Page 155 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

Her eyes opened fully. “No.”

The answer entered the bond cleanly enough that I felt it before the word finished. My chest hurt. I didn’t deserve that answer, but she had not offered it for me to deserve. She had offered it because it was true. I pulled myself out of her, but kept close enough that she could choose the distance. She chose none. She turned carefully onto her uninjured side and put her hand over my heart again.

The same place. Always that place.

“I’m still scared,” she said.

“I know.”

“I still might be furious tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“This does not mean I forgive the bite.”

“I know.”

Her fingers pressed lightly against my chest. “But this was mine.”

I covered her hand with mine. “Yes.”

Outside, the ocean moved in the dark. Inside, Cassie closed her eyes with her hand over my heart and the mark warm between us.

Tomorrow night, I would hunt her in front of wolves who wanted her dead. Tonight, she slept because she had chosen.

Chapter 19:

A Promise Before Moonrise

Ian

Cassie woke before the door opened.

For one quiet moment, before Ronan, Sava, the council, the hunt, and every old law waiting outside the suite could reach us, she woke in my arms because her body chose waking, not because danger dragged her out of sleep.

Her hand was still over my heart. It had stayed there most of the night, even after sleep took her. Each time she shifted, her fingers had curled against my chest as if some part of her wanted proof I was still there. I had not moved her hand away. I had barely moved at all.

I had spent the night listening to her breathe. That should have felt like punishment after what we had done. Instead, it felt like the only honest duty I had left.

The first light came through the balcony doors in a pale line across the floor. The sea beyond the curtains moved softly, almost gentle, which seemed rude considering the island intended to put her life on trial by moonrise.

Cassie blinked against my chest, then went very still.

I felt the exact moment she remembered.

The bond warmed in a slow, startled pulse. Not fear first, which surprised me. Embarrassment came before it, then awareness, then a flicker of desire so quick she tried to bury it before my body could answer.

My body answered anyway.

Her fingers tightened over my heart.

“Morning,” she said, voice rough from sleep.

The word was ordinary enough to hurt.

“Morning.”

She lifted her head, and her hair fell across one cheek. Her mouth was still soft from sleep, and there was a faint crease on her face from the sheet. She looked younger for one breath, not in years, but in guard. Then her eyes sharpened, and Cassie returned to herself fast enough to make me nearly smile.