Page 43 of Hunter Moon

In the course of four or eight weeks, it wasn’t like my reflexes would’ve changed significantly. Still, he tapped each of my knees, his hands clean and soft and cold as he listened to my breathing or felt my lymph nodes.

It was all perfunctory and professional. He never pushed me for more than I was willing to give, but he was there, as steady and reliable as he’d always been.

Which gave me a lot of leeway to be a sweaty ball of indecision. “So... Aspen.” My voice rose a little on the second syllable, almost like a question.

Linden’s blue-gray eyes settled on me, and he frowned. “Indeed.”

His sigh then was heavy. He put the stethoscope around the back of his neck and crossed his arms. Five whole syllables into this conversation, and I thought we already understood each other.

We were both hurt. Wary. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a thread of hope in the faint color rising under Linden’s golden skin, the rushing of blood and beating of his heart that said, “Pack! Pack is here.”

At least, that was what it felt like to me.

“Do you think he’s... actually back?” I asked, staring at him. I gripped the edge of the clinic bed, paper crunching under my tight fingers, and leaned toward him.

Aspen had the best intentions—didn’t mean he always did the right thing or never hurt anyone, though. Sometimes, those good intentions meant he said what people wanted to hear, and then disappeared before they knew what’d happened.

Linden’s lips slid together. Keeping his arms crossed, he stared down at the shiny floor tiles and sighed. “That’s what he says. Everything he’s done so far makes me think it’s his intention.”

“That’s good, right?” God, was I ever going to sit across from Linden Grove and feel like anything other than a pitiful kid? Even when we’d been in school, it’d been like that. All of Aspen’s wildness, Linden responded to with perfect temperance. They were close anyway, Linden never begrudging his brother the need to shirk their father’s expectations of him, and Aspen never holding it too much against Linden when he got him into trouble.

It wasn’t like he meant to, just... sometimes Aspen stole a pie for his mom and got caught when Linden didn’t realize that was supposed to be between them.

They were a good match, the best parts of their father’s leadership split into two people—one staid and temperate and kind, patient to a near fault, a selfless healer. And Aspen? He’d have given his life to the pack.

In his own way, he had. He’d thought it best if he weren’t alpha, so he’d left, given up everything he knew, to try and give us our best shot.

It was horribly miscalculated, maybe. Would have been better if he’d stayed and stood up to his father, stayed with me. But even from here, with all that hurt between us in the past, I knew how it would’ve played out.

Aspen Senior would’ve retired, but only under the condition that my Aspen step up as pack alpha. As it was, the only reason Linden had the position was that his father had died and there was no one else there to take it.

Then, my Aspen would’ve spent his whole life chafing against a role he wasn’t suited to, feeling like he was doing all the wrong things every time anything went a little wrong. Eventually, he’d have found a way to remove himself from the equation—turned wolf and run out into the woods and never come back. He’d have been like one of those alphas you heard about who lost their mates and went feral.

And sure, I didn’t like how he’d left ten years ago, but at least it meant that he could come back. He wasn’t too far gone to see a path back to us.

For too long, Linden hadn’t said anything. We were stuck there, staring at each other in the quiet clinic, not even Skye there to break the tension. His eyes were searching my face, probably looking for any sign that what he said next could hurt me.

Maybe I was giving myself too much credit, but I thought I was past that.

“Yeah, it’s good,” he said finally. “I missed him like crazy. And I’m so damn mad at him. But I’d rather have him here and be mad at him than have him gone and feel like I’ve lost him for good.”

I took a slow, shaky breath and nodded. “Yeah.”

I lost my nerve first, stared down at my knees where my pants were still scrunched up.

“Has he been okay with you?” Linden asked gently, his hand coming to settle on my shoulder. Groves were like that—quick to touch, quick to comfort. Even Juniper had her moments.

“Yeah, no, he’s been... We went to the Grille the other night. It was nice. He’s still funny. I don’t know why, but I figured, ten years in the navy, he wouldn’t be funny anymore.”

“Okay. But you don’t have to give him anything more than you want to.”

My cheeks turned hot as the memory of that kiss flooded back. Shit, Aspen hadn’t asked for that. It’d been all me, pushing myself on him, coaxing him open and trying to drown in the familiar feel of...

Mate.

Shut up!It was so fucking easy for my wolf, who was just happy to be reunited with Aspen, our alpha, the one who’d keep us safe and love us and nip our neck that way that felt so good.

“You okay?” Linden leaned in, a little pucker to his brow as he touched my forehead, then my cheek, with the back of his knuckles. “You’re a little warm.”

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