Page 112 of Feral

“We trust ya, lass,” Fraser said.

But did he really? Because while he might be willing to believe in my abilities as an agent of the Archive, when it came to being his mate, Fraser was still holding back from me. And I had no idea how to change that.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Daphne

Ididn’tseeFraserfor the rest of the day. Even though Gran had me busy helping her get the house ready for the Campbells in the morning, my mind was never far from how Fraser had distanced himself from me.

When I finally saw him at dinner, his entire body tensed as I came near.

“Fraser,” I said, my voice thick with unshed tears, “please, don’t push me away. Let me help you through this, whatever it is.”

His jaw tensed, hands clenching into tight fists over and over again.

“Dinner time ya two!” Gran called from the kitchen.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Fraser said.

The words caused frustration to bloom in my chest and now it was my turn to make fists with my hands.

“Will we? Or is that just your way of avoiding the conversation?”

Fraser didn’t answer. Instead he picked me up and nuzzled my throat, taking a big inhale.

“You smell like moonlight,” he purred, “and heather.”

The sudden change in his demeanor gave me emotional whiplash and I could only stare at him as he walked toward the dining room with me in his arms.

“Don’t toy with me,” I whispered to him.

Fraser stopped cold and I thought maybe I’d made him angry. But then his arms brought me closer, his tongue darted out against the mating mark and I gasped as my nipples tightened.

“Naw, lass. I’m not toying with ya. I’m having a hard time with the moon.”

“Tell me what you need.”

His long, hard exhale ruffled my hair.

“You, lass,” he admitted after a moment. “I need you.”

“You have me,” I pressed a palm to his cheek, smiling as he rubbed his face against my hand.

His rough tongue gave my inner wrist a hot lick that made my core clench, and goose pimples pop up on my arms. He made no promises, no response to what I’d said other than that. But as we sat down at the table, Fraser was much more relaxed. Though he did still insist on perching me on his lap and loading up my plate for me, growling at his brothers if they tried to do something for me.

“I sure hope ya calm down after moon time is done,” Lowell grumbled. “I’m not gonna take your mate away.”

Fraser bared his teeth at Lowell, who growled back.

“Enough you two,” Gran’s hard voice cut through the growing tension. “Save it for the sparring area after dinner. I’ll not have ya breaking another table.”

“How many have they broken?” I asked.

“Seven,” Liam said.

I choked on a sip of water and Fraser rubbed my back.

“You’ve broken seven tables?” I asked him.

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