Page 30 of A Queen and Her Knight

Tim cleared his throat. “Those weres fighting over him, over Nathaniel, I mean. They were annoying. He was really pissed about them, actually. They, um, you know, even a were can get out of their senses if they take enough of something, and I guess they were on vacation and being entitled dicks like any other tourists. I know he didn’t like them. It’s not about that. In fact, he really doesn’t like—he doesn’t like it when people look at him and think he’s perfect. He was probably considering murder when one of them dismissed the idea of him having a mate.”

That had happened right as Tim had walked out into the street and seen the fight being broken up. “These idiots apparently thought that just because they fought over him, he was going to fuck the winner. Like he wanted the strongest or the biggest badass or something. They shouldn’t think that about him, or anyone, and by the way, even if thatwereactually a thing, Nathaniel could take both of them in a fight, easily. So what makes them good enough for him? Nothing. Nathaniel’s not their goddamn prize. He’s difficult, and irritating sometimes, and sensitive but he’s better than them. He’s so good. He’s so… he’s not perfect but he’s amazing, and he’s mine, but, of course, no one thinks he belongs with me, because I’m scared, and weak, and selfish, and fucked up. Ugh. Fuck.” The look in Nathaniel’s eyes when Tim had turned and left without speaking to him... “He’s going to be upset that I left like that, but he won’t talk about it if I don’t want to.”

“That seems reasonable. But you’re angry.” That one felt like a question.

“I’m not!” Tim clenched his hands, then forcibly unclenched them. “I’m not. I’m not, I’m—you said anger was usually a secondary emotion, anyway.”

“So, youarescared about it?” Dr. Finch went right to fear, of course he did.

“I’m scared all the time.” Tim was quiet. “He knows that. Everyone probably knows that. I don’t know why I care.” Except he did know, and the reason was named Silas Dirus.

“Well.” Dr. Finch sat up. “If you’re asking, in your unique way, what you should do, I can make a suggestion—aside from the obvious, which is for you to talk to Nathaniel about this. In here, if you’d like. We can arrange that.”

Tim’s mouth was suddenly so dry. “I don’t want to hurt him. He’s mine to protect. But I… I’m hurting him anyway, aren’t I? Running away like I did. What, um, what’s your other suggestion?”

“Talk to someone else about it.” Dr. Finch lifted a hand to forestall any arguments. “Not everything. But some of these issues…. Are there no mated weres who could answer questions for you? Mated weres who arenotyour mate? Because I will venture a guess that the nature of matings means a lot of werewolves have similar worries and doubts.”

“There is only one Nathaniel Neri,” Tim told him seriously, eyes narrowed.

“Yes, thankfully.” Dr. Finch made a pained face. “No offense, but my receptionist almost fainted.”

Tim showed him his teeth. “I don’t think he noticed her.”

“No. He was far too concerned about you, Timothy.” Dr. Finch sat back again and steepled his fingers. “You don’t want him to be concerned?”

Tim grimaced. “I’m tired of…. Some days are harder than others. That’s all. Some days I’m Littlewolf the loser, and being around him…. Look. Aw, fuck.” He growled. “What do I say to him?” Hehatedhaving to ask that.

Dr. Finch was an irritating, smug bastard. “According to you, he knows everything anyway, so why not the truth?” To his credit, he gave no sign that Tim’s lowkey growling was bothering him. “Maybe try to tell him that you have a hard time during moments like those, and it’s not his fault, and you know he loves you, but it’s still hard for you, especially when you’re learning, and he’s so, um…”

“Nathaniel Neri?” Tim filled in for him.

Dr. Finch cleared his throat. “Yes. That. You’re only just learning to navigate the werewolf worldanda relationship. You’re allowed to struggle. To have bad days.”

Tim paused and considered. He heaved a breath. “He’ll want to help.”

“He sounds strong enough to know that there are times when he can’t.” Dr. Finch stood up and put his notepad on his desk. “He did send you here, after all.”

“He didn’t send me!” Tim rose to his feet, although to be honest, Nathaniel had nearly begged Tim to consider therapy after one night of especially bad nightmares. Tim wobbled, abruptly aware that his legs were shaky, his muscles sore as though they had been locked and tense for hours. He held onto the arm of the chair and tried to seem as though he didn’t need it to stand. “You know,” he offered, somewhat quieter, “if I could fight those weres to show him I’m good enough, I would. Which is stupid. He’d hate that too. And anyway, I could just find out their names and destroy them financially.” He paused when Dr. Finch’s heartrate suddenly doubled. “I’m kidding.”

He wasn’t kidding, which was why Nathaniel and all the deputies would hide all that information from him.

“Mmm hmm.” There was a bit of tension in Dr. Finch’s voice now.

“I’m gonna go,” Tim told him, unnecessarily, but he thought it might help him actually start to move. He swayed with the first step, lightheaded, but turned quickly toward the door and didn’t look back.

“See you next week?” Dr. Finch called after him.

Tim just waved. “Yeah yeah.”

The waiting room was empty, because Nathaniel wasn’t there, of course. Even if he had driven Tim today, he wouldn’t be there. He could hear through the walls, and had voluntarily decided to wait for Tim outside every time, rain or snow or shine.

Dr. Finch’s fainting receptionist was nowhere to be found, either, which was fine. Tim wasn’t in the mood to scare her off right now. He took the stairs and not the elevator to give himself time to feel less shaky, but it didn’t matter, since one step outside into the sunlight and Zoe was suddenly at his side.

She frowned, considering him, and then tossed her head. “Bad one?” She didn’t pull Tim in, but a second later he had his face on her shoulder.

“Not really.” Tim swallowed and wondered if he could close his eyes. They were in public, but Zoe smelled safe, and she rubbed his back in cute, tentative circles. He was so tired and he liked her familiar heartbeat. He probably stank of nerves and exhaustion, but she petted him anyway. “On the scale of therapy sessions, this was okay, I guess.” He might take a nap in the truck. Or throw up. “Is he mad at me?”

“Don’t be dumb.” Zoe flicked Tim’s ear, then dropped her head to nuzzle his hair.

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