Page 91 of Mate
“Aw. Thank you. Anything else I’m allowed to do,Alpha?”
His hand comes up to snatch my chin. “You could be fucking good, for once.”
“I can try?” I smile. My lower lip pushes against his thumb. “Why didn’t you tell me immediately that you suspect that I might be a child of the cult?”
Slowly, keeping his eyes on my mouth, he lets go of me.
“Let me guess: because you didn’t want to needlessly upset me in case it didn’t turn out to be true.” I sprawl against the backrest. “Withholding information to avoid hurting people. Reminds me of somethingsomeonewas recently criticized for doing— ”
His palm slides to my neck. Tightens in a threatening curve at my nape.
I laugh, unfazed. “It’s okay, Koen. I forgive you.”
“Aw. Thank you,” he says, parroting me. But his expression is somber. “Remember your interview? Those people outside of the studio?”
“Not really. What— ” I gasp. “The man with thesign. Yelling something about . . . reborn flesh?”
He nods. “His talking points hit a little too close. I asked Amanda to track him, but it was Human territory, in the middle of a crowd. She couldn’t shift and she lost him.”
“I see. How many children were there in the cult?”
Koen presses his lips together, clearly worried, and my entire body hurts with how much I care for him. I would give a year of my life, a year I don’t even have, to press a kiss against the corner of his lips. Lower, where the stubble is quickly regrowing. I would do illegal, maybe even unethical things, in exchange for the right to bury my nose in the crook of his throat, where the scent of him is densest. “Several. A handful were Weres, and they were taken in by Northwest families. But Humans reproduce more easily, and over two dozen minors survived the cult. We partnered with Human services, kept tabs as much as we could, but we didn’t have access to their records.”
That’s how it went, then. Dozens of orphans, just like me. I wonder iftheykept their memories. If we used to be friends. Where are they now?
This is too much. I can’t process it, not tonight. “I should go to sleep,” I say.
“Okay. Which room?”
“Um, mine?”
“Okay. We’ll sleep there.”
“We?”
“We.”
My eyebrow lifts. “Uh- oh. Celibacy Threat Alert.”
His look withers me, and every garden on the continent. “I’m going to stay in human form and monitor your temperature. We’ll catch your fevers early, and they won’t get as bad as they did last night.”
I open my mouth to say,I don’t want to put you out. I can take care of myself. It’s fine.
But maybe it’s not. Maybe I can take care of myself, but I don’t mind some help. Maybe he wants to be put out.
Maybe this is equally for himandfor me.
So what I settle on is “Thank you.” I let my head roll back on the cushion. Meet his shoulder. Don’t bother hiding the way I’m burying my nose in the soft, worn flannel. He doesn’t mind:I can practically taste his satisfaction and relief at not having to fight me on this. It’s a sweet, joyful flavor against the roof of my mouth. “You know, your room might be better.”
“Why?”
“Comfier bed. Tub.” I blink a few times. Leave my eyes closed. “Smells like you.”
He grumbles something low that I can’t make out. Before I can ask him to repeat himself, I’m already sound asleep.
CHAPTER 23
Well, fuck.
