Chapter 24
Itrip over my own feet and my shoulder collides with Stark’s door.
“Oops.” I knock on his door. “Sorry, grump,” I say and laugh. I might’ve had a few more than planned. Jocko makes strong drinks.
I turn to my own door and pull the handle, but nothing happens. Why is my door locked? I pull on it again.
“You might want to try pushing on it,” that smooth, calm voice says from behind me.
When I spin, Stark leans against his bedroom doorframe. He’s shirtless. My mouth drops, and I use my hand to cover my gasp. He cannot walk around like that. It should be a pack rule.
“You can keep your grumpy comments to yourself.” I rotate and push the door open.
But Stark doesn’t go back to bed, instead he’s entering the room behind me as I spin. I start another song on my phone and ignore him. It’s me, my music, and a good night with friends. His mood can’t ruin this—and neither can his striking body I want to bite.
Never mind. I did not just think that.
I sway and twirl to the song while I strip my shirt off, tossing it toward the dresser. It’s not like Stark hasn’t already seen me naked. Plus, I have a bra on. I bend over and pull down my shorts.
He groans. “Red, keep your clothes on.”
“You’re the one in my room,” I say, taking them off completely.
I stand straight and pull open the top drawer, moving to the music while I find a pair of silk shorts and a tank top to sleep in.
Nikki and Stark might have not slept together, but maybe he’s like super old fashioned and needs the ceremony to be done first. I have no idea, but she says they’re mates; that is something werewolves don’t lie about. I slip both on and turn toward him.
“Red.” There’s a warning edge to the word.
“You missed out on the dance party.” I leap toward my bed, landing across it, then prop my head up under my elbows and watch him. My legs kick in the air.
The muscles in his chest rise and fall with each breath. “I didn’t know we were having one. I wouldn’t say I was in the dancing mood.”
“Right. Why’d you go for a late night run?” I tilt my head and watch the muscles on his body go tight, sending an undesired warmth below my stomach. I want to throw the flannel blanket at him to cover up.
“Overheard something. Needed some air.”
“Been there before.” Almost every day, if I listen to the thoughts going on in this house.
“What was it? Some big secret? Find out your mate’s secretly trying to kill you?
” I laugh and roll over to stare at him upside down, the lines of his jaw more pronounced.
The thin black straps of my tank top slide off my shoulders.
“Something like that.” Calm. Collected. A stone-faced mask. I liked it when he was angry, or worried. Showing some sort of emotion across his face.
“Well, I’m sorry. It sucks to hear things you wish you didn’t. Believe me.” For the first time all day, I listen back in, but Stark’s thoughts stay quiet.
“Did you like being there?” He rubs his hand across his abs and scratches his side. My eyes are glued to him—to the obvious V going straight to something I need to not be thinking about.
I twist again and sit up, crossing my legs. “Where? At the Uprising?”
“Yeah.” Why did she come back?
My face falls, along with my heart. I guess one of them isn’t happy I came back.
“There were moments,” I admit. I think of Gretch’s smiling face, the crowd of clapping and hollering when I shot my first high-powered rifle, dancing down the path after the bar with Tripp.
“But . . .” Stark’s face stays straight, but his eyes watch me as I talk.
“I went there for a purpose. Then there were moments, that, uh . . .” I wrap my hands around my ankles and hold tight.
Stark’s huge wolf body in the scope comes to mind, and me opening the connection I’ve never done with anyone except family.
“I would rather not experience again.” Tears drip onto my thigh.
A warm touch brushes my cheek, and when I open my eyes, Stark’s hand falls away.
He sits on the edge of the top sheet and watches me. Why can’t he be mean all the time? This isn’t helping.
“Did someone hurt you?”
“Oh no, it’s a long story.” Involving me shooting at you.
“You didn’t fall in love there?”
“What? Why would you ask if I fell in love?” I leap off the bed and stand in front of him. The motion makes my stomach slosh, and I grip it with arms tight, not minding my sagging straps.
“It’s a question. Did you?” The Alpha voice is back, and I want to scream.
“I wasn’t exactly there for romance.”
He huffs at my comment. Rude.
“If we’re talking about love, why haven’t you done the mating ceremony yet?” I reach out and run my fingers across his forearms. My heart skips at the tingles crawling up my arm, and I trace where his mark would be if I were to make it.
“Why aren’t you? Or are humans more your type?” There’s an unusual snipe to his voice.
I drop my hands. What am I thinking? Stupid tequila. He’s M.A.T.E.D.
My anxious hands go to my hips. “When would I have had the chance? And what? ‘Cause I’m more like them than I am like you?”
“You said you got close with someone at the camp?” How am I supposed to know what she wants?
“Do you mean Tripp?”
Stark’s blue eyes are like lasers boring into me, veins crawling up his neck.
“What about him?” I move away to focus on my feet, tracing the length of the rug like a tightrope.
“Did you fall for him?”
This must be the strangest conversation we’ve ever had . . . And we talked about ghosts the other day. I told him Pratt’s voice slips into my thoughts sometimes, so clear it’s like he’s right beside me. He said it’s probably just my conscience watching out for me. I’m not as sure.
I put my arms out to balance. “Why are you even asking?”
“You didn’t answer my question.” If he was in wolf form, I bet his hackles would be up.
“I don’t answer your questions all the time.”
