Page 76 of The Enemy to the Living
“Yeah, okay.”
“Make sure you’re with us tomorrow night.”
“I will be.”
I hang up and drop my phone back on the bedside table, then settle in next to Quinn again. He blinks awake a few seconds later, though I think maybe he wasn’t asleep for half of the conversation.
“Am I causing trouble, being here?” he murmurs.
“No. Of course not, no.” I stroke my fingers gently down the side of his face. “Are you feeling any better?”
He blinks again slowly. The smile that crosses his face is small, but it grows the more I look at him, so sweet that my chest aches. “Yeah, I am.”
“Good.” I want to kiss him again, but I don’t. It’s not all about that. Quinn seems to agree. He tucks himself up against me again—we’re practically the same size, but it works—and runs his fingers over my tattoos.
There’s one spot still conspicuously free on my chest. It’s right where a mating bond would go, if I’d ever had one. Iris has something designed. I passed on drawings from an artist I used before her, and from one I used before that.
We’ve yet to put ink to skin, though. It’s been centuries, and I’m still not ready.
“What’s going to go here?” Quinn asks. The words are hardly louder than a breath.
I catch his hand and bring it up to my mouth, then press my lips gently to the tip of each finger. Quinn’s breath hitches.
“My wolf,” I say against his palm. His fingers jerk for a second before they relax.
“When are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know. When I’m ready. I’m not ready yet.”
Quinn hums. He presses his face to my throat and kisses the base of it. “Okay.”
“Some wounds take a long time to heal. You know that, don’t you? You can go at your own pace.”
“Yeah,” Quinn says, voice sounding a little thicker. “I know.”
We fall silent for a while, not sleeping, not ready to get up and move around. I’m comfortable here, warm and safe, and though the rest of the Hunt might be the closest allies I’ve had since I lost my wolf, I’ve not feltpacklike this since then.
I can get there with them. With Grant and Paxton, for sure. With Maurice too, though I imagine that will be like putting a cat amongst the wolves. The others are softened by the rest of them.
It’s not a bad thing. We all know it’s notbad. Things are changing, and we’re all changing with them.
The buzz of Quinn’s phone is what startles us both this time. He goes tense in my arms, then pushes up so, for a second, all I’m staring at are the smooth planes of his chest. I clear my throat, and he flushes, then rolls to snatch up his phone.
Whatever the message, his face pales, and I fight the urge to take his phone from him and look. “Is it your pack?” I ask.
“No.”
The twins, then. Another fight? I clench my jaw, irritated beyond belief that I didn’t figure things out earlier. I have no idea what exactly Quinn has to do to keep up his end of whatever bargain they’ve struck, and now I’m not sure I ever will know.
“I have to go,” he says and makes sure the screen is dark on his phone before he sets it aside. “Can I come and see you tonight?”
A sudden eagerness enters his voice, and the way his body turns towards mine. I sit up, moving close enough that we share our next breath. “Yes, of course.”
His smile returns. It’s dimmed, compared to before, but it’s there all the same. Quinn nudges his nose against mine, then kisses me again. His lips linger, tongue darting out to taste, and he presses forward with an intent that hasn’t been present so far.
“I’ll wait for you outside the pub?”
“No, I’ll meet you here,” Quinn says and licks his lips. His eyes darken. “We’ll stay here.”
