Page 97 of Red

“Pratt knew. Have you ever told anyone else?”

I search his eyes, unsure what I would need to tell him the truth. “Yes, he did, but that’s not the same . . . No one else has ever known.” He was my brother. He always put me first, even when I wished he didn’t.

“Then I’m only going to ask you this once more. Are you my mate?”

“I find you prefer to make decisions for others.”

He doesn’t answer, and I turn to see his blue eyes full of questions.

“Stark, I‘m yours for life.” I kiss his cheek, and he spins me around, lifting me into the air. I laugh, and so does he.

“My . . . ?” He drags the word out, waiting for me to finish the sentence.

A smile crosses deep into my cheeks. “Your mate.”

“I am never going to let you go.” He lowers me against his chest, and the tingles hum more than ever between us. From head to toe, they crawl, making the magic’s heat less front and center.

“We should keep it quiet. Until after all this mess with the Uprising is done.”

His hot breath brushes my ear. “Why? I’d mark you tomorrow.” He’s just being sweet. You have to mark each other in your werewolf form, but it hurts more than I can admit.

“I can’t mark you back.” At least, not if I don’t tell you the truth. “I just want to be happy with you for a bit to myself.”

“Okay, mate. As you wish.”

He pulls his shirt off and slides it over my head, then we stroll down the cliffside in the dark together. I don’t listen for a thing, just humming along. Stark smiles, and a few times, he tugs me into his arms for a kiss.

Outside the open yard of the house, he pushes me up against a tree.

“Do we have to wait?” I wanted him before, but now the need is unrelenting.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“What if I like a bit of pain?” I bite my lip.

“Red.” His voice gets deep, and a growl comes from the back of his throat. “Don’t push me.”

“Fine.” I wiggle my hips into him, but he holds them in place, his blue eyes glowing in the treed darkness. I sigh as he presses his lips to my forehead.

“We should go check on the others.”

My head bobs in agreement, and he lowers me down to the ground. For a moment, neither of us moves. Then I let my fingers brush his as we leave the tree cover and head toward the house. Jocko comes up, and Kiya is right behind him. Stark keeps walking toward the house without looking back.

“Did he tell you what was wrong? Why are you wearing his shirt?” Kiya asks.

I wipe the smile off my face. “I fell in the mud, and no, he didn’t. He’ll be okay now, though, I think.”

My mate . . . hmm.

The house is still full of people when we enter. I look, but don’t see Darwin. The tension in my shoulders lowers a bit. Stark is over talking with Oliver, and his gaze finds mine. I give him the smallest smirk and he returns one. The butterfly sensation wraps me like a hug. This is addiction.

Nikolas joins us for more talks about what’s to come. Everyone plans to meet at Stark’s in the next week or so, to organize an official operation against the Uprising.

“You can sleep in here.” Nikolas shows Kiya, Jocko, and me to a bunkroom. I sit at the edge of the bed as Kiya climbs up first, then Jocko takes the one below.

“Not tired?” he asks.

“I’m going to get some water,” I say, ducking out. I feel for the tingles, letting them guide me to the meeting room. Stark sits alone, staring at the painting in his hands.