Page 24 of Trusting Her Mate

“What does that look like, specifically?”

I scrub a hand over my jaw. “Sitting together. Close. Touching, your hand in mine, my arm around you. The kind of contact mates do without thinking.”

“But we don’t do it without thinking. We’ve only known each other for three days.”

“Then we think about it now, so it looks like we don’t.”

She folds her arms. “You said no touching unless necessary.”

“It’s necessary.”

“You said no kissing. Ever.”

My stomach drops. I know exactly where this is headed. I’ve been trying not to think about it since yesterday.

“Kissing is different,” I say.

“Is it?”

“Mates kiss. It’s expected.”

“You said it wouldn’t be required.”

“It wasn’t required at the gate. This is a pack gathering. Ashstone is challenging the claim. If we don’t...”

“If we don’t kiss in front of everyone, they’ll think we’re faking.” Her voice is flat. “Funny how the rules change when the pressure’s on.”

I deserve that. I made the rules. I set the boundaries. And now I’m the one asking to break them because the situation demands it.

“I’m asking,” I say carefully. “Not telling.”

Her arms tighten around herself. “You’re asking me to kiss you in front of the entire pack.”

“I’m asking if you’re willing to. If you’re not, we find another way.”

“Is there another way?”

I turn it over in my head, searching for another way out. The pack needs proof, real, physical proof. Handholding won’t cut it. Sitting close won’t cut it. Mates who haven’t sealed the bond yet are hungry. Everyone knows it. They’ll be watching for that heat, that pull, that tension you can’t fake between two wolves who want each other and haven’t had each other yet.

If they don’t see it, they’ll doubt. And doubt is all Dax needs.

“No,” I say. “There isn’t.”

Wren is quiet for a long time. She looks at the window, at the trees, at the wooden bear on the shelf. Anywhere but me.

She finally breaks the silence. “Dax used to kiss me in front of people.”

My wolf goes lethal, and I lock him down so hard my bones creak.

“Not like...” She stops, frustrated. “He would grab my face. In front of his friends. Make sure everyone saw. It wasn’t about me. It was about them watching. About showing them I was his.”

I don’t move. I don’t breathe.

“I’m not doing that again,” she says. “I don’t care if Ashstone burns the whole territory down. I will not be displayed.”

“That’s not what I’m...”

“I know.” She finally looks at me. “I know that’s not what you’re asking. But I need you to understand why this is hard for me.”