“We’re definitely not to the drink-sharing stage of our—okay” I said the last word around the aluminum lip of his energy drink.
“You shoved your straw into my mouth last week. You already put us in the drink sharing stage.” He tipped the can, pouring a tiny amount of the fizzy, syrupy liquid in my mouth before pulling it away. “Good, right?”
“Not particularly.” I chased it down with coffee and opened my ice cream. “It’s not awful, though. Do you usually drink those? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with one.”
“I save caffeine for special occasions. I don’t like feeling drained when the effect fades.”
“That’s understandable.” Maybe I’d eventually stop drinking coffee.
It seemed unlikely, though. I could’ve weaned myself off it when I was locked in the tower apartment, but I’d forced their terrible coffee down time and time again.
“How is your pack different from the Erren one?” I asked before I took a bite of my ice cream. It didn’t taste fantastic. That was probably the vanilla situation speaking again.
After the world’s best meal on my couch earlier, I didn’t particularly care about the ice cream.
“We’re more charming,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “It was a serious question, Mav.”
“I gave a serious answer.” He opened his ice cream bar too. My nostrils flared, and I made a face at the smell of it. “You smell a hell of a lot better.”
“That’s good.”
“The most rural packs are a lot more in-tune with their animal sides. They couldn’t care less about making money or getting along with humans. The Erren pack is rural lite.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’ll make sense when you meet them.”
“I thought I was waiting in the car.”
Maverick lifted an eyebrow in my direction. “You think I’m going to leave my mate in the car while I interview potential murderers?”
“I’m not your mate, Mav.”
“Not officially.” He took a bite of his ice cream. “You’re not going to want to point that out in front of the Erren wolves. Cassidy has tried to claim me a couple times now. She’ll try again if she thinks you’re not interested.”
“How has she tried to claim you? What does that mean?”
“Remember what happened the first time I bit you?”
“It would be pretty hard to forget how you tackled me out of nowhere.”
He grinned. “The wrestle is part of the ritual. Where would the fun be if we just bit each other?”
“Biting is plenty fun on its own. Wrestling is part of mating for you guys?”
He bobbed his head. “When a werewolf wants to claim a mate, they instigate the wrestle in an attempt to bite the person they want. Usually, to secure themselves a good match. You can tell fate’s not driving it when their eyes don’t glow during the wrestle, but it’s still considered a valid claim if someone succeeds.”
I blinked, trying to process what he’d just said. “She’s tried to tackle and bite you? On more than one occasion?”
“Yeah.”
“The murder suspect?”
“Yup.”
“Did she ever succeed?”
