Page 97 of Conner's Luna

Conner freezes, then his head comes down, ever so gently, to rest on the pillow way above me.

"I met your mom and papa. It was terrible. I cried like a loon when I saw your baby handprint on the walkway. Then, I announced that I was starting my period. I'm drunk, by the way, or at least I was. Your papa bought me seventeen different pads and tampons along with six kinds of chocolate. I think he googled it. Stop moving," I grouch when the massive body behind me starts to shake.

The wolf makes a soft, wuffling sound and curls more tightly around me. His tail thumps over my thighs and it's heavy. Heavier than I thought it would be. The heating pad Papa Smurf bought me ran out of warmth a while ago so Conner's heat is a necessity. "My worst symptoms last about three hours. I'm lucky that way."

The wolf whines a little and I answer him, "yes, this is lucky. I took some ibuprofen, so I'll be better in a bit. If I don't vomit."

He whimpers and starts to nudge my cheek with his nose.

"No," I snap. "Don't touch me." He starts to move away from me. "Don't move!" He freezes. "I can tell you're trying to not laugh. Thank goodness you know what a period is. Your papa and mom were thrown for a loop."

I turn, ever so slowly, to stare at his furry face. He's on his stomach, tail thumping lightly, one eye staring at me without blinking.

That eye turns green, and suddenly it's Conner who I'm looking at.

I squeeze my eyes shut. "Are you naked?"

"Bare-assed as the day I was born."

"How naked is that?" I mumble, feeling grumpy. I'm in Conner Grim's bed and he's naked and I'm too sick to enjoy it.

His hips gently nudge me.

"Put it away. Stop moving. Keep me warm."

"You're cute."

"I'm so glad that my unreasonable attitude amuses you."

"So much, Bailey," he says softly. His voice drops and becomes poignant and soothing, "I love the hell out of your attitude."

I go quiet. Even the thoughts inside my head cease for a split second. Conner told me he loves me... sort of.

"I have to tell you something," he whispers. "It's about Lydia... and Trey."

My warmth disappears. Every tiny hair on my body electrifies as if I'm standing in the middle of a lightning storm. Dread sits hollow in my stomach and sour on my tongue. "What is it?" I ask.

"Wolves have mates, Bails," he responds slowly. "Some time after we shift for the first time as teenagers we can sense our mate. We know who that person is as soon as we meet them through touch, smell, or sight."

My head spins. "Am I your mate?" I ask, knowing the answer.

He blows out a breath. "No, sweetheart."

That lump of dread thickens. I sit up carefully. He sits up with me, covering his junk with the edge of the blanket.

"Mates are?" I ask him.

"Mates are the wolf that is best suited to us. We typically have a 95% possibility of being together for life and a 98% possibility of having healthy pups."

"What are the odds of non-mates?" I ask him.

"Not great, but still equal to human pairings."

"So... fifty-fifty?"

"About," he says. He strokes my back gently, up and down. Now his heat feels like too much, as if he's crowding me.

Slowly I get up from the bed. He follows me, quickly grabbing a pair of boxer-briefs and tugging them on. I'm too upset to appreciate the sight of his near-naked body. The fact that I'm too upset to admire Conner Grim's gorgeousness is beyond annoying.

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