Page 39 of Never Submit

“You could say that.” No laughter. Not even a hint of it from him, thank goodness. “It just means that you and I are connected for the rest of our lives.”

He drops his hold to my waist and spins me around to face the wall. I automatically press my hands to the tile and let him rub his knuckles against the knots in my back.

“Don’t you think you should have asked me about it first?” I joke.

I crane to look at him over my shoulder, tensed and waiting for his answer. Shit, what if he doesn’t even want a mate? It’s not like I stopped to ask Noble his life goals when it comes to a woman.

There wasn't a lot of time to talk in our desperate race to the shrine.

But now, the weighty sense of toomuchtime is suddenly on me, making it hard to breathe.

Even if he wants a mate, he might not want it to be me. That’s a distinct possibility.

I breathe like it will somehow help me to be okay with the fact that I’m with an honest to god werewolf, connected in a permanent way. Or, rather, help me be okay with already being okay.

“It was just as much of a shock to me.” His voice drops. “I never expected to have a mate.”

Something about his tone gives me pause. “Why not?”

“Those kinds of things don’t happen to men like me,” he admits. “Mates are special things.”

He says it like there’s something wrong with him, andmy heart thuds, jerking up toward my ribs. I know the feeling. Even when there was something special about me, my life given by a mythical goddess, I’d always felt wrong. Doomed.

“Do you think you don’t deserve to be happy? Because if that’s the case let me assure you. A life tied to me probably won’t make you happy every day.” I’ve got to lean into the levity or I’ll go apeshit insane. “I can be a real stubborn bitch.”

The statement has the desired effect when Noble tips back his head and laughs, water from the second shower head cascading down his hair and turning it to magma, molten and alive. The way I feel when I’m with him.

Withthem.

And he’s so handsome. In a rugged kind of way with only a hint of beauty around his eyes, which see right into my soul. Like he’s got the soul of a poet or an artist or a teacher.

“So, if you’re my mate, then I shouldn’t…” I trail off, biting my lip.

It’s probably shitty to bring it up. To ask Noble about it.

How could I have fucked Dax, twice, if Noble is my mate? It doesn't seem possible.

Slut of the week.

But I don’t feel like it. There’s a little bit of shame, but not nearly the wave I expect.

And as if he reads my mind, Noble stops bathing me and draws me into the safe circle of his arms. “You’re very special, Ren Wexler,” he says. “I guarantee the old rules don’t apply to you.”

He finishes washing me before cutting off the shower, wrapping a towel around my shoulders, and guiding me toward his bed. Back massage, hair brush, and suddenly I’mdressed in a clean cotton bra and a cute red long-sleeved button-up blouse.

“The clothes should fit. The underwear is new. I had someone go out and buy them.”

The panties are adorable cotton things, but I’m not putting them on yet. Not when being naked from the waist down feels this good.

I can get used to this pampered thing. If only for a little while. Because man, it feels nice not to have to struggle to survive for once.

To have someone else, someone strong and powerful, watching my back.

“You’re really into this whole taking care of me bit, aren’t you?” I ask softly, gnawing on my cheek.

“It’s my duty and my pleasure to make sure you’re cared for.” He swipes the brush through my hair, one long wave, before pulling it free at the end. I moan and lean back into the contact.

It’s enough to lull me to sleep, but I’m not tired. Not really.

---