Page 135 of The Wolf Prince's Mate

“I’ve got about a day. My temperature starts rising after the tingles.”

“So you’ll go into heat around…” he glanced at the clock. “Four AM tomorrow?”

“Yup.”

“Sounds like fun.”

I flashed him a small smile. “Maybe I’ll stay asleep and just let you ravage me when the rut wakes you up.”

He rumbled. “Don’t tempt me, woman.”

“I like it when you’re tempted.”

Sex hadn’t happened in days, which was fine. He was dealing with some intense shit, and I wasn’t going to push him.

There was no avoiding it when it came to heat, though.

He rumbled a little longer, and I refocused on his ink.

A few minutes passed before he asked, “Are you getting close?”

“Yeah, just a few more little things.”

“Alright.” There was a pause. Clay sounded a little uncomfortable when he admitted, “I’ve been trying to deconstruct the cage. I seem to rebuild it automatically every time me or the wolf takes it down.”

“The one in your head?” I didn’t look away from his ink, obviously. Permanent art was more important than a conversation. I still listened closely, though.

“Yeah. The one around my wolf. He doesn’t seem to care whether it’s there or not, which supports your theory.”

“The theory that you can’t actually trap him?”

“Yeah. I thought I was stronger than him. Strong enough to control him.”

“You’re both strong in your own ways.”

“I guess.” He stayed quiet while I finished up the last few things, and didn’t move as I set my machine down. “It’s going to be a while before I feel ready to be around the pack like this. Without the cage.”

“We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“You have your studio,” he argued. “There are probably a hundred appointments you’ve had to cancel, and I’m sure none of them are thrilled about it. You love your job. I don’t want to fuck with that.”

“You’re more important than my work, Savage.We’remore important than my work. My clients will wait, or they’ll find another artist to finish for them. And it’s not like I need the money. I’m engaged to the wolf prince, and he already bought me a house and an expensive vehicle.” I cleaned his tattoo slowly, not in any kind of a hurry. “Stop worrying about me. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

“I still feel bad.”

“You want to make it up to me?” I asked, finally lifting my gaze to his.

“Of course I do,” he growled.

I took my time grabbing a few sheets of bandages and started placing them over his tattoos.

“Nova,” he warned.

“Shh. I’m working.”

He made a sound of annoyance, but waited while I covered everything I’d worked on that day.

When I smoothed the last bandage over his skin and dropped the plastic in the trash bin right next to me, I met his gaze again.

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