“Your pack,” she echoed. “Not ours.”
He flinched.
Aurelia edged closer to her, fingers brushing Dani’s hand. Dani caught them automatically.
“You were throwing sparks in a bar full of wolves,” he said, forcing his voice level. “I’m allowed to be concerned.”
“You say concerned,” Dani said, “I hear terrified. Of me. Of what I am.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” he said.
“No,” she replied. “You’re afraid of what you think I represent.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw.
“This is who I am now, Arthur,” she went on. “Witch. Mother. Mate, apparently. All of that comes with me. I’m not going to apologize for it. And I’m not going to pretend to be less for your comfort.”
She’d been shy once, younger than this, desperate for the pack’s approval. Now she stood in the center of the bar, ash-smudged and steady.
Part of him admired it. Part of him wanted to shake her.
“You could be more careful,” he said, aiming for compromise. “That’s all I’m asking.”
“Careful is what kept me alive this long,” she said. “I know how to handle my magic. I know my limits.”
“Do you?” he shot back. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like the bond’s changed things. Amplified them.”
For a heartbeat, surprise cracked through her annoyance. “You felt that?”
“Hard not to,” he said. “You nearly took my eyebrows off in that clearing.”
The corner of her mouth twitched, unwilling.
He seized on it. “What were you doing, anyway?” he asked, nodding at the cards. “Apart from giving my wolves bad habits.”
“Party tricks,” Dani said. “Kiara and I were teaching them not to bet on the obvious card.”
“You were cheating at cards in my bar,” he translated.
“Correct,” Kiara said serenely. “It builds character.”
“I…” he broke off, frustrated. Words felt like the wrong tools for this. “I don’t want you hurt.”
Her eyes searched his face, like she was hunting for the lie.
“I know,” she said.
Kiara snorted. “You mated a witch,” she said. “Adaptation seems wise.”
He gave her a flat look. She didn’t so much as blink.
“All right,” Dani said slowly. “Then we learn. Together. But on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“You stop talking about my magic like it’s a disease,” she said. “And you stop looking at Aurelia like she’s one misstep away from being infected by it.”
His head jerked back. “I don’t—”
