“Do Weres...” My voice is raspy from swallowing my moans. I clear my throat and hear myself ask, “Do Weres always knot?”
He lets out a shuddering breath. “Don’t move.” He presses a kiss against my cheekbone. “I’m going to clean you up. Where do you keep—”
“Don’t leave.” I turn around to look at him, and he looks—ravaged. Vulnerable. Happy. My shirt slips down, but this is my apartment. I have nothing but changes of clothes. “Can you answer my question first?”
He shakes his head. “We don’t.” But then adds: “It’s complicated.”
I don’t think it’s complicated. In fact, I suspect it might be very simple. “Explain it to me, please.”
“It’s a sign of... It only happens between certain people.” My shirt is completely askew, and he trails kisses on the jutting bone of my shoulder, getting lost in the act before straightening my neckline. He inhales deeply. “On second thought, I’m not going to clean you up. I’ll just leave you like this.” His hand snakes around my waist. To my lower back, where I’m sticky and wet. “Send a clear message to anyone who smells you. Who you belong to.”
“Had it ever happened to you before?”
He’s smearing his come into my skin with his thumb, and why am I okay with this? “Before?”
“Before me. Knotting. Did it ever happen with anyone else?”
His eyes darken. “Misery—”
“I’m just starting to put things together, you know?” We’re still buzzing from the pleasure, and it’s unfair of me to press him right now, when our defenses are lowered and we’re full of the wrong kind of hormones, but... Justbut. “I think it was there for me to see all along. But you threw me off on purpose, didn’t you? There was your reaction to my scent when we first met, and it was so extreme, I assumed that you didn’t like it. How adamant you were about not having me around.” I swallow. “I would have realized it sooner, if I hadn’t taken for granted that it had to be another Were. It made so much sense that Gabi would be the one. In the end, though, it was all about getting to know you. Because now that I understand what kind of person you are, I cannot help but wonder: If Lowe were in love with someone else, would he be like this with me? And I can’t picture a reality, or even a damn simulation, in which that would be the case.” I let out a short laugh.
Lowe says nothing. He stares, impenetrable. His pale, decent, kind eyes retreat into something that offers no clarity.
“It happens between mates, right? Knotting, I mean.” Biologically, it makes sense in so many ways. Honestly, nothing else does. “It’s me, isn’t it?” I attempt a wobbly smile.It’s okay. I know it. I feel it, too.“I’m your mate. That’s why...”
“Misery.” He’s not looking at me, but at some spot around my feet. And his tone is like I’ve never heard it before: Unreadable. Empty.
“That’s why, right?”
He’s silent for heavy seconds. “Misery.” My name, again, but this time there’s a world of hurt behind the word, like I’m torturing him.
“I’m not... I feel the same way you do,” I add quickly, not wanting him to think that I’m accusing him of something beyond his control. “Or maybe not—maybe I don’t have the hardware. Maybe only another Were could feel the same. But I really do like you. More than that. I haven’t quite figured it all out, because I don’t have much experience with feelings. But maybe you think that this frightens the shit out of me, and...” My voice weakens, because Lowe has lifted his gaze, and I can see the way he’s looking at me.
He understands, I think.He knows.He feels exactly the way I do.
But then his expression shutters. And his tone can only be described as compassionate. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever given you the wrong impression about what is happening between us.”
My assurance wobbles, when I was secure in his feelings for me till a moment ago. I shake my head. “Lowe, come on. I know Gabi isn’t your mate.”
“She isn’t.” He presses his lips together. “But I’m afraid you reached the wrong conclusions.”
“Lowe.”
He shakes his head slowly. “I’m sorry, Misery.”
“Lowe, it’s fine. You can—”
“We should stop discussing this now.”
“No.” I let out a laugh. “I’m right. I know that I’m right.”
There is something about the way he stares at me. Like he knows he’s about to hurt me, and himself in the process, and the thought is simply unacceptable. Like I’m leaving him no choice.
“You said that a mate grabs you by the stomach, and—”
“Misery.” He speaks harshly this time, like he’s scolding a child. “You should stop filling your mouth with Were words you cannot understand.”
My throat falls into my stomach. “Lowe.”