Page 36 of Fetch Me A Mate
"Then I run. Like before."
"Leaving her behind?"
Rowan's wolf recoiled at the idea, claws scraping against his ribs in protest. Leave their mate? Abandon their claim?
"If that's what it takes to keep her safe."
"And if she doesn't want to be kept safe? If she wants to fight beside you?"
"She's human, Maeve. This isn't her fight."
"It is if they make it her fight. And from the way you're acting, they already have."
Rowan stared into his whiskey, seeing Diana's face in the amber liquid. Her smile when she'd pinned on Miriam's locket. Her determination to make the inn perfect for tomorrow's gathering. Her growing suspicion that he was hiding something dangerous.
"She deserves better than getting caught in my mess," he said quietly.
"Maybe. But she's already caught, isn't she?" Maeve's tone gentled slightly. "Question is whether you trust her enough to let her make her own choices about it."
Before Rowan could respond, footsteps sounded from the tavern's back entrance. Heavy boots on wooden floors, moving with the confidence of someone who belonged everywhere they went.
He knew that gait, that particular rhythm of predator trying to look civilized.
"Don't turn around," he told Maeve quietly. "Keep pouring. Act normal."
"How normal is normal when there's a strange wolf in my bar?" Maeve's hand drifted toward the baseball bat she kept behind the register.
"Normal enough that he doesn't think we're planning anything."
The footsteps stopped directly behind Rowan's chair. A familiar scent wrapped around him like a noose—pine forest and old dominance, pack hierarchy made manifest in pheromones.
"Hello, brother."
Rowan didn't turn around. "Kael."
"Been a long time." Kael's voice carried the same smooth authority it always had, beta to the bone. "You look good. Domestic life suits you."
"What do you want?"
"Just delivering a message." Kael moved to stand beside the bar, positioning himself where Rowan had to look at him. Tall and lean like all the pack's enforcers, dark hair perfectly styled, eyes the color of winter ice. "Alpha wants to see you."
"Alpha can want a lot of things."
"This isn't a request, Rowan." Kael's smile was sharp as broken glass. "You know how this works."
"I know how it used to work." Rowan finally turned to face him fully, letting his own wolf rise close enough to the top that his eyes flashed silver. "Things change."
"Some things. Others..." Kael shrugged, the gesture deceptively casual. "Pack bonds are forever. Blood calls to blood. You can't outrun what you are."
"Watch me."
Kael's laugh was soft, dangerous. "Oh, I intend to. We all do." His gaze flicked toward the tavern's front windows, toward the square beyond. "Lovely little town. Quiet. Peaceful. The kind of place where everyone knows everyone else's business."
The threat was subtle but unmistakable. Rowan's wolf snarled, pushing against his control.
"Leave them out of this."
"Them?" Kael's eyebrows rose in mock surprise. "Who said anything about them? I'm just appreciating the local scenery. That inn, for instance. Beautiful old building. Lot of history there. Be a shame if something happened to... tarnish its reputation."
