“You could’ve changed your mind after,” she said. “He was gone. You were Alpha.”
“I know,” he said. “I thought about it. Every day. But you were gone. And I had to establish my position. Not all the alphas in the pack were happy when I became Alpha. I needed to make sure my people were safe and my pack was at peace.”
Ten lost years sat between them.
She hugged her arms around herself. “I needed you,” she said, “I gave birth all by myself, in a strange motel bathroom, with no idea what to do or where to go. I nearly burned the place down when my magic woke up with the pain of childbirth. I had no idea what was happening or why. I had to run; I had to workeverythingout myself. ”
Pain crossed his face, naked and quick.
“I know,” he said softly. “I’ve had a decade to sit with the fact that I broke the only good thing I’d ever been handed. I’m not telling you this to make it better. I just…” He inhaled, slow and shaky. “You deserve to know it wasn’t because you weren’t enough. It was because I was a coward.”
Her eyes burned.
“You were cruel,” she said. “You called me a mistake. You made sure I wouldn’t crawl back.”
“I know,” he said again, voice catching.
His hand hovered between them, useless.
Her own hand moved before she decided. She set her fingers in his.
Heat slid up her arm. The bond flared, pleased and sharp.
“You don’t get points for honesty,” she said, because if she didn’t talk, she’d cry. “You don’t undo it that easy.”
“I know,” he repeated. “I’m not trying to. I’m just done with you thinking I let you go because I didn’t want you.”
His fingers closed around hers, big and careful.
“Because I did,” he said quietly. “Want you. More than anything.”
Her breath stuttered. “You’re ten years late, wolf.”
“I know,” he said, helpless and honest.
She looked at him. At the new lines carved into his face. The way he watched her like she might vanish. Her anger was still there, solid. So was the stupid, stubborn wanting that had never really gone.
“You broke me,” she said, softer now. “But I built other things. Her. My place in the coven.Myself. I’m not giving any of that up for you.”
“I’m not asking you to,” he said. “I’m asking if you’ll let me in. With you. With her. Pack and coven and all. Even if part of me still flinches when you use magic. I’m trying to drown that part. Every day.”
She gave a wet little laugh, “Let me know when it starts working.”
Wind knifed through the hollow. She shivered.
He shifted closer, still holding her hand, his other palm cupping the side of her neck, thumb brushing the edge of his mark.
“You’re freezing,” he muttered.
“Your fault,” she said, voice thin.
“Most things are,” he said. There was humor in it, and something rougher underneath.
His wolf pressed against her through the bond, heavy and waiting.
“Dani,” he said. Just her name. Question and warning.
“Yes,” she said. She wasn’t entirely sure which part she was answering. “Don’t make me say please.”
