“You can relax,” he says. “You’re safe. I’m not angry. I’m not gonna hurt you.” I snort in the dirt. He chuckles. “There’s my grumpy mate.” Mate? Oh, fuck him. “I’m not your mate.” “I talked to the crone. She says you are.” “I reject you.” He chuckles. “You can’t reject me. My bite mark is on your neck.”
