She pushes against my chest. “Aaron. Wait.”
I stop.
Every cell in my body is screaming to keep moving and I stop. The effort it takes nearly breaks me. I groan and roll off her onto my back, and my dick is pointing at the ceiling along with my stare. I let out a long, suffering breath.
“Is this about the cabin?” My voice is rougher than I want. “Because I need to talk to you about that.”
She sits up beside me and her tail comes up between us and floats over my dick like a goddamn punishment for breathing, and before it can do anything truly sinful she slaps it away. I smirk at her, though the gesture feels tight on my face. She blushes, and it makes something squeeze low in me.
“You want to get straight to it,” she snaps, “instead of working out our issues.”
“Weren’t our issues about me withholding our ability to make a cub? Plus the cabin?” I’m trying for casual.
She huffs and sits up further, and I try to push myself up to follow her and a headache slams into the back of my head like a door closing on me. I groan and put a palm to my forehead.
“We are in big trouble with our king,” she reminds me.
“I don’t care about that. I care about putting a cub in you and fixing what I broke.”
She scoffs, and my fingers dig into my temple.
“Your mother told me I’m not a good communicator to you.”
I go still, tension locking every muscle in my body. The thought of what my mother might have said to her while I was unconscious makes my stomach turn.
“She said I’m confusing you.”
I don’t answer. My mother’s right and we both know it. But my mate just spent her first night home with me in a week, and I’m not saying that out loud. The thought feels like betrayal.
Mara’s tail falls limp on the bed.
I turn onto my side, facing her, and put my hand on her thigh. “Baby. Don’t do that.”
“Am I a bad mate?” Her voice wavers, and the sound of her uncertainty destroys me.
“No.” I say it before she finishes, fierce and immediate. “You’re not a bad mate.”
She doesn’t look at me, and the distance feels like miles though I could touch her with the slightest movement.
“But.” My head is still pounding and I push through it, knowing this moment matters more than my comfort. “We do have communication issues. And that’s not yours alone. What I did was terrible. I should have spoken to you about it first. I would have learned quickly that you were fine with carrying acub while you finished your teaching degree at the Academy. It was wrong of me to take that from you.” I make her look at me. Her amber eyes are wet and she’s trying not to let me see it, the pride of her lion battling with her hurt. “I’m sorry.”
The words feel inadequate for the magnitude of what I’ve done, but they’re all I have.
She relaxes back against the pillows and her tail comes around to me, tassel curling around my wrist, and I smile.
“See? I’m not so bad.” The joke falls from my lips.
She gives me a flat look, but there’s a softness under it that wasn’t before.
“Your lion still loves me.”
“I still love you too, Aaron,” she snaps.
I grip her and pull her into my arms, my movements desperate and clumsy. She protests for half a breath, but I can’t let go, not now.
“You tried to kill my father, Aaron.” Her voice vibrates against me.
I press my lips to her forehead, shame and defiance warring inside me. “I did. I needed you to come home.”
