Page 9 of A Queen and Her Knight

Zoe had forgotten all about Carl. She’d also forgotten words. “How…?” she tried, although she had no idea what she was trying to say.

“Oh my God,” Tim exclaimed, but in nowhere near his usual tone of exasperation. “Zoe, oh my God!” He said it with wonder, and then a smile that lit up his face. Zoe frowned at him, more lost than ever until she turned to the human.

She was so little and pretty and breakable, soft and rounded and strong. Zoe smiled at her without thinking.

The human smiled back. “You always seem busy. This is actually the first time I’ve ever seen you not in uniform. I’m Cleo, by the way. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She paused there, then swallowed and held out her hand. Her short, rounded fingernails were painted clear and shiny. She had on jangling silver bracelets that fell against the delicate skin of her innerwrist. Zoe wanted to push them up and bite beneath them. She would very much like those fingers inside her. She needed that mouth on her, and her tongue pressed just there, at the human’s pulse point.

Zoe had the horrifying suspicion she was growling. She couldn’t hear it, but it would explain why the human’s heart was pounding.

Zoe’s attention fell, obviously, too obviously, to the thin tank top and that portion of bared skin, the hint of curving breasts and sweat. Zoe could feel the heat from that spot as surely as she could now hear her own heavy breathing. The warm, intimate place with the throb of blood beneath the surface smelled heavenly, which she was happy to know, at last.Thiswas the source of the scent that had called to Zoe across the café and brought her here. She ought to be fine now that she’d identified it, but she was silent and tense except for her growl. She wondered if her eyes were brown or glinting yellow, and why she was so conscious of the fang now pressed hard into her lower lip.

Tim said something, her name maybe, trying to be calming, but Zoe shook her head to make him go away. She inhaled and dragged her gaze slowly up to the lovely throat and the wide, warm, prettily made-up eyes, and then down to Cleo’s crushed-berry mouth, and back to her throat and that bare skin. If Zoe put her face there, it would probably smell likehome.

Home home home, her mind repeated, joyous and wild, and then finished her off with one shocking thought.

Mate.

“Oh, you… you’re….” She tripped over her own words and ended in a soft whine that brought Tim rushing forward. Pack brother would save her. He’d keep her from ruining this. He was smart wolf. Crafty wolf. A wolf among the humans. He’d knowwhat to do while Zoe stumbled backwards in panic and Mate’s eyes went wide with fear or disappointment.

“Nathaniel,” Tim said, saving her with one word. Zoe listened, fleeing before her mate could lose all faith in her.

~~

Zoe managed to keep from tearing through the station to get to Nathaniel, but once she realized he was alone in his office, she burst through the door with enough energy to nearly take it off the hinges. She hadn’t done that since puberty, something that made her stop and try to act calm.

Obviously, that wouldn’t work around Nathaniel. Even if the door hadn’t tipped him off, Zoe’s appearance and scent would have given away her agitation. Nathaniel looked up from glaring at piles of paperwork that had built up during the busy time around the Full Moon Festival, then went very, very still.

“Zoe,” he greeted her, cautiously, as though she was Little Wolf in a fit of temper and he had to watch his step. “Can I help you?”

“I met my mate,” Zoe blurted, then gasped. Hearing the word was so different from thinking it.

Someone outside agreed, because they gasped too.

Zoe continued to stare anxiously at Nathaniel.

Nathaniel’s smile was slow, but as bright as Tim’s had been.

Oh God. Tim had known. Zoe’s face or her scent or something had given her away, so Tim had known before she had. That wasn’t fair. Someone who’d taken so long to recognize his own mate shouldn’t be so quick to identify hers.

But Zoe stared at Nathaniel’s smile and felt some of the tightness in her chest ease. This was good, then. He wasn’t alarmed or worried.

She felt her mouth curve. Then she remembered the rest. “I left her there.” She opened her eyes wide and put a hand over her racing heart. “I left her there!” Zoe could still see the surprise on her mate’s face as Zoe had bolted from the café. “Oh God, I didn’t even speak to her. I just ran. I stared at her and I growled and then I ran. Oh shit. She’s going to think I’m a freak.”

Nathaniel considered her for several seconds, probably weighing how badly Zoe had fucked it up. But then he inclined his head, as if he wasn’t going to say shehadn’tfucked it up, but it wasn’t as bad as she thought. “She’s your mate, Zoe. That’s the most amazing thing about it. If anyone in the entire world will understand why you’d be afraid in that moment, it’s her. You only have to tell her.”

“Tell her?” Zoe pulled in a painful breath. “She’s not going to want to see me again.”

Zoe wasn’t wheezing, but she was close to it.

Nathaniel pushed away from his desk so he could come over to her and wrap his arm around her shoulders. Zoe didn’t know what was more astonishing, that he would hug her without asking first, or that she let him. He smelled so nice. Nathaniel always smelled nice, like family and dinner and man-smells—the good kind, like how Zoe imagined fathers on old human TV shows would smell. Tim said Nathaniel was like pine and smoke. That was close to what he was, but he didn’t remind Zoe of fire. Nathaniel had strength and heat, but he combed his fingers gently through her hair and let her feel small for a few moments.

He breathed in and out slowly, getting her to do the same, and then he lightly, just once, ran his fingertips down her cheek until she shuddered and calmed.

She was immediately embarrassed to realize she was being coddled. She was not Little Wolf with a nightmare.

She pulled away and stalked over to the couch. After a small pause, she sat. Then she clasped her hands in front of her and stared at him.

Nathaniel stared back, his expression almost worried. But he walked to his desk and sat down again without saying a word. He steepled his fingers as if he intended to wait her out. The horrible thing was, it would work. When Zoe had first arrived in town, eighteen, defensive about everything, and reluctant to talk about even the most harmless of subjects, Nathaniel had done the same thing until Zoe had given in and told him her favorite food.

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