admitted.
His gaze held mine, and the silence between us stretched. It wasn’t uncomfortable, it was the opposite. It felt perfect. How was that possible when so much uneasiness lay between us?
“I should get up.” I pulled my hand back from his, but his grip tightened, just a fraction, but enough to stay my withdrawal.
“Did I get my five minutes?” he asked me, his eyes still half-lidded, watching me lazily, letting my hand go.
“I don’t know,” I told him, feeling the flush rise on my cheeks, not wanting to tell him I had been lying there just staring at him as he slept.
“Then I think you owe me five minutes,” Wolfe said, closing his eyes. I flinched in surprise when his hand settled on my hip, just a light touch, nothing heavy. “You can give me that, yeah?”
I was sure that I already had, but I nodded anyway, and then my fuddled brain reminded me he couldn’t see me.
“Okay.” My husky voice caused one of his eyes to open. Wolfe said nothing as he looked at me and then closed it once more. His thumb began to move in a slow circle over my hip.
I didn’t protest.
Soon, the slow circles stopped, and his breathing returned to slow and steady.
Every molecule in my body wanted to stay here, but common sense reminded me why that wasn’t a good idea.
Carefully, I inched away from him, careful not to move the sheet too much, until I was at the edge of my side of the bed.
With care, I got up and grabbed the nearest set of clothes.
I left the house, not even bothering to shower, intent on putting as much distance between me and Wolfe as possible before he woke up. My mind was reeling from the rightness of this morning.
This was precisely why I didn’t sleep beside him. I couldn’t be trusted.
Adair opened her door wide with a sleepy yawn, saying nothing as she stepped aside to let me in. I used her shower, and when I came out, she had made coffee.
“You want to talk?” she asked as I gulped down the black nectar.
“I need to find Sherry,” I answered.
“She’s okay,” she told me. She sat down in her armchair, her legs folding up beneath her as she got comfortable. “She doesn’t blame you.”
“You spoke to her?”
Adair shook her head. “Not directly, I spoke to her neighbor. I think Wolfe did, though.”
“When?” He’d left the house late last night and was home at dawn. You didn’t go and console someone in the early hours of the morning.
Adair yawned again. “I don’t know, I just think he did. I met him a few hours ago, and he was coming from the direction of their house.”
“You met Wolfe a few hours ago? At night?” Why did that make my wolf jump up and snarl?
Adair’s eyes widened, her body more alert. “We passed on the path from the ridge. I was coming in from patrol.” She watched me closely. “You okay with that?”
“Of course.” My answer was too quick. Too tight. She grinned. “Shit.” I sat down, knowing I was caught. “I can’t control it.”
“Your jealousy?” She was practically giggling.
“It’s not funny.”
“Your irrational, possessive jealous streak that you show when you think of anyone with your mate?”
“You’re not helping,” I muttered as I remembered him lying in bed with the sheet half over him, bathed in the golden light of morning.
“Could you not just fuck him already?”
My coffee sprayed across the floor, my eyes wide as I choked at her bluntness.
“The pack would really appreciate your ‘sacrifice.’” Her shit-eating grin was enough to stop my coughing, and I got to my feet.
“Normally, I would offer to help clean up my mess after spitting on your floor, but for that”—I headed to the door—“I won’t.”
I left her house, fighting my grin, hearing her chuckling at my expense as I walked away.
Perhaps it would be easier just to get it over with. He was a fantastic kisser, his hands alone could make me moan, and having seen him naked, I was sure he knew what to do with the gift the Goddess had given him between his legs.
Plus, I really, really wanted to have sex with him.
For all the wrong reasons. It would be so much better if he wasn’t my fated mate. But he was, and if I had sex with him, then the bond would be complete, and I would be tied to his side until death. Perhaps beyond. I was fuzzy on the details, having no one to ask.
Goddess, I missed my dad.
He’d have this sorted within hours of the truth surfacing. But then…if Dad were here, Wolfe wouldn’t be. I hated how that wasn’t a better solution.
I made my way to Sherry’s house. Seeing the door was open, I pushed all my problems aside, gave a tentative knock, and stepped inside.
She was in their kitchen, eyes red-rimmed and tired. She was holding a cup of something, and she didn’t straighten when she looked at me, just gave a sigh, as if expecting me and wishing I hadn’t shown up.
“Sherry—”
“The alpha already told me everything. All packs suffer losses in times of trouble.” She set her cup down.
“A simple mix-up, it could have happened to anyone.” She looked past me to the open door, as if she was already seeing me walking out of it.
She picked her cup back up, realized it was empty, and I watched her pour a healthy shot of bourbon into it.
“You don’t need to be here, Rowen. I’ll be okay. ”
I moved further into the room, pointed to the bottle, and picked up an empty cup. “Care to share?”
She looked at me for a long time, and I saw her fight the urge to say no, but then she gave a jerk of her head and handed the bottle over. I pulled out a seat and sat down.
We drank in silence. I offered no comfort, and she took none from me being there, but I was there, and for now, for both of us, that seemed to be enough.
I’m not a drinker.
I can drink, but I really don’t like it; I don’t like losing control. I don’t like the giggly, sloppy mess I become.