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I bit my lip. “We can go pick out an engagement ring. We’re already mated, and that’s obviously permanent. But I don’t want us to be dating, in human terms. I want us to be engaged, so everyone knows that I’m taken and you are too. I don’t know when I’ll be ready to get married, but I want it to be clear to us and the people around us that we’re committed, in that physical, visible way. That we’re together. The bite marks work for the wolves, but not for me.”
There was another pause, as I tried to remember what else I needed to say. “And… I need to tell you some things. About my parents, and my childhood. For starters, my parents were alcoholics for as long as I can remember. Dad was violent, mom was mean. It was… not a good childhood. I can tell you more, if you want, but I won’t if you’re not comfortable.”
He slid closer, and his hand slipped over my thigh. “I want to hear whatever you’re willing to tell me.” His voice was gentle.
So I continued.
I told him things no one knew. Memories that made my eyes water when I recalled them. Some of them were too terrible to relay even to him, but he didn’t ask for those. He just squeezed my hand, and reminded me that he was there.
And that he was listening.
We sat there for hours, and hours, and hours, talking about life and pain and family, and when we finally let our wolves take us back home, whatever walls had existed between us had blown away in the wind.
