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I move closer, keeping my hand on the stone.

“I have to tell them what happened. All of it, from when I followed that trail. Keer knows my wolf’s gone, but he only got half of it today. The rest of them haven’t heard any of it. They need to know what the humans are putting on their weapons.”

“And after you’ve told them?”

I look at his bare chest, then make myself look higher. “Will you come with me?”

He doesn’t answer. His hand’s still beside mine on the stone.

Fuck. I’ve just asked him to walk into a wolf pack, and my brother was hanging off his leg by the teeth this morning.

“I just need to see them. Mel, the children—all of them. I need to sit down with them and tell them myself.”

He keeps looking at me while I pull at my cuff.

“And Keer will have trousers on. I’ll insist.”

He steps closer and lifts his hands, and I’m still going.

“You wouldn’t have to tell anyone about your family, or this place. That’s yours to—”

He takes my face in both hands, and I shut up. He’s holding the claws out past my ears, and one thumb’s right under my eye.

“Kestria. I’ll come with you.”

I hold on to his wrist with my good hand, below the wrap. He can’t mean that.

“To the pack?”

“Wherever you need to go. I’ll come.”

He does mean it. His thumb moves over my cheek, and I turn my head and kiss it. Then I pull at his wrist until he bends down.

He kisses me hard, and I get my hand into the fur at his neck. He’s already pressed right up against me, and I keep pulling him down anyway.

My hip catches the edge of the preparation stone.

“Ow. Move.”

He turns us away from it and goes straight back to kissing me. I follow him around the hearth, catching his lower lip when he bends again. The fang brushes my mouth, and I kiss him beside it.

We get as far as the wall by my pallet. His hands close at my hips, and I go up on my toes to meet him.

He barely lifts his mouth off mine. “Up.”

I hang on to his neck with my good arm while he lifts me. His breath catches when the weight goes onto his bad leg, but he just shifts to the other one. The leg can wait. He pulls me in with one arm high behind my back and a hand under my thigh, claws turned away from my bare skin.

The wall’s behind me, but his arm’s taking it instead of my sore back. I get my knees up against his sides, minding the fresh scratches, and kiss him again.

He growls against my mouth. I feel it all through his chest and pull him closer by the fur.

Then he stops kissing me.

Not again.

I try to follow, but he pulls back far enough to see my face. He’s breathing hard, and both his ears are tipped forward.

“Will you be my mate?”