I lift a shoulder. My nerves are too jumpy to get any more down, but I say, “You don’t double up when you miss a meal.”
“I do.” He grins, pops a bite of steak in his mouth, and chews. I can’t stop watching his jawbone work. It’s cut so sharp, it’s like watching a machine.
My stuffed belly clenches. Not with hunger.
Oh, crap. It’s not heat again? So soon?
I flutter the collar of the T-shirt. I’m not particularly hot, but it can’t hurt to get some air moving.
Killian’s eyes track my movement. “You in need again?”
I gulp and choke on nothing. “No.”
I push the plate away and cross my arms tight to my chest. And I stop looking at his jaw. And his throat bobbing as he swallows.
I should get up and start the dishes. That would give my hands something to do.
But my body is heavy. I don’t want to move further away. I can’t.
What’s going on with me?
Panic flares, skittering inside me, and then there’s a pulse through the bond, cool and calm.
My gaze flies to Killian’s. He’s watching me. And he seems confused, too. Perturbed.
He narrows his focus, and the pulse between us becomes a flow from him to me. The cool and the calm develops dimension, a smoothness, almost a scent. Toffee.
I press my palm to my chest. The sensation runs over the back of my hand, like a shaded stream in summer, a lazy current that soothes feverish skin.
I can’t suppress a small smile. This is magic.
Killian feels it, too. I know he does. He’s blown away, too, he’s just playing it cool by focusing on his food.
Killian’s lips curve the slightest bit, and he scoops up his last forkful of eggs. “After this, we’ll shower and head to the gym.”
We will? I thought I’d go home. Shower. Process.
“Can’t leave ‘em unsupervised for too long. They start brawling.”
“Don’t they go to the gym to train to fight?”
“Yeah, but if you don’t watch them, they break shit.”
“I can go back to my cabin.”
He shakes his head before I finish the offer. “You know you can’t, Una.”
“Why not?”
“Heat,” he says as if it’s obvious.
Which it is.
I’m not even sure why I’m arguing. Yeah, I want to hide in my room, and tell Kennedy everything, and brush my teeth, and think. But the reality is that I can’t even bring myself to walk across the room to the sink. I can’t fathom being so far from him that I can’t hear him breathe.
My wolf is pretty much rolling her eyes at me, but some weird biological event doesn’t magically change everything. Yesterday, I had my own business. My own place. My own life.
So now, just like that, I’m tethered to Killian? Like the dog Eamon Byrne’s mate keeps in their backyard so that when he sneaks out at night, she knows? I don’t want to be Max.
If I’m going to try and figure this thing out with Killian, I want to decide—not my primal instinct.
Eventually, after the silence has stretched well past awkward, Killian sighs and lets his fork clatter to his plate. “We should get going.” He reaches for my dishes and stacks them. Finally, I can stand, too. He clears the table, and I wander to the doorway.
The way out is right there. Less than fifteen feet away. Nothing but open space between me and the front door. I step toward it. The bond stretches. I take another. The bond is taut now, but it doesn’t hurt.
“Una?”
I don’t turn around. I don’t choose this. Killian rejected me. I can’t just say, “Oh, well. Everyone makes mistakes. Now we’re a couple.” He controls everything in this pack, but not me.
I stagger forward on my good leg, dragging the bad. There’s a sharp, shooting pain. I can bear it. As I cross the living room, it eases. See? I’m stronger than whatever this is between us.
I go on, and with every step, it gets better. I reach for the knob and throw the door open. It’s past noon, and it’s a glorious day. The sky is robin’s egg blue, not a cloud in sight. The green leaves at the very tops of the tallest trees flutter in the breeze, but otherwise, it’s perfectly quiet, fresh, and still.
I step out onto the porch.
Killian steps beside me.
I blink up.
He quirks the corner of his lip, ruefully.
“Were you following me the entire time?”
He nods, and then he exhales. “So I guess we’re going where you want today then?”
He props his hands on his hips and surveys the cabins clustered further down the path, resplendent with his usual arrogance and command.
No one’s out and about. At this hour, everyone’s working. He’s not standing like this to impress or intimidate. This is how he stands. The lord surveying his kingdom.
And he just followed at my heels while I tried to walk out on him.
“Maybe we could go back in first, though?” he says. “Get me a shirt. Get you some pants?”
He shifts to his heels and scratches his back as if we’re ordinary folks, settling on our plans for the day. And oh, it’s tempting. To let go. Let this new future carry me away. My wolf is already onboard.
But I’m stuck. And it’s not only because of the hours in the briar patch or Killian’s rejection in front of the pack. Somehow—and I don’t understand, but it’s true anyway—the wound is a lot older than a few days. The hurt goes back to long ago before I can remember. And that doesn’t make sense, but it’s real.
I can admit it now. Every time he touched Haisley or one of the other females, I knew it wasn’t my business, and it was wrong to feel, because I’m not a jealous person—I don’t begrudge people happiness—but it hurt. In the back of my mind, I thought it was because I wanted what I’d never have, and I was ashamed to feel that way. But still. It burned.
It’s too confusing. Too much.
“I don’t want to be your mate,” I say.
“You’re stubborn as shit, aren’t you?”
“Not usually.”
“I am.”
I bend my neck to squint up. Killian’s still surveying his kingdom. He doesn’t look down to meet my gaze.
“Pisses folks off, but comes in handy,” he says.
An elder appears at the bottom of the path. I shuffle a step behind Killian. I don’t have pants on, and I’m standing on the alpha’s porch past lunch time with my hair a knotty mess. Maybe we should get dressed. Figure things out from there.
I can’t solve anything here and now.
“I don’t have any clothes.”
“You do.” He turns and gestures me back into the cabin. “I sent someone to get some of your things from Mari this morning while you were sleeping.” He nods to a bag I hadn’t noticed by a rocking chair.
I grab it and hold it to my chest. “Thank you.”
He shrugs.
“And thanks again for breakfast.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” His voice is gruff like I’ve insulted him.
“I guess we can go to the gym.” We might as well. It’s better than being alone together in this cabin with the nest nearby and the air growing thicker.
Fate, I wish Abertha was here. It’s not like she’d definitely give me answers about what’s happening—she’s way too invested in her mysterious crone persona to give it to me straight, but she might. And I wouldn’t feel so powerless. I’d have a friend who can kick ass.