So nobody is allowed to look at her wrong or speak badly of her in my presence. There will be no judging her without knowing her. If they haven’t spent a week basking in the light of her presence, then they can fuck right off.
I snap my jaws at the edge of the man’s nose, less than an inch from his face, and he cringes backward like he could sink into the floor and get away from me.
I dare you. Run, motherfucker, run.
The scent of magic fills the air, and I know the man beneath me is about to shift. I’m ready for it, my lips curled back from my teeth and my body tensed to attack. But before either of us can do anything else, soft, familiar hands sink into my fur and fist my scruff.
“Dare, please. Don’t hurt him.” Sable’s voice drifts into my ears like a balm for my nerves. She tugs, and fingernails digging into the thick fur at my shoulders. “Please, Dare!”
She’s not strong enough to yank me off the fucker, and she knows it. Even if he shifts, I’m sure I could take this asshole. The wolf inside me, the part of me that was almost feral before I met my mate, wants to fight him. Wants to kill him.
But if I did that, I’d become a pariah—the angry, unpredictable alpha with no pack who can’t be trusted around other shifters. They’d banish me from pack lands. Banish me from her. Ridge, Archer, and Trystan would turn their backs on me, and this tentative peace and happiness we’ve found together would come crashing down.
I can’t do that to Sable.
Her grip on my fur pulls me back from that ledge, breaking the tight focus of my anger. I back away, putting my front paws back on the floor. The man glares at me as he sits up and rubs his chest.
Good, I hope I broke a rib, you fucking prick. Say something about my mate again and see what happens next time.
Fury is still burning white-hot through my veins, and I don’t trust myself not to launch myself at the man if he so much as breathes a word against Sable.
So before the shitbag can say another word, I turn and bound out of the meeting house. The feral wolf in me howls with disappointment, hungry for blood. But I already fucked things up between me and my mate by pushing her away after her witch came out.
If I kill a man in cold blood, even if it’s to defend her honor, I’ll lose her forever.
Because she’s a much better fucking person than I am.
Not even giving a fuck where I’m going, I run fast and far, until I can’t hear the raised voices inside the barn anymore. Until I can’t sense the crowd of shifters and the way they whisper suspicious words about Sable’s heritage. I run until the woods grow thick around me and the bright blue sky is hidden behind a canopy of leaves.
Finally, I slow, my breaths coming in hard and fast pants. I press my forehead to a tree, focusing on my breathing until I’ve slowed my heart rate and gotten ahold of my emotions. That’s when I sense Sable behind me.
Her wolf is still a new entity for me. I got used to her human form—to her scent, to the overall sensation of her being near me. The wolf adds a new layer, and when she’s in that form, I can taste how much she belongs to me.
My mate. My entire reason for being here.
My entire reason for being.
I don’t know where we are. Somewhere on the far outskirts of the North Pack’s village, well out of view of any of the houses. It’s just me and Sable out here, and I want nothing more than to feel her hands on me. To let her soothe the beast away, because I can’t seem to fucking manage it.
I shift back, the magic rippling over me like cold water until I’m standing against the tree, one hand braced on the bark. My anger is a deadly thing, so close to the surface I could drown in it. I’m so finely attuned to Sable’s presence that I can sense the exact moment she shifts, even though I’m not looking at her. Her wolf pheromones vanish, and all I can smell is the decadent scent of her skin.
I mark her steps as she comes up behind me. Her voice is tentative as she asks, “Dare? Are you okay?”
“No.” I snarl the word through gritted teeth.
“Do you want to… talk about it?” She takes two more steps closer. Even though she’s so small and delicate, her presence looms behind me, bigger than the sun and just as important to my life.
“I can’t stand to see people treat you like that,” I say, venom still filling my tone.
Another step. She’s almost within reach. “They’re just scared. They don’t understand.”
“Well, you don’t deserve that,” I snap, and then force myself to take a couple bracing breaths. The last thing I need to do is take my anger out on the one person who doesn’t provoke it. “You didn’t deserve it when I treated you that way, and you don’t deserve it now.”
“Oh.” She hesitates. “Are you still…? Dare, I understand. Why you did what you did. I don’t hold it against you. I could never.”
A growl rumbles in my chest. She’s a better wolf than me. A better person than me. I’m lucky she accepted me back, when she could just as easily have told me to get the hell away from her before I hurt her again.
“I hate them.” I shake my head. “I fucking hate how it hurts you.”
“I get that,” she says slowly. Her fingers latch gently on to my shoulder. “And I appreciate the way you stood up for me. But you can’t just attack people like that.”
I don’t reply. I hear her and I smell her, but her fingers on my bare shoulder are what holds my full attention. That small connection might as well be all that exists in the whole fucking world. I imagine her hand sliding down my back. Her fingers kneading the hard knots in my muscles, chasing away the demons that I somehow continue to harbor inside me. I never want her to stop touching me. I never want to stop touching her.
As if she can hear my thoughts, her other hand moves over my shoulder blade, and then both her hands are caressing my back. Warmth flows from her skin, heating me, awakening my cock with more fury than seems possible. I harden my grip on the tree, my blunt nails biting into the rough bark.
When I don’t speak, her voice behind me softens. “You know, I sometimes worry that you feel the same way as that guy,” she murmurs, pain in her tone. “I worry that you’re disgusted by me. That you’ll always struggle to accept who I am. And I can’t even blame you. If I’d grown up a shifter, if I’d watched my people slaughtered…”
She trails off, her voice clogged with emotion.
God, she’s an incredible woman. Kind. Lovely. Compassionate in a way I’ve never been able to manage. The sweet vulnerability in her voice rips my heart into pieces. Sable is everything true and beautiful in this world, and I’ll be fucking damned if I don’t spend the rest of my life proving it to her.
In a flash, I whip around and take hold of her arms. I switch our positions, pressing her back up against the tree, boxing her in with my arms so that she can’t run away from me.
So that she’ll know I don’t want to run away from her.
My gaze runs down her naked body. My heart picks up a frantic pace, and I slide my hands lower, brushing over her arms, then her trim waist and her soft, round hips. I lick my lips, aching to bury my face between her legs until she cries my name.
But even more powerful than the need to claim her in this moment is the need to make sure she knows. To make sure she understands.