Page 46 of Crescent Warrior

“Stop it,” she murmured quietly.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Xander replied, his voice intense.

“No, I don’t,” Cole growled, stomping over to get in his face. “But I’m going to earn her trust back, eventually.”

“Stop,” she snapped, just as the others turned around to watch the spectacle they were making of themselves. “Sorry,” she threw out with a wan smile. “Boys will be boys.”

Everyone chuckled, shaking their heads and heading up the steps to enter the plane.

“Xan,” she whispered, spinning around to narrow her eyes at him. “Calm down.”

Xander didn’t look like he wanted to, but he listened, turning to glare at Cole as he walked to the plane.

“Well, fuck,” Pearce muttered, scrubbing his hand over his eyes. “This is complicated.”

“Not really,” Hippolyta shrugged. “As long as you don’t say anything.”

“I smelled you on him.” He shook his head. “And it’s fainter, but his scent’s on you too. Do you really think no one will notice?”

“So, he helped me through my heat,” she said, her words so nonchalant Cole felt as though they pierced through his heart. “No one needs to know anything else.”

“Better keep that scarf on, then.” Pearce snorted out a laugh, shaking his head as he turned, waving at them.

Ambrosia stood nearby, giving him a worried smile. When his mate turned to him, sighing, he wasn’t sure what to say. That was something that never happened between them before.

“Sorry about that.” Her eyes were sad and worried. “It’s going to take some time—”

He nodded, cutting off her words, unable to look at her. If this was what it would be like pretending they weren’t mates, he would be in agony until she accepted him.

It wasn’t as bad as their separation, though. The constant ache, the sleepless nights, and the century-long misery felt as though it never happened now that he was near her. She was his beacon.

“He’ll regret his words when he finds his own mate,” he said with a small, fake smirk.

Hippolyta graced him with a real smile, reaching up to tuck a strand of unruly hair back on his head. He savored the gesture, nostalgia clamping hard around his heart.

There were never boundaries between them when they were younger. Touches and caresses were doled out in excess and he used to soaked up every single one.

He was starved for contact from her back then and now he knew why. He must have known what she was to him deep down. It was only his idiotic brain that never made the connection.

“Dru tells me I should cherish my mate,” she whispered, trailing her fingers down his cheek. “And that I should push aside the past.”

“A wise wolf,” he murmured, his eyes drooping at the feel of her hands on him.

Their chemistry was a firecracker, the heat between them overwhelming, but this wasn’t that. This was an affectionate touch that didn’t have anything to do with sex. She was touching him like they were friends again.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. He felt her fingers move to his shoulders, tightening there as if to hold him close. He dropped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head.

Just like I used to.

The feeling of a lock and key was never stronger. She was his perfect fit.

“Everyone can see us,” she whispered, but he noticed that she didn’t make any move to get out of his hold.

“I missed this,” he murmured, squeezing her tight.

“Me too.” Her breath warmed his chest, and he held back the shudder of pleasure that passed through him. When she pulled away, she avoided looking at him, clearing her throat. “Come on.”

They made their way to the plane with a grin plastered across his face.

---