“Woohoo!” Hendrix whoops, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Excellent!”
I execute another turn on the motorcycle. It rained yesterday, so Hendrix has taken me out to a muddy patch of dirt road and is teaching me how to handle the bike in those sorts of conditions.
“It’s better to practice in a controlled environment like this so you’re ready in case you get caught out in a storm unawares,” he explains.
It makes sense, and it’s turned out not as scary as I feared. First, Hendrix had me hold on while he drove and he purposefully skidded a bit in the mud, then got out of it. Now, it’s my turn.
As I go through the mud and successfully don’t let it stop me, getting out of fishtails and avoiding getting my wheels stuck, I feel a swell of pride in my chest like a golden bubble. I’m sure that it’s not my own. I’m almost certain it’s Hendrix.
It’s something I’ve noticed more and more since the rodeo. I don’t want to turn out to be crazy so I haven’t said anything, but I can’t help but notice the way an emotion will wash over me, an emotion that I know I’m not having. For one thing, it won’t make sense for me to have it—anxiety where I feel calm, joy where I feel tired—and for another, it doesn’t feel like mine. I don’t know how to describe it, since it’s an emotion, but it’s almost like my emotions are one color, or perhaps one note of music, and these emotions are another.
It's instinctive, and I’m sure I’d sound insane if I said it out loud, but I know what I’m feeling.
I bring the motorcycle to a halt in front of Hendrix and place my foot down to brace, and Hendrix claps. “You’re getting a lot better at this.”
“Thanks.” I grin at him. I’m still not comfortable getting to high speeds but my control is getting a lot better.
The pride pulses through me, warm and welcoming as the sun. I swallow. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Go for it.”
“I feel… okay, this will sound crazy.”
“Jesse calls you ‘wildcard’ for a reason, darlin’. We already know you’re crazy.”
I chuckle, then take a deep breath. “Well, in that case, here goes. It’s like I can feel how proud of me you are.”
“I’m glad. I want you to know how proud I am.”
“No, no, I mean I can literally feel it. It’s like there’s this sun inside of my chest, warming me up.”
“Oh?” Hendrix’s tone is neutral. I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“It’s not the first time I’ve felt something like this. I’ve felt like the past few days… ever since the rodeo, honestly… as if I can feel at times what you all are feeling.”
My words come out slowly, hesitantly. I don’t want him to think I’m insane.
But Hendrix just nods, looking thoughtful. “It’s not uncommon for something like this to happen. Especially after we’ve been with you through your heat.”
“It’s—it’s not?” I give a nervous laugh. “I thought I was imagining it.”
“You’re not, definitely.” He grins. “It’s a real thing.”
I swallow. “Is it… um… a thing that happens between Alphas and their mates?”
“It can,” Hendrix says, his tone still calm and casual. “But just because you feel our emotions sometimes and vice versa doesn’t mean that you’re stuck with us.” His voice lowers a bit, getting more serious. “You’re not trapped here.”
Relief seeps through me and I nod, a knot of anxiety that I hadn’t even realized was in the pit of my stomach dissipating. “Thank you.”
Hendrix smiles at me. “It’s up to you to accept an Alpha or an Alpha pack’s bites. That’s what will seal the mating bond. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want—and if you never want a bite, that’s okay too.”
I nod, grateful for the reassurance. And yet… I feel oddly sad when Hendrix says never.
Just a few short months ago the idea of receiving a bite and mating with an Alpha, or a pack of Alphas, was terrifying to me. I didn’t even want to consider it. Maybe someday, but that ‘someday’ didn’t matter, because all that mattered was my career and getting it back on track.
Now… now I don’t know. It makes me sad to think I would never in my life join with someone so intimately. I think I might actually want that—the real life version of the romances I edit and publish and, even if it’s just as a hobby, write.
Hendrix must notice that I’m starting to get stuck in my thoughts, because he grins and nudges me with his elbow. “Come on, let’s get back on that bike. It’s time to try something new. I think you’re ready.”