Page 96 of The SnowFang Secret


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I pulled back. “No.”

“Summer.” His voice was soft by my ear.

“He isn’t dead yet.”

“We both know he believes he’s already dead, and wants you to accept that.”

Was his next step to tell me I was beingclingy? My voice twisted, raw and wretched. “Then accept I’m grieving.”

He still didn’t release me. His entire body pressed along mine,bendinginto mine so I couldn’t avoid him. “I would accept that if you didn’t flinch in public. For a she-wolf who works so diligently to be ready for danger, you neglect this training.”

The logic wormed its way into my brain. Nobody approved of how he and I didn’t… cuddle. Nobody approved that we didn’t smell of sex or lust or I rejected him being close to me. Nobody approved of how callous he was at times.

We were a very visible mess…

“Is this really so terrible?” he whispered. “Me holding you?”

I yanked my mind back from the edge of contemplation. My throat squeezed with grief and shock. “Stop.Stop.”

He relented and stepped back. “Breakfast, then.”

A shiver, then a shudder, then a tremble all in quick succession. Rattled, I agreed to what the request. Or demand. Not sure which it was. “Breakfast.”

“You permitting me to feed you is a start. I’ll take it.”

Another tremble. He tried to take my hand, I evaded and followed him down to the first floor.

We passed Timothy on the way, who asked, “Where are you two going?”

“She’s coming to see the mill,” Searle replied.

Timothy gave me a concerned look, like he didn’t believe I could possibly want to see a feedmill.

“I’ve never seen a feedmill,” I said.

Timothy glanced between us, then settled on me. “You sure you don’t want to try to get breakfast here?”

“I’m sure I’m not welcome.” It was risky discussing this. “Don’t get involved.”

“Iaminvolved. You’re one of my packmates.”

“Are you implying something?” Searle demanded.

“Am I?”

Yes, Tim wasdefinitelyimplying something, but it was lost on me what it was.

“I,” Searle growled, “am doing myjob. Which is feeding and tending tomy mate.”

Tim leaned closer. “Sure you are. And there’s nothing in it for you? You’re so fucking transactional it’s disgusting.”

Searle growled. I shoved between them. “Okay, okay. Everyone’s a little hangry.”

Tim spoke over my head. “You wonder why the pack’s gossiping? It’s not because you’re not fucking. It’s because you’re too ass-hurt she didn’t swoon into your arms you can’t be bothered totryto convince her.”

“Okay, everyone’s alothangry.” I shoved my hand into each of their chests, but they were both quite a bit taller than me, so I was just getting squished between three hundred and something pounds of angry dominant werewolf warrior male.

“And you’d like the chance to show me how it’s done?” Searle’s voice was soft venom.

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