We reach my Jeep and Fallon’s waiting, leaning against the door, keys dangling. He grins. “There’s not enough room, Alpha. Can I get the keys to the Mustang and take the others?”
The others? I finally notice Annie, Mari, and Kennedy close behind us. Tye, too, his eyes flashing silver.
“I don’t think so, pup.” Tye puffs his chest.
Fallon’s wolf yips. Not big enough to growl, not smart enough to keep his muzzle shut. Tye’s wolf responds with a snarl.
These assholes are not ruining my night. I don’t know what’s going on, or what kind of mismatched pissing contest this is, but I do know we own vans.
“All of y’all go together. You can go in the Windstar, or you can take the Astro.” I gesture at our two fine, working tributes to the 90s. Liam is a truly talented mechanic.
I don’t waste time listening to them groan. I open the Jeep’s passenger door and lift Una in. Her smell is sharper than it was in the lodge. It’s a stimulant. I drag it in with the night air, and my muscles tingle.
We’re riding with the top down, or I’m not gonna make it all the way to Chapel Bell.
The moon is waning, and it hangs above the tree line like a giant glowing hook, set off by the last golden orange streaks of sunset.
Una lifts her face to the night sky. Her braid hangs down her back, thick and inviting. I grab it. She doesn’t startle. She glances over at me, lips curving, and then she closes her eyes again, letting the cool wind bathe her face.
There’s a fire raging inside me, a longing that crackles like embers.
She is the one. Fate saved her for me. To be mine alone. The reward for all the sacrifice, all the cracking of thick skulls and sleepless nights worrying over shit that seemed impossible to change.
Tonight, I get to know what it feels like to sink deep into my mate and seed her belly so she belongs to me like I already belong to her.
I don’t want fucking ice cream.
I want to pull over onto the shoulder. I want her to flee again, and this time, I won’t stalk her. I’ll catch her. Take her. And she’ll cry my name. Her wolf will howl it to the skies.
I adjust my cock before it punches through my zipper, grateful for the dark and Una’s distraction.
I might have never mounted a female before, but I’m no pup. My body is a finely-tuned instrument, and I can read a partner in the ring. Una won’t be dissatisfied.
These aren’t nerves. It’s anticipation.
13
KILLIAN
Our caravan pulls into Chapel Bell as the clock tolls eight. There aren’t many humans around, but the lights blaze at the stand in the square with the cow statue in front. It’s a prime specimen. Nice haunches. Really gets your mouth watering, and then you see the menu, and it’s instant disappointment.
We park our makeshift caravan, and I help Una out of the Jeep. Maybe I linger. The nip of her waist and swell of her hips are sweet as hell. Made for my grip. Her hands flutter to my chest. The lamplight shines in her eyes. I can’t tell if her pupils are blown wide like before when the heat overtook her.
“Everyone’s staring,” she whispers.
“Let them.”
She ducks her head, unconsciously flashing my bite. The sight makes me even harder. When I spill inside her tonight, I’m going to mark her again. Deeper. And then I’m going to mount her again and again until she marks me back.
I lick my lips.
“Ice cream,” she murmurs, voice rough.
“Ice cream.” I force myself to step back. Grab her hand. Lead her after Nuala and her sugar-happy grandson.
We’re the last to order. I get chocolate. Una gets vanilla.
It’s disgusting. The pups like it, but pups will put anything in their mouths. I see many males surreptitiously tossing theirs in the garbage while their females bravely force down what their males have provided for them. There’s an analogy there. I’m not so dense that I don’t see it.
Maybe we’re overdue for a change. I might have accidentally started things moving with this impromptu jaunt to town. A lot of females joined us, as well as all of B-roster. Not so many elders. Even excluding those I left back on purpose, A-roster is underrepresented.
I reach behind the bench and offer my cone to Nuala’s grandson as he tears past, and I smile. I won’t mind a good fight. In a few days. Once Una’s heat is over, and she’s sated.
She’s actually enjoying her ice cream. She savors it, swirling her tongue around the base and then mouthing the cream into peaks.
The back of my neck sweats. We’re sitting together on a wrought-iron bench, and I swear, I’m heating the metal. She has a dollop of melted white on her bottom lip. She darts her pink tongue out and dabs it clean.