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My gaze fell to the marking on my collarbone that I’d spent the past thirteen years trying to ignore. It was always there, a brand that called me out and marked me as different. A three-inch, faded, and stretched black ink tattoo of one word: WOLFSBANE.
“You smell like snow in the forest and cinnamon trees.” His eyes opened, a deep blue that warmed me from within. “You smell like the home I’ve spent my entire life looking for. That’s why my scent changed when I caught yours. Seeing you and being with you only cemented that you’re it for me.”
“Hurt people hurt people.” It was a line my mom used to explain to her eight-year-old why her father wasn’t around. One I’d learned was a fact when I watched the life drain from my mother’s eyes at the hands of Alpha who’d lost his mind when he lost his mate. “That’s not an excuse.” “It’s an explanation.”
“When the hell did I say you’re not enough for me?” his eyes were narrow, pissed and offended at the same time.
“Go home.” I went inside. As the door closed, he said, “You’re the only home I want anymore.”
“As soon as you know what it’s like to be an eight-year-old who knows there isn’t a soul alive who loves you, you can call me whatever you want. Until then, get out of my bar and leave me the hell alone.”
“I’m surprised no one told you, but Lilac and Arla chased me down at the nightclub. Spent a couple minutes each telling me all the reasons I’m a terrible person who deserves to rot in hell. It was really pleasant, so I drank in celebration.”
“You want the truth? Fine. I want you. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. I want to mate with you, to spend my life with you, all that romantic shit. I want you to be mine. But I also haven’t known you that long, and I’m terrified that you’re going to change as soon as I’m yours. Or that you’re going to get challenged and lose next week, or next month, or next year. The longer I have with you, the more it’ll hurt when I inevitably lose you.”
