Page 21 of A Queen and Her Knight

Zoe became aware that Cleo was whispering. All her movements were muffled, in fact.

She reached out, finding the top blanket and dragging it around her shoulders as she put her feet on the floor.

“I was going to make breakfast,” Cleo went on. This time, Zoe just made out the mumble of someone else on the other end of the call. Either the connection was bad, or Cleo’s walls were more solid than they looked. In an apartment intended for humans, in a town constructed for werewolves, that was a real possibility.

“I make breakfast for myself all the time, Mom!” Cleo’s volume ticked up for a moment before she lowered it again. “Okay, not usually on workdays, but it doesn’t automatically mean I’m seeing someone because I’m making a real breakfast.”

Zoe stopped breathing.

“You always assume everything is serious,” Cleo told her mother. “I wanted French toast. That’s all. I’m not seeing anyone.”

Their sex smells were overpowering, undeniable. Zoe swallowed, but the taste she’d reveled in last night was inescapable now. This was Rejection, she realized, and got to her feet in a panic to avoid the moment Cleo would tell her this had been nice but she wasn’t looking for more. She didn’t want serious, she didn’t want girlfriend, and she didn’t wantmate. She wasn’t seeing anyone, certainly not Zoe with her white cotton underwear and her stupid hair.

Zoe scraped her curls from her face, but her pins were long gone, like the rest of her uniform. She couldn’t bear trying to find it now. She had to go. She’d flee into the woods. She’d escape to parts unknown, like Albert, broken and alone, anything rather than hear her mate say the words,No, I don’t want you.

She fell to the floor on shaky legs, the blanket slowing her down enough for her to remember she was naked. Then she was wolfbefore she had time to consciously think about it. She could go far on wolf legs, wouldn’t have to think of anything unless she wanted to.

But the scents made her dizzy and had her whimpering the moment she’d nosed open the bedroom door:matein the carpet,mateat the couch,matein the kitchen.

“Mom, I have to get ready for work. I’ll call you later, I promise,” Mate said, Spring-mate, Flower-human, who still smelled of Zoe. She ended her call, and Zoe froze to see her. She had her back to her living room and Zoe as she fussed with her stove.

Zoe hunched down, fully prepared to slink away as long as she could get the front door open, but then Mate spun around with a happy humming sound. She was wearing an oversize t-shirt and long bathrobe with a pale pattern lining the inside. Her t-shirt had a large lightning bolt down the middle. Her hairstyle was a wreck from either the pillows or Zoe’s hands.

“Oh my God!” She half shrieked when she saw Zoe and slapped a hand over her heart. She dropped the bag of coffee that had been in her other hand, but it hit the floor without spilling open. She panted for several seconds, her eyes wide, then shook her head. She shook it again when Zoe didn’t move. “Zoe?” she questioned, and took a step forward for a longer, better look at the giant wolf in her living room.

People had seen Zoe as a wolf before. Her packmates, but also others from town when they caught glimpses of each other out in the woods. But never a human in a house like this, never mate.

Zoe stayed a wolf despite that. She didn’t want to shift to human right now. But she didn’t want Mate afraid of her either, so she sat on her haunches and lowered her head.

“You did not look like that when I left you in bed,” Spring-mate burst out excitedly and met Zoe’s stare. She made a noise of confusion when Zoe turned her head away, toward the door. “Oh,” she said a moment later. “Were you trying to sneak out?”

The throb in her voice had Zoe whining before she could control herself. She pushed forward to place her muzzle into her mate’s palm and then licked it. She hated how easy it was to do and how she wanted to do it again. Mate let out a shaky breath and twisted her arm to offer Zoe her wrist like she’d done the night before, but yanked her arm back before Zoe could sniff her. “Last night you said…” Mate cut herself off and turned around to pick up the coffee. “If you want to go, I won’t stop you.”

The waver in her voice made Zoe whine again. She got up in indecision, stared at her paws and then the tense line of her mate’s back, and knew she couldn’t do it. This was why Pack-brother had let Big-mouth stay, even with the pain he must have been in.

She shifted, grunting a little—it expended energy and she’d used up a lot last night, and had never really gotten to eat her soup. She stayed on the floor for another few moments, breathing hard and trying to work up the nerve to speak.

“I couldn’t find my clothes,” she explained hoarsely, and darted a glance to Cleo. Cleo jumped at the sound of Zoe’s voice, but spun around to face her. She’d put the bag of coffee on the counter, in the same spot where Zoe had picked her up and kissed her.

Zoe looked away, face hot, and then got to her feet. She crossed her arms over her chest, even though it felt stupid after everything.

“You want them?” Cleo wondered softly. She might have been staring at the awkward picture Zoe made, but Zoe couldn’t be sure without checking. “You haven’t even showered.”

Zoe lifted one arm to sniff herself, then gave a distracted, embarrassed shrug. “Werewolves have a different view of these things. I liked… I liked how I smell of us.” She lowered her head like the eager, instinctual creature she was.

“There’s a lot to unpack in that statement. And I haven’t had any caffeine yet.” But Cleo didn’t move to prepare any. “I hid your clothes so you couldn’t leave,” she added.

Zoe raised her head in surprise. “Really?”

“No.” Cleo leaned against the counter and crossed her arms. Her mouth looked bruised from so many kisses, but the corners were turned down. “But I should have. I folded them and put them on the couch for you. The stains in your uniform shirt look set. I don’t know if you can get them out. Why am I still talking?” She sighed heavily. “Maybe you weren’t lying last night about wanting something serious, and you just changed your mind this morning. It isn’t like you’re the first to skip out before I can make you breakfast.”

Zoe was very, very bad at this. She swung a look to the couch, where her clothes were neatly stacked and waiting. She turned back toward Cleo, who watched her with an expression Zoe couldn’t read. Zoe’s other senses were too distracted by sex scents to tell her anything useful. Nathaniel always said werewolves, shifters in general, were too quick to forget they could use words, think like humans. As usual, he was probably right.

“You wanted me to stay?” Zoe asked, because that’s what it was beginning to sound like, despite what she’d heard earlier. “Thisis why we’re supposed to take our time with non-weres,” she realized out loud.

“What?” Cleo was capable of stubborn silence. Zoe wished she’d known that before.

She reached for her t-shirt and yanked that over her head to help her feel slightly less naked, although it barely reached the top of her thighs, and that only when she pulled on it, which made her nipples stick out.

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