Page 42 of The Strongest Wolf

It feels like even the wind stops blowing. As if the world were holding its breath the way I am.

Eden’s soft gasp cuts through the silence. In pain or pleasure, I don’t know.

Luka’s arms go around Eden, drawing her tighter against his body as she slides her hands up his back and leans into him.

At that moment, it’s like they’re the only two people in the world.

The thought of one day having Galen wrap his arms around me and bite me like that is so overwhelming that I’m desperate to tilt my head up so I can read his expression.

Is he thinking about biting me?

What if he asks us to be mates tonight? What do I say?

His arm tightens around me just enough that I know he’s trying to get my attention, but I don’t look away from Eden and Luka. Not once.

Luka lifts his head. I can’t see the bite on Eden’s neck from here, but I know there will be one, since he would have needed to bite her hard enough to have broken skin. It will heal quickly, but just like the bite her abusive dead mate left her with, any shifter who saw the faint imprints on her neck will know she’s mated.

What if Galen bites me, and afterward, he realizes that he can’t be with a submissive wolf at all?

My wolf stirs, and I know it’s because she’s feeling the anxiety whipping through me. How could she not?

“Little wolf,” Galen whispers in my ear.

But I can’t look at him. I can’t even speak through the fear rising inside me that he won’t want me anymore.

When Luka and Eden break apart, and the rest of the Blackshaws surge forward to hug and congratulate them, I slip out of Galen’s grasp and follow, conscious he’s just a step behind me.

Galen doesn’t try to catch my attention as I hug Eden and then Luka. With the mass of bodies all around us, it’s easy to pretend he isn’t there, waiting for an opportunity to make me talk about something I don’t want to even think about.

But when all conversation turns toward the run, I smile, duck my head, and slip away, aiming for the cabin. If I’d been smarter, I’d have thought to volunteer to stay with the sleeping twins back at the packhouse. By the time I’d realized that would be my only way out of this run, it was too late. Marshall and Jenna had already agreed.

In the back of my head, I knew I wouldn’t get far.

And I don’t.

The moment I’ve stepped into the forest, firm hands grasp me by my hips and propel me until we reach a tree. When we have, Galen turns and presses my back against it before stepping so close that I’m pinned against the tree.

“You’re going to give me a complex,” he murmurs.

I dart a glance up at his face, his emerald stare flashing brightly in the night. “About?”

“That I’m doing this wrong.”

My gaze settles on his white t-shirt-covered chest. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Sierra.” He slides an arm around my back and tugs me so my forehead is resting against his chest. “There’s no time limit or end goal here. There’s no race to get somewhere.”

I don’t have to guess where that somewhere is: us as mates.

“That sounds like one of those cheesy slogans about the goal being the journey, not the destination,” I say against his chest, absorbing the warmth of his body as I wrap my arms around his hips.

“They have a good point. I intend to enjoy the journey,” he murmurs.

“What happens on this journey?” I ask.

“Well.” He kisses my hair. “We get to know each other a little more. Maybe we spend more time in bed.”

I smile at the husky note in his voice. “You mean more than we do already?”

---