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Even if I was doing it in a world none of us had ever realized existed.
There was no question; I was still hopelessly undereducated about my role in shifter society, and fairly uncertain about how many of them I could actually fill. The question of whether I wanted to fill them was a heavy one, too.
Everything going on was unnatural for everyone involved, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t work. Itdidmean that I needed to readjust my expectations, and open my mind like my grandma had said.
And learn as much as I possibly could.
I forced myself to think back on what I’d learned from Ivaylo.
It seemed like male shifters livedfortheir mates. He expected to cook for me, and clean for me too. To take care of everything while I just sat around and read books. It even bothered him when I did the dishes.
There had to be more to it than that, didn’t there? It seemed like all the male wolves wanted from the female was companionship and sex, forever.
If that was really his perspective… I hadn’t done a damn thing he wanted.
I grimaced at the thought.
Ivaylo was adapting for me. He was trying to change his expectations, and trying to allow me to do what I wanted even if it went against his instincts. He was kind even when I dragged the bookshelf around, instead of asking him for the help he wanted to give.
But how had I adapted for him?
I had come to his world, but not willingly.
The only thing I had really done “for him” was eat his food and agree to let him watch me climax. And the watching thing had been part of a bargain that required him stretching even further from his comfort zone.
We needed to have a real, deep discussion without getting angry at each other. Without the frenzy getting in the way too, if possible.
And I needed to start adapting somehow.
Wolf shifters didn’t date. They didn’t consider all of the possibilities and make a choice. They let fate or nature decide for them, then did whatever it took to fall in love.
I had heard that arranged marriages worked really well in other countries. I could’ve been misremembering that, but what if it was true? What if building a relationship by choice and requirement made for a stronger bond than the hormones of love?
It wasn’t as if the high divorce rate made me think that love was all-powerful.
He hadn’t hurt me. He hadn’t been cruel to me, or manipulative. He would be a good husband, or mate. He would put me first, as he had proven, and he wouldn’t even expect me to do the same.
But I needed to be better to him than he seemed to desire.
Starting immediately.
And with the intimacy thing that night.
My heart was still beating rapidlywhen we reached the den Ivaylo had been referring to. He studied me beside the boulders for a moment before determining that I was as okay as I claimed. Then, he pulled me in for a short, gentle hug before releasing me.
We had to climb over a few large rocks to get inside. Though he could’ve just lifted me, he saw that I wanted to scale them, and simply remained close in case I needed him.
I was grinning when we finally made it into the den. It was the perfect size—about the same as mine and Ivaylo’s.
“There are a few fruit trees right outside. Make yourself comfortable; I’ll be back with food in a few minutes,” Ivaylo said, as I started wandering around like I had at the other dens we’d visited. Though I still felt a bit of an itch, it wasn’t too strong to ignore.
I was curious about the fruit Ivaylo had seen, since I hadn’t noticed any myself. Deciding I’d ask him to show me when we left, I started pulling the tarp-like sheets off the furniture while I waited for him.
Ivaylo returned soon enough, and I was folding the final tarp when he did. “I could’ve done that,” he rumbled, grabbing the remaining tarp from my hands. The bag of fruit and door parts hung off his shoulder, filled to the brim with the former. We really hadn’t collected many parts.
Dammit.
I was already failing at the whole letting-him-provide thing again.
