There’s just one problem I can’t ignore because of my anger for Daryl or the deep loneliness in my chest.
“I’m not sure I could do anything sexual with you,” I admit. “Gray wolf shifters usually can’t cheat. Our bodies reject anyone but our mates.”
As the old saying goes, the only person a gray wolf shifter can fuck is the one they don’t want. Who knows how many gray wolf pups have been conceived with good, old-fashioned hate sex. I think I was made that way.
“Isn’t it a scent thing?” Silver asks.
I nod.
“You don’t seem to mind my scent.”
My cheeks burn hot. “Right. We aren’t bothered by the scent of the alphas in our pack. And I… showed you my wolf form.”
If Daryl knew I’d given that part of myself to another alpha, he would have been furious and justifiably so. But I don’t regret it. Those moments when I cuddled with Silver in my wolf form were the happiest of my life. Even sex didn’t compare to how special I felt when he rested the snout of his raccoon on my fur and sighed contentedly.
Silver had sex with a lot of omegas before we got together, but he only shared his raccoon with me.
“So, what you’re saying is that my scent isn’t a problem, but kissing or sex might be?” he asks.
“Yeah. I don’t know how my body will react.”
He drags a hand through his short, silver hair. “Okay. Would you want to try it out? No pressure or anything, but we could kiss, just to see what happens.”
I look down at my dirty, torn shirt and huge belly. How can he want me like this? Is he claiming that he does to make me feel better?
“What if I just touched your lips?” he asks. “That’s kind of like kissing, right?”
“Okay,” I say.
I hold my breath as he lifts his hand to my face. He gently ghosts his thumb along my bottom lip. My skin sparks under his touch.
“How’s that?” he whispers.
“Good,” I mutter. It’s such an inadequate response. My body feels more alive than I have in years.
“Could I kiss you?” Silver asks.
“Yes.”
He leans in and presses his lips to mine. I inhale sharply, shocked by the electricity between us. I’d forgotten that kissing could be like this. My heart races and a long-forgotten heat coils between my legs.
He pulls back suddenly, searching my face. “Was that okay?”
“Yes.”
“Do you feel nauseous? Uncomfortable?”
I shake my head.
A wide smile spreads across his lips. “Does that mean we can do this? Will you be mine for a month, Lucas?”
I place my hand on my swollen belly. In three months’ time, I’ll have pups to care for. I should be focusing on finding a job and getting my finances in order, not getting distracted by Silver. But it’s been so long since I felt alive.
Maybe this is what real happiness looks like—not a long-lasting, steady thing, but a brief jolt of joy you have to cling to before it’s gone.
“Okay,” I agree.
7