Page 143 of Mate
He remains silent. No words— just the rasp of his breathing, his parted lips, and everything left unsaid trapped behind them. But it’s good, the quiet. It gives me a chance to say the one thing I’ve been holding back. To lean over and whisper in his ear, “I love you. And I’m never going to stop, no matter what.”
I come again, and he comes, too, knot swelling, the pleasure sharper than a knife, slicing right through us. Irreparable damage that doesn’t hurt enough. Koen’s grip notches against me, leaving marks the size of his fingers in my flesh. He is a sting of wordless noises and unseeing eyes, wide with something I cannot comprehend.
He never says that he loves me, but it’s written all over my skin.
CHAPTER 35
His duties, the one to his pack and the one to his mate, should be tearing him in two. And yet he has never felt more intact than he does right now.
THE FIRST THING AMANDA TELLS ME IN THE LATE AFTERNOON, when I emerge from Koen’s empty cabin, is a firm “Don’t.”
“Hello to you, too.” I bend down to pet Twinkles, laughing at the enthusiastic wag of his tail. “Don’t . . . ?”
“Dwell on the intrusive thought that everyone knows the nasty shit you and Koen have been doing to each other for the past few days.”
I stop dead. “I wasn’t going to.” Until now.
“Good. Keep it that way. Koen’s inner circle is very happy that Mommy and Daddy got it on.”
I have so many questions about that, I decide to ask none. I take a resigned seat on the porch, enjoying the way Twinkles curls up against me, the breeze caressing my skin.
I wantmoreof this. I want to explore the cliffs and the shores as a wolf. I want to go for a run. My cells itch for it.
“Are you . . .” Amanda eyes me, circumspect. “All intact? I know Heats can be, um, tempestuous situations. He didn’t . . . ?”
“Mommy did not hurt Daddy. Or vice versa,” I say dryly. “What about you? How was it, being substitute Alpha?”
She groans. “Not much happened. The worst of it was a dispute between a twelve-year-old who kept kicking his soccer ball in his neighbors’ yard, and the elderly curmudgeon whodecided to burn it. The parents intervened, then the entire village, and it got blownwayout of proportion.”
“Exciting. Who did you side with?”
“That’s the thing of being Alpha— you don’tside. You mediate. You fix. You have the authority to make people stop doing stupid shit, but it takes a while to cement that. Koen? He snaps his fingers, calls everyone a cumbucket, and everything runs smoothly. Me? Pack members push back. They whine. They need to be cajoled, and I’m not cut out for it. Jorma can take over, if he wants.”
“Fascinating.” At the very least, this explains Koen’s utter bewilderment when things dare to not go his way. “Anything else? Are Nele and the Humans okay?”
“They are. Nele said she’d love to talk soon.”
“Cool. Maybe I could— ” A sharp thwack interrupts me. I tense. Track Twinkles with my eyes as he runs behind the cabin to investigate.
“Oh, it’s just Koen. He went for a run and now he’s chopping wood.”
My heart flickers. “Thought he was gone.” I rise to my feet, flushing at how unceremoniously I’m ditching Amanda. “Is it okay if I . . . go say hi to him?” Her smirk is so knowing, I stop feeling bad for her.
Koen’s right there, by the shop, and it all mushes together for me— the strain on his thick muscles as he swings the ax; the scent of pines; the sheen of sweat on his shirtless chest, trickling into the waistband of his jeans. He’s breathing hard but doesn’t stop to take a break.
I observe him for a while, wondering whether it’s normal, feeling— feelingso muchabout a single person. Surely, it’s unfair. Surely, a love this deep should be reserved for the universe as a whole. But what if, to me, he’s the linchpin? What if he’s the stitch that keeps it all together?
Is this what finding a mate feels like? Is it possible that—
“Everything okay?” he asks without looking my way.
My heart trips all over itself. “Yeah.” Deep breath. Good. “So, youdochop wood.”
He turns, mouth twitching. “Occasionally. This is for the Humans.” He shifts his grip on the ax, lodges it in the splitting block in a single smooth movement, and stands there, arms at his sides.
What would he do if I went to hug him? I picture his hand, coming up to cradle my head. His heartbeat under my cheek. The enveloping quality of being in his presence. It’s all sovivid.
But I can’t. There were conditions. We signed off on them.
