Page 27 of Boundary

"Now, how would that be fair?" Dale moved closer to me while I wrote on the notepad, his voice dreamy and full of all things naughty. "Why should I wear clothes when you aren't?"

Peering down at myself, I frowned in confusion. "I'm in my pajamas."

"So am I," Dale smirked. "Kind of."

Now, I imagined Dale naked, and on top of me. Thankfully, I tried to take a deep breath, and pain speared me back to my senses. Gasping, I gripped the table. Sobering, Dale went to touch me.

"Don't!" Ripping off the piece of paper, I held it out for him. "This is where I used to order the birch leaf. I need a shower."

* * *

When I cameout of my bedroom next, Dale had showered and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. I groaned internally. The guy got sexier every time I saw him. "Jeremy has gone to get the birch leaf. Do you need anything else while he's in the city?"

"A new perfume. Something that stinks and will scare dogs away."

"Then you wouldn't be able to wear it. Your natural scent is intoxicating to our kind."

"Hence, the need for something to mask it. Aren't you meant to be at work?"

"You're more important."

"Don't do that."

Dale pulled up a chair opposite where I sat on the lounge. "We need to talk."

This time I groaned out loud.

"If your father raised you right, you would know the protocol for finding your mate. You would have recognized it the first time we met. My scent would calm you, relieve your anxiety, and it would also make you...amorous."

Thinking of the hankie Jeremy gave me, and the way I relaxed in Dale's bedroom. Then there were the thoughts I had of Dale and me in his bedroom.

"At sixteen, your father should have arranged your introduction to the packs. The members would have lined up near the door. As Alpha, I would have greeted you first and sniffed your neck. If I hadn't recognized you as my mate, I would have then introduced the rest of my pack one by one. But, I would have, and you would have offered me your neck. It would have been instinct, even if you were not instructed to do so. I would mark you as mine. We would celebrate that night, and then you would be a member of my pack."

"Would you expect me to sleep with you that first night?" The idea creeped me out a little.

Dale shook his head. "The mating comes when both are ready. It usually doesn't take long due to the effect our scents have on each other. Plus, sixteen-year-old girls can be quite enslaved by their desires." Lips turning down, Dale sat forward in his chair to lean on his knees. "That is the protocol. And it's done like that for a reason.

"As I've already told you, females of our kind are rare, and they always have a mate. They are also more vulnerable and dangerous to their pack. Once a female of our kind matures, her scent is intoxicating. It drives our males mad if she remains unmated. They become aggressive, fighting amongst each other to get mating rights."

"Wait, you're insinuating that how I've Malcolm treated me is my fault?"

"No! Your father caused it by hiding you. Malcolm is at fault because he should have followed protocol."

"He raped me when I was fourteen. He was never going to follow protocol!" Wincing, I regretted taking the breath.

Body rigid, Dale closed his eyes as his rage pulsed and withdrew. Taking a few steady breaths, Dale opened his eyes again. The brown pushed his indigo to the outer edges of his irises, and the gold wolf eyes suffused around the pupil.

"I believe you are right. What I'm trying to explain, is that your pack never used to be a house of brutes. Under your father's rule, they were well ordered. Even after Malcolm became Alpha, they didn't decline for several more years. But, as you matured, your pheromones became a drug in the pack-house. One that induced the men to fight for the right to, for lack of a better word, mount you."

Remembering the yelling and fighting, I struggled to swallow.

Dale's eyes intensified as he watched tears form in my eyes. "You were living in a house of drug addicts, all willing to kill to get their fix."

"But I was with Malcolm? And they didn't have sex with me, they beat me."

Dale's hands clenched in tight fists. "Malcolm never marked you, he couldn't, you weren't his mate. The mark would have festered and made you both sick. So, you were an unmated female. Malcolm's violence probably escalated because he was continuously challenged. I've heard that happened often. By letting the others beat you, it provided them with a mini-dose. Like a heroin addict at the methadone clinic. Your pain and fear would have also dampened your pheromones. Of course, the smell of your fear is like a red flag to a bull, so it amplified a different rage."

Now, I was crying. Reaching out tentatively, Dale encased my hands in his. "Malcolm brought the state of his pack on himself. I can't do it to mine."

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