Page 98 of Mated to the Wolves

“Stop.” I grip his thighs. Jesus, when did they become tree trunks? “It's magic, isn’t it?”

He nods.

Recalling the strange late-night calls with heavy breathing I gasp. “You tried to tell me before. Is it fading?”

He nods again.

“Why now?”

He shrugs.

“This is why you walked away from me? To keep me safe.” I place a hand over my heart as the news blows a hole in the theories I’d gathered about his abandonment over the years.

His green eyes glisten with tears and I’m slammed with a million differing emotions. He ripped out our hearts, walked away without looking back, and suffered my rage and torment to keep me safe.

A knot forms in my throat. I whimper. “Fell.” Hot tears roll down my face.

Sobs escape. Sorrow washes over me like a thunderstorm. Yanking me into his lap he wraps his arms around me.

The boy who vowed to protect me kept his promise long into manhood. Suddenly his strange behavior and hesitancy about everything makes sense.

I bury my hands in the longer locks on the top of his head. “Were you afraid this entire time you were going to void the agreement?”

“Yes.”

I blink back tears. “Thor’s hammer and Fenrir’s chains.”

“I love you,” His voice cracks. “Always have. This second chance means everything.”

“I’m going to read the books we found on the altar.”

Kirk gestures toward the stairs. I appreciate the way he shows us grace by exiting to give me time with Fell.

“I can’t lose you again.” Fell nuzzles my neck, lapping at the gland. We were supposed to mate when we turned eighteen.

“You were supposed to come with me.” My voice breaks.

“I know.” He kisses my jaw. “I’m sorry.”

Could his words and the truth heal the hole his abandonment left? Facts and feelings are tangled together like weeds trying to kill flowers.

“It’s a lot to take in.”

“I know.” He holds me tight, rocking in an effort to soothe me. “Let me make you feel something other than anger. Please.”

I cover his hand with mine. My heart is no longer hardened to him, but all is not forgiven. “I can’t.” Gently, I push his hand away and gingerly slide from his lap.

“Can’t or won’t?” The fierceness of his stare feels like it singes me.

“I need time to process all of this.”

“I think you like punishing me.”

I look away.

“Is that it? You want me to beg you?”

It might help. “I didn’t say that.” My nipples harden.

---