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Tell me about you?
A simple enough question. The answer was anything but. By telling her anything, he was breaking a fundamental rule of his kind. “We’re a species, like human.”
“So, no being bitten and turning into a werewolf?”
He shook his head, able to dispel that myth. “That shit only happens in fiction and Hollywood movies.”
“No urge to howl at the moon?” The teasing tilt of her lips, the way she threw her head back and mimicked a bad howl, made him chuckle, something he’d have believed impossible seconds before.
It wasn’t that she was making light of the situation or denying the seriousness of it. Humor was her way of coping, so it didn’t overwhelm her.
“I enjoy a good howl, like any other self-respecting wolf.”
“Wait.” She held up her hand, head tilted to one side as she studied him. “Was that a…a joke?”
He shook his head, biting the inside of his mouth to keep from smiling. After all, he had a reputation as a badass to protect. “We don’t need the moon to shift.”
“I guess not.” She dropped a crust of toast back onto the plate and pushed it away. “Otherwise, you and Pietro wouldn’t have had a wolf fight.”
He eyed her plate, wondering if he could prod her into eating more. She’d managed about half of the toast. Better than he’d expected, all things considered.
“We share a lot with our wild counterparts. We live in packs or tight-knit communities. Historically, most prefer rural areas. That’s changed dramatically in the past hundred years or so. There are enclaves in many major cities. Each group has an alpha leader whose job is to keep the rest in line. We’re half human but our animal instincts are a huge part of us.”
She traced a nonexistent pattern on the tabletop. “Does your kind often go around killing humans?”
The question was valid, but her use of the phrase “your kind” made him inwardly flinch. “It’s highly discouraged. As a species, we’re stronger, our senses are more developed. On average, we live longer, typically double the lifespan of humans. Up to around two hundred years. That complicates things, especially in today’s world.”
“Okay, that’s a lot to process.” She pulled her feet onto the edge of her chair and wrapped her arms around her knees. It wasn’t the first time she’d done it. It was as though she was trying to make herself smaller.
“Humans outnumber us by a massive margin. Birth rates are lower among wolves. Probably nature’s way of controlling the population since we do live longer. If humans truly believed in us, it wouldn’t be pretty.” There had been times throughout history his people had come close to being hunted to extinction.
She shuddered. “It would be horrible.”
“Wolves like Cardelli are a problem. Like humans, we have those who believe the rules don’t apply to them. If their alpha can’t control them, if they leave the community and become rogues, they become a liability.”
“Did your alpha send you after him? Is that why you’re in New York?”
Everything inside him rebelled against telling her the truth. The cold remoteness that came over him during battle settled upon him. His senses sharpened. He could see every individual eyelash that highlighted the beauty of her pale eyes. Her skin was smooth with a hint of color in her cheeks. He scented the mint toothpaste she’d used, the food she’d eaten, antiseptic, and a hint of soap.
“Devlin?”
His staring was making her uncomfortable, but damned if he could look away. “No one sent me.”
“Are you—are you a rogue, like Pietro?” If her knuckles grew any tighter she was going to snap a bone.
“Not like Pietro, but I have no pack. Not anymore.” He’d put his childhood behind him decades ago, but echoes from the past whispered in his ear—unworthy, killer, abomination. For as much as the packs depended on the lone wolf, they shunned him. No wolf—whether the human or animal variety—wanted someone like him around. He fit nowhere in their ranks.
“I’m sorry you’re alone. I know what it’s like to not be wanted.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d expected her to bolt, not offer understanding. “I’m the white wolf.”
“You said that before, like it has some special significance.”
Restless, he stood and held out his hand. “If you’re done eating, let’s sit somewhere more comfortable.” Without a word, she closed her fingers over his. He led her not to the living room but upstairs to the bedroom. Once she was seated on the bed, he stepped back and leaned against the wall, distancing himself from her. Even after all these years, it hurt to think back to the day his entire life changed.
“I was born into a pack. Had parents, packmates. Then I turned fifteen and made my first shift.”
“Does it hurt?” She chewed her bottom lip. He wanted to kiss the small hurt.
