“What were you talking to Jameson about?” I ask, having watched an array of emotions cross Brexley’s face when they adjourned in a corner.
“I asked him about the mechanics of mating.”
“A bit late in life to ask about the birds and the bees isn’t it?” Okay, that might have been too much of a touchy subject.
Brexley gives me a dirty look but doesn’t seem truly offended.
My fingers slide up and down the back of his neck. “What did he say?” I ask, truly wanting to know.
“He said I was correct that Weres joining under a full moon will most certainly do the trick. Most in the pack mate as young as sixteen, and the need to mate does get worse the longer you wait.”
“But we didn’t . . . ”
“When Weres meet they can mate at any time. And you heard him, it’s practically unheard of to mate with someone outside of that. Him mating with your mother was against all odds.”
That was the reason I didn’t mate with Hunter or anyone else during my periods of heat. Thank the fae lords for that.
Brexley continues, “He said when it happens there is this sense of coming home. And if I’m being honest, little Red, I think I felt that the first time I met you. Somewhere between caging you against that window and fighting off that ice mage.”
“You mean when you were balls deep?” I chirp.
He growls. “I’m trying to be romantic, but yes, I also felt it when I was balls deep in that sweet little pussy.” His head dips so his lips can latch onto my neck. Goosebumps rise along my neck and arms as he applies just the right amount of suction to get my engine going.
“Am I doomed to repeat this cycle of heat every month still?” I ask, trying to fight closing my eyes and giving into him. I still have more questions.
He pulls back and shakes his head. “The only one who will be heating you up from here on out is me.”
I suppress my smile, not willing to reward his pun.
“But no, it’s done its job, hitching you to me.” He cups my face and gives me a positively devilish grin. “You poor little dear.”
I surge up on my toes and kiss him to soften him for my next question. “So if I ever try to leave you, I’ll die?”
Brexley’s expression turns somber. “I would die without you.” A flicker of fear shows in his eyes. It’s the thing he’s been running away from his whole life, and now he’s fallen into the most vulnerable position with me. I don’t take it lightly.
“What are the limits of that? If I try to leave the state to visit my grandma on a plane, I’ll drop dead after so much distance from you?”
Some of his anxiety eases. “No, but it will be painful to be separated, at least for a little while. After a time, we can separate for longer periods of time and longer distances.”
I did recall my father – how weird is that to say – left his pack for a while to seek out my mother.
“But what does that mean?”
“It means,” he picks me up so fast I squeal. “You must be in my bed every night. It means, if you feel like taking a trip, I will likely tag along. But if you recall, I have my own life. I won’t impose.”
“You plan to stay an assassin,” I say, not sure how I feel about that.
Brexley ascends the stairs. “Baby, you knew I was bad.”
My fingers curl around his shoulders.
“But maybe I opt for more security jobs than wetwork. If I need to stay close to you, tied to geography, I don’t want to scorch the ground I walk on anyway.”
Brexley deposits me on the bed before covering me with his body. He nuzzles my neck.
“Aren’t you still healing?” I ask, my breath quickening as his fingers make their way down my body.
He only responds with a hum, as he tugs my pants over my rear.
