My anger didn’t fade exactly, yet another emotion blanketed it. Awe, a complete sense of wonder and elation.
I frowned. I wasn’t elated. I was still mad. And he was still on top of me.
“Move, Thomas. Now, or so help me, you won’t like what happens next.”
He chuckled, kissed my forehead, and rolled off me. He didn’t get out of bed but pulled me to his chest, cuddling against me. He kissed my temple.
“Whether you like it or not,” he said, “you’re my world now. Sleep. I promise I won’t wake you again.”
He sighed and relaxed behind me. I lay there stunned. What had just happened? Was his head damaged? I still hadn’t given him permission to sleep in my bed. Despite my angry thoughts, I couldn’t seem to hold onto my agitation. Contentment and something softer continued to defuse my hostile emotions, which just made me angrier.
I drew back and elbowed him. He grunted and quickly caught my arm.
“Sweetheart, why are you so angry?”
Sitting up, I glared down at him.
“Sweetheart? Since when am I your sweetheart? And I’m angry because you’re ignoring me.”
“I am most definitely not ignoring you.”
“Then why are you still in my bed?”
“Because I’m not ignoring you.”
“You are making absolutely no sense.”
“Charlene, what do you feel?”
“Annoyed.”
His eyes glowed brighter for a moment and a tendril of desire washed over me. I was thankful the dark hid my blush.
“What now?”
I stared down at him.
“How did you know...?”
“Because what you felt wasn’t your emotion; it was mine.” He lifted a hand and gently tugged the end of a section of my hair. “Did you know the moonlight is highlighting your already beautifully pale hair? It almost glows to me. It’s softly curling around your face. You’ve never looked prettier. And when you’re angry, your lips and cheeks take on a darker shade of pink. I can’t see anything else but your lips when you’re upset. It’s as if nature’s daring me to kiss you just then. ‘See if you can make her happy again.’ And I want to try now more than ever before. But I won’t.” He wrapped his hands around my face. “Because you were right. You are different. I won’t forget again.”
He was talking circles, and I had no idea what to make of it.
“What are you talking about?” I said.
“I couldn’t Claim you because you had to Claim me.”
My annoyance disappeared in a poof.
“Past tense? ‘You had to Claim me.’ Why are you talking like I’ve already—” Panic set in. “No.” I pulled away from his touch. He remained on his back, watching me.
“Winifred extends her congratulations.”
“I don’t want her congratulations or her cookies.” There wasn’t any anger behind the words, just panic. I’d just attached myself to these people. Part of me was happy. Though it wasn’t my plan, and I truly wasn’t ready for the relationship these werewolves had described, Claiming Thomas did secure my place here. Plus, Thomas was amazing. I scowled, realizing his contentment and happiness was influencing my thoughts.
What if Winifred found out about what I could do? She wouldn’t if I stopped using my ability. Claimed, I should have a certain level of protection—I hoped.
I recalled Mary’s words about Claiming and what usually comes next. I swallowed hard.
“Will you still keep your promise?” I asked.
“Which promise is that?”
“You won’t take more than I’m ready to give?”
“I swear.”
Unless I knew how to undo a Claim—information I doubted Thomas would share—I was stuck here. I considered him for a moment. Was this such a bad place to be? I sighed heavily then curled against his side and laid my head on his shoulder.
“What will your pack say?” I asked as he wrapped an arm around me.
“Should I tell them now and see?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I think we can still use the reprieve of their absence.”
He kissed my temple again.
“No more talking. You need sleep.”
I kept quiet and listened to his breathing slow. He seemed to need the sleep more than I did. As I lay there in the dark, my thoughts circled several facts. Thomas had taken my request to learn about me, about being human, seriously. He’d never wavered from his conviction that I was the right one for him. And he freely admitted just how much he cared about me. If I were honest with myself, I cared about him, too.
I’d initially decided to stay here because I felt they could keep a secret about what I could do. Though I’d continued to believe they could keep secrets, I hadn’t been willing to part with mine. Claiming Thomas changed things. I didn’t want to build a relationship with him on misconceptions or lies. Yet, I wasn’t sure if I could trust Thomas with the truth.
There was a woven basket on the table when we entered the main room the next morning. The room was otherwise empty. Curious, I stepped up to the table, peered into the basket, and saw Ann’s sleeping daughter.