Stark stands up off the bed and leans against the bedpost, crossing his arms. “I want an answer this time.”
“Don’t talk to me like that.” Technically, I haven’t given him a straight answer on anything he’s asked tonight.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m going to look up to you with puppy dog eyes and bow down to the command. You’re not my Alpha.”
He growls, but I just fall off my invisible tightrope and stalk toward the bed.
His chest heaves, but he pauses before talking, the silence long. “Who’s your Alpha then?”
“No one.” I am not officially a part of any cohort since Pratt left. I could be a nomad.
“Back to my question. Did you fall in love with”—his hands grow tense around his biceps—“Tripp?”
Why are we back to this? Did he see the same blush on my face that Lirea pointed out after my talk?
“No, I didn’t.”
His arms relax but stay crossed.
“Anything else?” I smile at him. Despite this weird interrogation, I feel wonderful. Magic hums through me in a nice way. I could dance away the rest of the night.
“So, humans aren’t what you want, even though you’re . . .”
Maybe he wants to set me up with someone so he can hand me off.
“Not a big badass werewolf like you? Sorry, if this is a wake-up call, but you don’t get to judge or have a say in my love life because I’m not like you.
” Heat flares under my skin. I could turn right now, reveal my beautiful ruby-red fur.
He’d probably have a heart attack or try to kill me.
Still, that split second of shock would be a highlight of my life.
What am I doing? Thinking of turning in front of him? This is not a good conversation for tequila to be a part of.
“You are that repulsed by werewolves?”
“Stark.” My eyes dip toward that delicious V before I snap them back up, hand covering my mouth as the wrong words claw up my throat.
“I would . . .” —wrap my mouth around your cock until you yelled my name so loud it woke everyone up in this house and had them breaking down the door.
Except he’s mated, and that won’t change.
The spirits just had to give me magical tingles from the one werewolf I can’t even have.
“You would . . . ?” The patience in him wearing thin.
“I would mate a werewolf, but the real problem is convincing one to mate with me, so good luck with that.” I do a twirl and fan my arms out.
I think I’d want them to fall for me before I told them the truth.
I’d want them to mate me, not the magic in my blood.
I wish Pratt and I had this conversation, about me eventually finding someone.
“Can we like move on to something else? Talking about my failed love life while you’re happy with yours doesn’t make me feel, you know, all bubbly inside.
” I walk over and lay down on the bed again, staring at the ceiling. I wonder what Pratt and Mom are up to.
“You ever wish you could change it?”
I stare at the carved posts next to his bare shoulder—werewolves running in a group. Do I wish I could run with everyone? Not being hidden for almost ten years? Yes. Would I give up my ruby-red fur, the magic I do have, even if it puts me at risk?
“No, I don’t.” My hands run over the top of the comforter.
He raises his eyebrows. “Ever wonder if you’re so hot internally because your werewolf never got released?” For once, he speaks in a normal voice.
“Um, it’s definitely not that.” I pick at a thread on the bottom of my silk shorts.
Stark lies beside me. Tingles whisper over my bare skin, just inches from his. Why is he even in here? Nikki must be asleep in his bed by now.
“Why not? It’s a good theory. Maybe we could get it to release. I’ve been reading books on werewolves who turned later in life.”
I let out a long sigh. “Stark . . . I’ll be okay if no one mates me because I’m not like all of you, but thank you for the help.”
“That’s not why I want to help you.”
I stare at his lips, and my hand reaches out, the tingles like a magnet pulling me closer to him. They grow while I trace down his muscles. The tingles are so nice, I want to feel them everywhere.
Stark takes his hands and grips them around my waist. I’m in the air for a moment before he lowers me down, my legs straddling his defined abs. The sensation fills in all the places. I want it to grow and consume me. It’s better than the tequila.
His hand traces down my arm to my fingers, and he pulls me down to face him. I breathe in his scent. I could replace my rose soap with it. I stare down at his lips, and I want to see if my lips will tingle. Last time we kissed, I can’t remember if they did.
He blinks his mesmerizing eyes, and his hand wraps up in my dark hair. I wonder if he’d like it red? He did say it’s my color.
I think about sliding further down and taking his pants off. Getting the werewolf sex I’ve always dreamed of, wild and hot.
I’ll break her.
What? I shake my head and sit up. Why does he want to hurt me now?
“Why didn’t you fight against having me here with you?” I ask, catching my breath.
He shakes his head in silence.
“I think you should go.” I start to swing my legs off him, but he grips my thighs in place. The tingles crawl deep up my thighs and my body shivers. Good timing for that reaction.
“Why?” His voice comes out low.
“This is wrong.” I push up, but the grip intensifies, and a moan comes from the center of my chest. I try to sit up to give space.
He growls, sliding his hands further up the inside of my thighs, the length of him pressing harder against the dampness under my thin shorts.
“You said you’d mate a werewolf.”
“I did, but not you, obviously.” Because you’re taken.
Stark abruptly lifts me and climbs off the bed. He doesn’t say anything else before the door closes behind him.
I shake my head. He knows I’m right. Even if I’m starting to like his lack of boundaries and that he researches useless things to help me, there’s nothing we can do. Mates are set in stone. His actions make my mind feel like it’s going haywire.
With nothing else to do, I hit play on another song and stand. I’ll dance with myself until this feeling of losing something that wasn’t mine in the first place leaves.