“He had to come before his time. It fucked up the way he sees things.” His body’s tense, his face hard as he explains. He looks like he’s been called on the carpet in front of the elders. “What made him come too soon?” “You don’t need to know that,” he growls. I duck my head, instinct driving me to appease the stronger male I’ve angered. I make myself lift my chin. No. I deserve to know. I tell him so. “Yes, I do,” I say, willing my voice to be strong, not wounded, knowing as the first words tremble out that I’m failing. “I-I should know why I can’t have a mate.”
