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My eyes catch his through the window when I sneak into his room to steal more pillows. And his duvet. They keep me warm. Smell good. Are soft. With a few additions, my bed feels like sinking into a hug, and I have no regrets.
….bestie you’re nesting.
I wonder if I should introduce myself and…I don’t know, hold out my hand to shake his paw.
I pout—until I spot the squirrel he’s chasing. “Those fuckers,” Koen mutters, clearly empathizing.
Look at her. Just—look at her.
I laugh again, and we roll into a place that looks like the quaint seaside towns I sometimes see in movies, the ones where fiscally conservative people go for weekends of antiquing, dinner parties, and discreet cheating on their spouses.
But overall, there is something delicious about discovering that Weres like goldfish crackers, too—except theirs are shaped after
The moon*
I might be coming undone. Or maybe some very dumb spirit has possessed me, because I let my wrist drag against the skin at the base of his throat, as if to…as if to rub off on him? More, my instinct screams at me. More. Make him smell like you.
YOU’RE MARKING HIM HELLO.
How does he always know?
“If a bald eagle dove in from the sky to abduct you, my life would be so much easier.”
Because every single thing I glanced at, grazed, examined, eyed, or even considered when we were at the grocery store, every single thing I decided to walk past, every single thing I told myself I didn’t need—every single thing has somehow made it here, inside Koen’s house.
Her laughter adjusts the spin of his atoms.
“Oh, Serena. What’s up?” the first says. The second just grins, waves at me, and bends over to stretch his hamstrings, giving me a thorough view of his butthole.
twatwaffles
“Mouthy, isn’t she, Boden?” He sighs. “Never thought I’d be into that, and yet. Bane of my fucking existence.” His eyes flit to mine. “Don’t stop on my account,” he says with a lopsided smile. “I love watching asses being ridden. It’s my favorite kind of porn.”
“I doubt it. There are a handful of young pack members that are as dominant as he is and don’t even behave like skid marks on the thong of the universe.”
When I tell you I ugly laughed out loud.
“Look at you,” he says. At least, I think so. I could have imagined it, because it’s little more than a whispered growl, quickly followed by a much lighter question.
“I told you,” he says calmly. All of a sudden, he’s ice cold. “I’m not interested.” My stomach hollows. The words reverberate through me, harsher than a slap.
Koen was fifteen when he became Alpha. Fifteen. And around the same time, something big happened—something that killed Brenna’s family, destroyed pack records, and gave the Northwest a reason to reunite.
The cabin smells like… Impossible. He must be losing his mind.
I beg the god of physiologically dysregulated bitches with sleep disorders to keep him away for ten more minutes.
Preach.
“Play-fight is an honored Were pastime.” “I guess not everyone has the knees for pickleball.”
“Serena, the Alpha of Northwest pack is traditionally asked to honor a celibacy covenant. He’s forbidden by law to engage in any kind of intimate relationships—emotional or physical.”
Oh. My. God.
He told her that he would never touch her because he didn’t want her enough; in truth, he will never touch her because he wants her too much. The make-believe, he thinks, was kinder to both of them.
“Don’t run.” I swallow thickly. “I…Why?” “Walk slowly to the washing machine and get rid of the clothes.” His voice pins me to the ground. Something builds in my belly. “Do not make me chase after you.”
“He’s not,” I say distractedly. “He’s not…?” Anneke asks. “Breaking the covenant. I remain tragically unfucked.”
“It’s hardly evidence that you two are not in a relationship,” Xabier points out, “the way she takes liberties. Gives you orders.” “Is it?” Koen sounds bored. “You three just showed up to my house to tell me what to do, and last I checked, I’m not fucking any of you.”
“What I’m trying to say is, he told me that nothing would happen between us on the day we first met. And I’m not about to try to disintegrate his free will with my magic cunt. Okay?”
“You look so much more dignified, now that I’ve de-shed you. Cuter, too. Just like that hot guy. From that movie.” “What movie?” “All of them.”
“It’s just been a lot. In very little time. I think I’m ready for the musical episode, you know?”
“Before I leave, I think I need to hold you for a minute.” I’m in his arms before I know how I got there.
He bends further, and there isn’t a single trace of doubt on his face. He’s an immovable object and an unstoppable force. And he says, slowly, “If you think I’m going to let you die, Serena, you know fuck all.”
He easily resigned himself to a lifetime without her, but… Simply put, he is unwilling to contemplate a universe in which she no longer exists.
“You are so cynical. A little science could never stand between a frat boy and his desire for a monthly howl fest.”
“That’s why they want me. It’s not about who I’m related to. They think that I used to be Human, and Constantine turned me into a Were.”
“Well, since it’s probably going to happen, would you like a heads-up on the biology?” “The what?” “His dick. It—”
🪢
My eyebrow lifts. “Uh-oh. Celibacy Threat Alert.”
“I didn’t say you could go faster,” he chides with a brief tap of his fingers over the fabric.
“These are your glands, Serena. Did no one show you?” “No.” “Might be for the best. I’d have to stop what I’m doing and go kill them.” Another graze of his teeth. All my muscles clench, and I’m afraid I’ll pass out.
Me suddenly listing after necks and wrists like a Victorian woman’s ankles.
“I hate it,” he breathes out. “What?” “How perfect you are. I spent the last twenty years hoping that if there was a mate for me out there, I’d never come across them. And then I found you, and, Serena…there isn’t one thing I would change about you. Or one single thing I regret about knowing you.”
“You see, your estrogen levels are also noticeably past normal thresholds, but because of the existence of CSD, Dr. Henshaw and Sem assumed that the complex relationship between estradiol and—”
It took two male doctors to tell her she was dying just for a midwife to be like—girlie, you’re in HEAT. 10/10 accruacy.
“People without degrees would call it going into Heat,” Koen says, and the realization crashes into me like a caravan of armored trucks. My behavior last night. The dreams. Koen’s…everything.
“You aren’t,” I say. Very upset. “Is this a thing that happens to Weres?” “Yes, it does. Usually in wolf form.”
“Breakthrough heats are not unheard of in human form, either. I’ve been practicing for about ten years, and I’ve had several patients like you, triggered by all sorts of things.” “Such as?” “Stressful events. Medications. The most common cause is close proximity to a sexually compatible partner.”
“There will also be temporary physiological changes. For instance, your scent will become more appealing to potential partners.” “As in, my smell brings all the Weres to the yard?”
“Is this going to…Should I be worried?” I glance at Koen, who doesn’t get my meaning. “How appealing is my scent going to be to others? Should I get online and order a Taser?”
He never thought the world was a particularly fair place. Still, it’s a startlingly vile brand of cruelty on fate’s part, to show him her—what he could have had, if only he’d made different choices.
I don’t have CSD. Which means that I have more than just months left. I can make choices. I can go back to the Southwest, see Ana grow up, watch Misery be the worst parent on the planet.
“I…Brenna, could we stop by the store?” “Sure. Why?” “I…” A tear slides down my cheek. I cover my smile with the palm of my hand. “I just realized that I’m going to need some sunscreen.”
The look we exchange is worth a million unspoken words but could be condensed to fewer than ten. It’s wrong. Let’s do it anyway, though.
“And you lied to me, because…” “You didn’t ask if I could play. You asked if I played. And before this week, I hadn’t. Not in years.” “God, I hate you.” “Sure.”
