I lean against the doorframe. Una must know I’m here, but she doesn’t turn her head. She’s braided her hair again and changed into a flowing lavender dress. She’s beautiful and calm, but her eyes are distant. Sad.
Are our females and pups happy?
I’ve never wondered before. I assumed. No one’s getting beat. No one’s hungry.
If they weren’t content, would anyone tell me? Would anyone think I’d even care to know?
“What are you doing?” I ask Una because it’s easier than following that train of thought.
“This is a lovely quilt.”
“It was my grandmother’s.”
“She made it?”
“No. She wasn’t the type to sew. She must have bought it.”
“It’s human-made?”
“Yeah.”
“Your grandmother traded with humans?”
“She must have.”
Una raises her eyes to me. Her usual defensiveness is gone. There’s a vulnerability there now which scares me shitless. This female can be hurt. I can hurt her again. I can lose everything in this second, and I am not equal to the moment. At the end of the day, I’m nothing but a brawler. All fists and fangs.
None of those will do me any good here, with my mate considering her nest, her raw heart on her sleeve.
“Why can’t we, then?” She adjusts the quilt so it covers the pillows she slept on last night.
My wolf’s ‘no’ is loud enough it sounds in my throat. She startles, her fingers flying to her side. I stay still. Shove my hands in my pockets.
The picture of that smarmy human with the beard leering at her flashes in my brain. And her all alone, clutching that jar of mushrooms to her chest like it was treasure. It wouldn’t take a rogue wolf to carry her off. Any idiot human could manage it if he promised her whatever it is she’s looking for.
What is it that she wants?
“I’ll pay for your phone. If you want to buy the others games or whatever, you can.”
She straightens her spine. “I don’t want your money.”
“Then why do you want to sell shit to the humans?”
“I want my money.”
“We’re pack. There’s no mine. No yours.” Every pup understands this. Wolves aren’t human. We rise and fall together.
She snorts. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”
“Everything I have is yours.” It’s the truest thing I know.
She takes a deep breath and tries again. “I don’t want your stuff. I want mine.”
“You’re happy enough with my stuff in your nest.” It feels like a solid point, and I know when it lands, that I shot myself in the foot.
Her eyes turn shiny, but she doesn’t cry. She lifts her chin and steps away from the bed. “It’s just biology. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Una—”
“You don’t understand, and you don’t want to.” She shrugs. “I guess it is what it is.”
She sails past me, dragging her bad leg with the offended dignity of a queen. I’m an asshole, and I’m not really sure why.
“We can go to dinner now,” she says over her shoulder. “I’ll sit wherever you want. Alpha.”
“Una.” I follow her. “You’re being bitchy.”
“Sorry, Alpha.”
I speed up to open the door for her. She shuffles past me, chin high. I lift her by the waist and carry her down the stairs while she holds herself as rigid as a board.
“Damn it, Una. It’s not safe for you alone in town. Let alone Mari and Annie. How many wins do you have between you?”
The answer is none. Females fight rarely, and then usually only those contending for alpha rank. Cheryl won her position more through lack of interest than prowess.
“We sell honey and herbs. It’s not fight club. It’s a farmer’s market.”
“You’re not that na?ve. You can’t be.”
She heads down the path toward the commons, and I shorten my stride to keep pace with her. She’s hustling a little more than usual, but the speed is still painfully slow. At least by the time we get to the lodge, dinner will be served, and our original point of disagreement will be moot.
I’m grouchy, starving, and even though I know she’s trying to pick up the pace, we’re basically taking one step at a time like a bride toward the altar.
And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. My heart soars, and Una looks over at me. Her brow wrinkles. She felt that through the bond.