Page 67 of Fight or Fly

Her faunlike brows drew together. “It means nothing for us, Alex. I’m sorry—but we were adolescents and we didn’t have the faintest idea what we were doing. I was in heat and I begged you to bite me, and in the heat of the moment, you did. You didn’t want a mate-bond any more than I did, once the hormones wore off.”

I stared at her, stunned.

She stared back, unblinking. “Look me in the eye and tell me you wanted me to get pregnant any more than I wanted tobepregnant. For god’s sake, Alex, that’s why we used contraceptives in the first place.”

“I would have protected those pups with my life!” I told her, appalled at her implication.

“That’s not the question I asked,” she replied evenly.

My mouth worked for a few seconds before words formed.

“I still don’t know what you expect to happen now,” I said, trying to drag the conversation onto some sort of footing I could control. If she would only tell me what I was supposed to do with this mate-bond that wasn’t... I could do it. I could takeaction, instead of this terrible uncertainty and guilt.

The look she gave me was very nearly pitying. “Alex, I don’t expect anything to happen now, except that you’ll be grieving for someone who’s alive rather than someone who’s dead.”

“Irina. I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Even I could hear the hint of desperation creeping into my voice.

“I’m with someone,” she said. “I’m in a relationship that makes me happy. He doesn’t make me feel as though my lack of a mating gland or a womb makes me somehow incomplete as a person. And...” She paused and glanced away, unable to meet my eyes. “... he isn’t a constant reminder of a past I would rather forget.”

I blinked at her, trying to force the sense of the words through a blank wall of incomprehension.

She wasn’t finished, though. “Don’t live in the past, Alex. You have a future waiting, too. You just have to reach out and take it.”

I tried to say something.Anything. I couldn’t. There was a great upswell of something ugly and putrid growing inside me, and I knew I couldn’t be in this room when it burst free. I rose from the chair without a word, unlocked the door, and left—ignoring the call of “Alex, wait—!” from behind me.

TWENTY-FIVE

Leo

WHEN IRINA HAD said‘more suitable accommodations,’ I’d mostly been hoping for something that didn’t involve heavy locks and security doors. I hadn’t expected the entire ground floor of the east wing in the spectacular main house.

We were shown to the rooms by someone I could only describe as a butler—a tall, stooped older man missing one arm and an eye. He gave us the guided tour, announcing the purpose of each room in a precise German accent. When we’d completed the trek through bedrooms, bathrooms, fully stocked kitchen, dining room, living room, and yes, a nest, he turned to face us, his tone and expression grave.

“I must ask you not to venture into the west wing. Chairman Nikolayev is currently sequestered there with his mate, and he does not wish to be disturbed.”

“We understand,” I said, equally gravely. “We have no wish to interrupt our host and his mate during this private time.”

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