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Panic.
I don’t respond. I stare at him, willing myself to stay in my seat and clothed.
He leans close. “You need to get your shit together, Omega, OK?”
But all I can think of is ripping my new mate’s clothes off right in the middle of the restaurant and giving everyone the best, or perhaps worst, show of their lives.
“Willa!” Rook’s sharp tone barely cuts through the haze in my head. “You’re making a scene. Get your shit together, and let’s get out of here before a local calls the cops.”
I snarl at him.
Not sure why.
Don’t much like his tone, that’s for sure, and I don’t want to leave. I want him right here, right now, so I reach across the table and snag him by the collar of his shirt. I need more of him. More of his scent on me. A scent I haven’t quite pinned down yet.
Too many warm spices in the air. Anise, cinnamon, pepper…
I lean in, taking a big whiff of him, and my fisted hand at his collar comes into sight.
Partially shifted, elongated digits with curving claws dig into the fabric of Rook’s shirt. A single claw grazes his throat, leaving a long, shallow scratch.
I release him immediately, pulling my arms in close and tucking my hands in, trying to make myself as small as possible.
“Hey, hey!” Rook says to my down-turned face. “Don’t do that. It’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. Don’t worry about it.” He presses a finger under my chin and lifts my head to meet his gaze. “It was kinda badass, actually. Now let’s get the hell outta here before someone decides their eyes weren’t deceiving them and they really just saw a werewolf lady.”
I nod and follow Rook out of the restaurant after he leaves far too much money on the table and we both head back to the Subaru.
I aim for the driver’s side, but Rook snags the keys out of my fingers and shakes his head.
Yeah, that wasn’t gonna work. I’m not about men always driving because they’re men.
And that’s the thing about a mate bond. In some ways, it is a seal of approval. A stamp that sayscompatibleright on both our foreheads.
But that doesn’t mean Rook and I are going to agree on everything. “Hey! It’s my car. Well, mine and my sister’s. I’m perfectly capable—”
“Sure. Under any other circumstances, you are perfectly capable of driving up the steep grade and treacherous trails that lead to your mountain home. But I’m not risking my fine ass if you go all werewolf-woman on me again. Fair?”
Oh. I suppose he has a point. “Yeah, alright, fine.” I didn’t like it, but it was still a good point.
Rook starts the engine and pulls out onto the main road. “So, how long have you been partially shifting like that? Was it before Claudia gave you our knowledge base?”
It was before that. Definitely.
Wasn’t it?
“I don’t really want to talk about it, OK?”
“Yeah, I get that. But you need to talk to someone about it, or someone might get hurt.”
That’s not true. I’d only ever shifted to help others.
That is, until this last time.
I have no idea what that’s about.
But, in an effort to get to know my new mate better, and change the hell out of the subject, I take his hand in my regular Willa palm and start grilling him.
“Favorite color?”
