Page 74 of Black Moon

Ugh, I hated that he could say a single word and stare ahead confusingly. As always, I had absolutely no grace about the whole thing.

“And, like, I don’t even have aplacehere, you know?”

That shook him out of his mulling enough for him to scowl over at me again. “You do. Everyone loves you. You came in and saved Brook. The pack’s taken in wolves for a lot less than that.”

“I guess.” I sighed, swinging my foot out, as listless as he’d been a few moments before.

Let no one say I wasn’t petty.

“Would you want a place here? To stay, I mean.”

He’d wandered to another stop on the sidewalk. We were only a block or two from Grove House, but the night was temperate enough for Linden to wear a sweater vest with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. I took a few more steps, sighed, and turned back to him.

“I don’t know. Maybe? I think what you’re doing here’s important. And hell, I want to see a pack with an omega second—I want theworldto see that succeed.” I stepped toward him, running my fingertips down the soft stitches of his sweater. “But I don’t know if I can stay. It’d make things too complicated.”

Linden’s scowl got heavier. “Complicated how?”

And there it was, finally—with Linden, that alpha demand, the edge of annoyance, was subtle. Still, it was nice to know he wasn’t perfectly reserved all the time, at least when it came to keeping me around.

“Well, my life’s not exactly low profile. No way I’ll get out of my father’s galas and fundraisers and campaigning forever. And I could drag attention here you don’t want.”

“You’re already writing about us. How much more attention could you bring down?”

I rocked forward, slipping my hand into his at the same time. “I don’t know. Say...Dad has some policy I don’t agree with. Pundits show up and ask me to speak out on it, break ranks. Or they might want to know you. Right before I came here, Dad was taking credit for a fundraiser Mom organized for the Condition. I don’t want him taking credit for your work, or my connection to you. Or—Linden, it’s just not simple. Your life should be easy.”

His cheeks hollowed, his golden stubble catching light from a streetlamp.

“So because you’re worried about how your father will react, you won’t make your own choices?”

I flinched back. “I make my own choices every damn day. And one of those is that I’m not going to be a tool for him to use.” I tugged my hand out of his grip and crossed my arms. “You either, frankly. If you’re going to be alpha of this pack, you’ll need a mate. Someone who, you know, bakes pies and shit.”

“Rowan bakes pies,” Linden ground out. “I don’t need any more pies.”

“You know what I mean. Someone nice. Someone everyone likes.”

“Everyone here likes you!” He spread out his hands, and there we were, two men arguing on the sidewalk like children.

I glared at him. “Just trust me, okay? I’m not a very good omega.”

Linden scoffed, dropping his arms by his sides again. “And I’m not a very good alpha, according to some, including my own father. But you seem to like me.”

“You’re not hard to like.”

His lips tilted with the smallest hint of a smirk. “Neither are you.”

All the sudden, he was right in front of me. His fingers twisted in my hair and pulled my head back. His mouth hovered just over mine, and I whined, because damn it, I wanted him to kiss me.

“I want you to stay,” he said, close enough his breath warmed my mouth. “I’m not asking you to be my mate right now or bake me pies or anything, but stay.”

My breath caught. I searched his face for even a hint of indecision.

There wasn’t one.

But I didn’t make my decision fast enough to satisfy him, and he seemed to know how effectively his tongue would make the case for him. His lips slanted over mine, his tongue worked past to tease me, run over the edge of my teeth.

“Stay,” he pressed again.

And, well, fuck it. I couldn’t think, and there wasn’t enough air, and now we were making out on the sidewalk like teenagers. Seemed we were going to run the whole gamut that night.

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