Page 52 of Mate
“You catch up quickly. Come on.”
There’s a decent amount of foot traffic: shoppers, children playing on swings, and, of course, several Weres in wolf form. They lounge under trees, perch on branches, lie next to the statue of a book in front of a local library. They acknowledge their Alpha and then study me with a sleepy, lazy sort of curiosity.
“Hi.” I wave my hand in the direction of a group huddling in a nearby pocket park. They blink in response. I instinctively recognize it as a friendly greeting.
I guess standing next to their Alpha goes a long way.
“Should I go introduce myself?” I whisper at Koen. “Is that part of the hybrid parade?”
He snorts. His palm finds the middle of my back and pushes me toward a sidewalk.
“Wouldn’t it be the polite thing to do?” I truly don’t know. When I was with the Southwest, I didn’t exactly socialize. I holed myself up in Misery’s house, let Ana braid and unbraid my hair upwards of forty times a day, and retreated into my room whenever someone new would visit.
“Killer, you’re proof of concept that Humans and Weres can fuck—fruitfullyso. Not only are you the most recognizable face on the continent, but there’ll be a photo of you in every time capsule shot into space for the coming century. You’re good without introductions for the next couple of years.” He opens a door and signals for me to go ahead. “Come on. Let’s get you some clothes.”
I do need them, considering the rate at which I’m stealing his. But. “Do you know how I can access my bank?”
His hand slides up, between my shoulder blades, and guides me inside. He doesn’t reply.
“I do have some money,” I insist.
“You do? No need to flex, Serena.”
“I mean, I just need to— ”
“This conversation is very tedious.” He sounds distracted as he glances around.
“Well, prepare to be tedioused even more. You’re not going to pay for my stuff. It’s infantilizing.”
His dark eyes travel down my body.Slowly.“As if I could ever dothat,” he drawls.
My cheeks burst into flames. The rest of me, too. His gaze doesn’t let go of me. I’m about to blurt out something supremely stupid, when: “Koen, you’re early! A first.”
Our heads whip around as the most elegant man to ever walk this wretched globe emerges from the back. I admire his wing tips, the perfect tan of his skin, the bounce of his gravity-defying tawny forelock. I used to be handy with a can of hair spray, back when I had a job that required personal hygiene, but boy, do I have a lot to learn from this dude.
The two men exchange one of those almost-hug handshakes. “Serena, this is Carter. Carter, Serena, who we won’t bother pretending requires introductions, needs something to wear that fits her.”
“Does she?” He gives me the once-over. Purses his chiseled mouth. “She seems to like your flannel.”
Koen’s grunt is unintelligible. I attempt a smile, but it comes out tense— which he notices. “You’re not afraid, are you.”
It’s not really a question, and I decide to be truthful. “Just intimidated by how sophisticated Carter looks.” It doesn’t help that my pants are Koen’s sweats rolled up about five times, giving me an exquisitetoddler wearing life buoy at the poolje ne sais quoi.
“You can handle it,” Koen says. His hand slides under the collar of my flannel, between the layers of fabric that rest on my neck. All heat, no skin- to- skin contact. He squeezes me with something that could be reassurance, or a threat of strangulation. “Since you’ve had so much exposure to my good looks.”
Carter and I burst out laughing, then stop when we notice Koen’s narrow-eyed stare.
“Absolutely,” Carter says, recovering faster. “It’s a valid narrative choice. The scruff, I mean.” He scans Koen like he’s a vision board. “The story I’m picking up is that you areresourceful enough to survive forty days and forty nights in the desert by sucking the moisture out of a prickly pear. If it isn’t what you’re going for—onlyif it isn’t, may I recommend a haircut and a shave?”
“Don’t criticize my looks. It hurts my feelings.”
“Your what?” I ask.
Koen gives me a deadpan look.
“We just want what’s best for you,” I explain.
Carter nods. “And what’s best forus. The Alpha is the face of the pack. And right now, we’re looking pretty . . .”
