“He could die,” I said. “It’s not like I can keep him, so what would—what would be the point of him risking everything for... what? A few more nights with me?”
Jill looked at me with so much pity I couldn’t stand it, like she wanted to tell me that a few more nights with me was worth all that risk, even though we both knew that was bullshit.
The best thing for Dakota would be to pull away and get to know himself and his people before he committed to half measures with me.
“It doesn’t matter,” I mumbled. “I’m not terminating his contract or sending him away.”
I was too damn selfish for that.
Maybe we really were what the mages thought, us werewolves. Clearly, I was being led around by the nose, instinct ruling over good sense or genuine kindness.
No, before I’d known Dakota was ignorant of the whole magical world, I’d just felt a thrill of victory at taking him home from the club. I wasn’t a leader; I was a beast.
And the worst thing I could do in the aftermath was punish him for it.
Truth was, whatever Dakota needed, if he’d ask it of me, I’d do my very best to give it to him.
Just the thought had my lips twitching toward a smile. “You know something they don’t talk about with mages?”
Jillian lifted her head. “What?”
“They can really eat. Their magic burns through them fast. I’ve never seen anybody put food away like Dakota.”
She snorted. “And you like that?”
A sound too like a purr rumbled in my chest. “Fuck yeah. It’s crazy, but my wolf loves it. Last night, he was on his sixth piece of pizza before he realized I was watching, and he smiled kind of—like, you know, like he was embarrassed? But my wolf was just so goddamn proud we’d provided for him. I don’t know.” I groaned, dropping my head against her arm when she came over to squeeze my shoulder. “He’d fit so well if it weren’t for?—”
“All the shit that makes him fit so well meaning you can’t actually keep him.”
I couldn’t say anything to that, just sigh.
I might be doomed, destined to get hurt, but for now at least, Dakota needed me. As long as that lasted, at least I could hold onto a piece of him.
17
Dakota
“No dear, just your mind,” Prudence said. She was correcting me, but she was smiling. I’d never been taught so... benignly before. Whenever I was wrong she simply said “no” and “let’s try again.” Never any annoyance, never any impatient sighs, never any snide comments about how maybe this wasn’t the skill for me.
On the contrary, she seemed to think I was catching on exceptionally quickly, because she said so at every turn.
She stalked across the room on her impressively high heels and slid gracefully into a velvet upholstered chair next to me, a smile on her face. “I know, it seems like there should be a physical component. All the books and movies say so, and... well, there just should, shouldn’t there?” She shook her head, almost as though it made her sad that it wasn’t the case. “But no. It’s all up here.” She tapped her temple. “And if you learn it with the motions, they become a crutch, and then you can’t do the magic without them.”
It made sense. I’d studied weeks for a calculus exam in high school with my music playing in the background, and then at the actual test, I’d been distracted by the fact that the testing room had been silent. So instead of questioning her, I tucked my hands under my thighs and tried again, focusing on the candle she’d set all the way across the room on a simple metal table.
Light the candle.
I envisioned a fire. The way it looked when one was dancing merrily away in a hearth or?—
There was a pop, and suddenly, the entire candle was ablaze, bits of flaming wax melting away and pooling on the table, still on fire, and the flames grew by the second.
I leapt to my feet, ready to rush across the room and throw my coat over the conflagration, but Prudence reached out and took one of my hands in hers, holding me steady. “With your mind, Dakota.”
I turned back to the fiery, waxy mess on the table and tried to focus. It was hard, with a pool of wax spreading, threatening to drip onto her expensive patterned rug, but her training was helping. Well, that and years of language training. You had to learn to hyper focus, to be able to quickly parse sentences that weren’t in your first language.
A second later, the fire didn’t even sputter out, it was simply gone, as though it’d never been. No drifting smoke or scent of fire on the air, just nothing at all.
I turned to apologize to Prudence, but she was smiling broadly as she turned to look at me. “Well done! So quick, too. I panicked the first time and almost managed to start a real fire, despite the metal table.”