Page 145 of Mate
He holds back a smile. “Guess from now on, you’re going to have to be people.”
“No. You’ll step down, and then what? Run away with me? Be my deadbeat boyfriend? We’re gonna live in the woods, argue over what to have for dinner, and— ” I close my eyes and press the back of my hand to my lips. I’m in physical pain. Because . . .
“Sounds that good, huh?” he asks knowingly.
And yes. Yes, it fucking does. But.
We need him, Layla said. Amanda. Brenna. Dozens, countless people. Even Irene.
My eyes lock with his, willing him to understand. “You are the heart of this pack, Koen.”
He nods. Even as he says, “And you are mine, Serena.”
This is unthinkable. “If you leave for me, and anything happens to the Northwest . . . I’m going to hate myself for the rest of my life. Your life.Ourlife.”
That besotted half smile, again. “That was a ‘we.’?”
“It wasn’t.” I steady myself. “Just a few days ago you listed several reasons why you had to choose the pack over me. What changed?”
He roams the inside of his mouth with his tongue. Waits out the end of a particularly strong gust of breeze. “You told me that you loved me, Serena,” he says simply. His eyes are earnest, liquid. So profoundlygood. “And while I’m willing to resignmyself to an existence without the person I love, I refuse to condemn you to it.”
I square my shoulders.Don’t cry. Don’t you fucking dare cry.“It was very good sex, and I— I made it up, Koen. In the heat of the moment.”
His eyes are compassionate. “I read your letter.”
“My . . . ?”
“The one on your desk. With my name on it. It changes everything, Serena.”
The letter I wrote for him to read after I died. I shut my eyes tight, trying to block the memories of what’s in it.
I feel close to you. So much so, sometimes I wonder if fate really does exist.
When you’re around, the universe feels more bearable.
This mate business— does it feel like I have you in my palm? Like we’re tethered to each other? Like I changed you at the nuclear level? Asking for a friend.
No. None of this matters. I know Koen: if he were to step down, over time he would grow to hate himself. Andme. “Do you have clear memories,” I ask calmly, “of my Heat?”
His eyebrow lifts. “They’ll be what I last see before I die.”
“Good. Then you will remember that I asked you to bite me. Several times.”
His throat works.
“And you didn’t. I begged you, and you didn’t.”
“Ask me now, and I’ll do it. I’ll do itright here— ”
“Why didn’t youthen?”
There is a tic in his jaw. “Because you weren’t in the position to make the choice.”
“You’re right. I wasn’t. Would you say that I am in the position now?” His shoulders tense. He knows where I’m going with this. “I’m lucid. Clearheaded. I’m making a choice, which is to let you know that if you step down, it will be for nothing. I will not stay with you.” My chin trembles. I power through. “So don’t bother— ”
“Serena.”
“— doing that, because it’s not going to— ”
