Mate (Bride, #2) (115)

“The business with the Vampyres . . . is it over?”

“Owen cleaned up the council,” he says evenly. “There no longer is a bounty on you and Ana.”

“Good. Yeah, I . . . Good. In that case . . .” Why am I having to remind myself that this is precisely what I wanted? “I no longer have my phone, because of the . . . Can I borrow yours? I need to get in touch with Nele and

. . . and Misery. We need to figure out . . . well.” My turn to smile. Koen’s mouth tightens. “Everything.”

He nods, like yes, of course, he’s going to hand me his phone. But says,

“C’mere, killer.”

I hang back, unsure.

“Serena. Come.”

This time I go. Stop a foot away from him. Pretend his scent doesn’t feel like home, like a blanket, like he’s holding me already, and that my heart doesn’t drop into my stomach as he says, “I’m going to step down.”

I ask, “From what?” But I already know, so I don’t give him time to answer. “Why?” Regrettably, I already know that, too. That only leaves me with “You can’t.”

“See, that’s the thing about being Alpha. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“Are you— Please tell me you are joking.”

“While I’m widely known for my prankster personality and comedic timing, no. I’m not joking. Not about this.”

“You . . . We talked about this.” I sound shrill. “The pack is too important to you. And you are necessary to the pack.”

“Things have changed.”

“Things— nothing has changed. You love the Northwest more than anything.”

“Not more than anything, Serena.”

His words are like a rock in my gut, sinking further by the second. I’m surprised I’m still upright. “You can’t,” I whisper. “You don’t have a successor picked out.”

“I’ll wait until the situation with Irene is resolved,” he says, like he has a plan. “Then one of my seconds will take over.”

“Who?”

“Amanda is the most— ”

“Amanda doesn’t want to be Alpha. And she’s not established like you

— people would challenge her.”

“She can win any challenge.”

“All of them? Are you sure? Because it would only take one loss, and she’d be dead. And even if she does win, what about Saul? They’re off now, but who knows when they’ll be on again?”

His lips flatten. “Whoever takes over, it wouldn’t have to be permanent.

And we will stick around. I can act as an advisor for a while.”

“We?” I sound frantic. “We’re not— Don’t say ‘we.’ ”

“It doesn’t have to be Amanda. There are several dominant Weres in the pack. Most are young, but they could take over in a couple of years, and I would trust them to— ”

“Koen, no. You actually like being Alpha. You live to order people around.”

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.

Our life.”

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 profoundly good. “And

while I’m willing to resign myself 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.