Page 96 of Blood and Trouble

When everything was packed up, I’d just managed to put on a shoe, bending over to tie it. Lycan noticed and dropped to one knee in front of me, tightening the laces.

“I can do it,” I said.

“Of course,” he said. “Doesn’t mean you should have to.”

I stared at the back of his silver-blond head and touched the mark on my neck, allowing a small bit of guilt to creep into my chest.

He must have sensed that because he glanced up at me and sighed through his nose.

“For what it’s worth,” I murmured. “I’m sorry. About Poe.”

He smirked. “No, you’re not. And neither am I.”

In a rare moment of vulnerability, I swallowed and touched his cheek. “Do you think you’d ever mark me? Do you think you’d ever let me mark you?”

Lycan opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Locust popped his head into the room.

“We’re ready when you are,” he said.

And just like all the stolen moments before, the words died on his tongue. I watched his response fade behind his eyes, hardening into resolution. I didn’t know if I’d ever get an answer, but maybe it didn’t matter. He’d made his choice, and I’d made mine, and on life went.

The road trip gave me a lot of time to think, mostly about how I’d found myself stuffed into the backseat of an old minivan that reeked of mildew and stale cigarettes while Lycan and Poe argued over music up front.

For someone who had so much control over their life for twenty-six years, living so recklessly should have given me whiplash. But all I felt was pity for the woman I once was.

I ruminated on the look in Lycan’s eyes when I asked him if he’d ever bite me or let me bite him. He hadn’t said no, but it also didn’t look like he’d say yes. For someone who’d said he never wanted to mate anyone, I couldn’t really blame him. I thought about what Poe explained: two dominant shifters would tear each other apart over a potential mate. But the way those two teased each other for most of the last five hours didn’t make me believe they were close to doing that. If anything, I should feel like tearing out Lycan’s throat for daring to mark what I’d already claimed, but I didn’t. It shouldn’t be right, but it was. It shouldn’t feel like my heart was so full it could burst, but it did.

“You doing okay back there?” Poe asked, glancing over his shoulder from the passenger seat.

“Just fine,” I said. “But I’m sorry to say I agree with Lycan. You should leave it on the classic rock station.”

Poe gasped as Lycan laughed.

“First of all, Green Day is not classic rock,” he huffed. “They were the pinnacle of late nineties/early aughts punk. AC/DC is classic rock. Lynyrd Skynyrd is classic rock.” He went on, but I caught Lycan’s wink in the rearview mirror. He’d been right, after all. Riling up Poe was entirely too much fun and so very easy.

We stopped for the night at a tiny bed-and-breakfast just outside Essen. It was the best Locust and Bow could do on such short notice, keeping our low profile in mind. Calling it a B&B was generous. It was barely more than a three-bedroom cottage on the outskirts of town, run by a retired couple and a dachshund that greeted us with a friendly tail wag and curious sniffs. Poe helped me hobble up the stairs, but after a few hours, I was doing much better.

When I made it to the bathroom to shower, I checked the wound in the mirror. It looked like it had happened weeks ago rather than earlier in the day. My side no longer ached when I breathed, and the wound had scabbed over. The silver graze still made me sluggish, but Poe assured me that would go away soon, too.

“It’s because you’re near me,” Poe said, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watching me examine the angry bruise. “As mates, we share magic. I felt it when you got hurt. You’re pulling on my energy to heal.”

“Is it still hurting you?” I didn’t want to weaken him to get better.

“Relax, baby.” He stepped closer to brush my hair behind my ear. “It’s my honor to do it.”

I smiled and leaned my head into his hand.

“How are you with everything?” I asked, nodding at Lycan’s bite mark.

“It’s weird,” he admitted. “I spent years wishing he would, and now that he has, I’m pissed about the circumstances. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe a romantic proposal with wine and an extravagant gesture.”

I snorted.

“Not like this,” he said. “Not because he was jealous and pissed off. And now, what am I supposed to do? Bite him back? Stand aside while he bites you?”

I pinched my bottom lip between my teeth as I considered the conversation Locust had interrupted earlier. Could the three of us have a mating bond? Would it even work? I might spend centuries contemplating the right course of action and still have no answers. But I knew what I felt in the woods on the full moon. Our wolves inherently understood the dynamics, and I was tired of pretending it wasn’t there.

He sighed and dropped his hands to my waist. “Let me help you shower.”