Not violently.
Not dangerously.
Just enough to make me realize that if I stay in this crowded bar much longer, I'm liable to start acting like an idiot.
And my mate deserves better than a drooling Wolf.
“Let's get out of here, Honey.”
I extend my hand.
Everything inside me goes still.
She looks at my hand.
Then at me.
Then at Mike.
The bar owner shrugs.
“Don’t look at me.I’m not vouching for either of you,” he says—and fair.
I get it.
Daria bites her lower lip.
Come on.
Choose me.
I want to beg.
I want to tell her she's the answer to prayers I stopped saying years ago.
Want to tell her she can have anything she wants.
Everything I have.
Everything I am.
Instead, I wait silently.
My Wolf wants to tear me a new asshole, but my patience?
It pays off.
Her tiny hand slides into mine.
My Wolf howls.
Mate.
Mine.
Forever.
I am so fucked.
