She could tell from Charles's nod that she'd asked the right question. "Because when he noticed what you are, he stopped bothering you to get to me-and became interested in you." He took a deep breath. "That's why he brought you flowers. That's why, when he threatened to try to woo you away from me, I had such a hard time controlling myself-because I knew he really meant it."
She decided to think about that later and keep her attention on the conversation so she didn't push him inadvertently. "Why are you telling me about Asil? Is this a warning?"
He looked away, his face back in its blank mask. "No." He hesitated, then said in a softer voice, "I don't think so. Did you feel as if it was a warning?"
"No," she said finally, as frustrated by the careful information that avoided something she could almost sense-the something that was keeping his wolf so close.
Before she could ask what was troubling him, he told her, face averted, as fast as he could get the words out. "He wanted you to know that if, in the time before the first full moon, you decide not to have me-you could pick him instead. " Even with his head turned away, she could see the edge of his bitter smile. "And he knew he could force me to tell you so."
"Why did you tell me?" Her voice was soft.
He turned back to her. "It is your right to know that although we are compatible, you can still refuse me."
"Can you refuse me?"
"I don't know. I've never heard of a binding happening backwards like ours-Brother Wolf chose you, chose your wolf and left me to follow him. But it doesn't matter-I don't want to refuse you."
The wolf gave her a clearer head in some things, but her wolf had chosen this man and made no bones about what she thought of choosing another. She was forced to push her back a little so she could get a clear sense of what he was trying to tell her.
"And I would do this why?"
Did he want her to refuse him?
Her throat was dry as dust. She, human and wolf both, craved him like a junkie just as she craved all the things he seemed to promise: safety, love, hope-a place to belong. She rubbed nervous hands on her thighs as if that would soothe her tension away.
He whispered, "I hope you don't. But you need to be told of your options." His hands were fisted on his thighs.
She smelled something sharp in his scent that she hadn't before. Damn Leo that he'd left her crippled by ignorance. She'd give her right hand to know what Charles was feeling, to know when he was telling the truth-and when he was just trying not to hurt her.
He was waiting for her answer, but she didn't know what to say.
"Options." She tried for neutrality. What did he want of her?
Evidently not neutrality. His fists opened and closed twice. Nostrils flared wide, he looked at her with hot yellow eyes.
"Options," he growled, his voice dropping so that she felt the rumble of it in her chest. "Asil will spread the word, and you'll be buried in wolves who would be pleased to lay their lives down for the chance of being your mate."
His whole body was shaking, and he leaned harder against the wall as if he were afraid he was going to try to tackle her.
She was failing him. He was losing control, and she wasn't helping, didn't know how to help.
She sucked in another deep breath and tried to let it wash away all of her insecurities. This was not a man who wanted to give up his mate. This was a man trying to do the honorable thing-and give her a choice, no matter how much it cost him. That was right, and the knowledge steadied her, and she let her wolf come back and give her the confidence she needed.
For her he shook like an alcoholic in need of his gin, because he felt she needed to know her options, no matter how his wolf felt about losing his mate. Her knight, indeed.
Her wolf didn't like seeing his unhappiness, wanted to bind him to her, to them, with chains and love until he could never think of leaving them again.
"Well then," she said as briskly as she could manage under the weight of that revelation, a weight that made her feel warm and safe while her eyes burned with tears. Mostly her voice just sounded husky. "It's a good thing there's something we can do to fix that little loophole right now."
He stared at her, as if it was taking him a while to process what she had said. His pupils contracted, and his nostrils flared wide.
Then he launched himself off the wall and was on her, his big body pushing her with frightening intensity against the door frame. His mouth was nipping frantically on her neck. He hit a nerve that sent lightning down her spine, and her knees buckled.
As a rich musky scent rose from his skin, he lifted her into his arms in a jerky, uncoordinated move that banged one of her shoulders painfully against the door. She kept still as he stalked down the hallway with her; she'd seen a wolf in rut before and knew better than to do anything but meekly submit.
Except, she couldn't help touching his face to see if the ruddy tinge on the edge of his cheekbones was warmer than the rest of him. And then her fingers had to linger on the corner of his mouth, where a small quirk so often betrayed the amusement he otherwise kept hidden.
He turned his head a little and closed his teeth on her thumb, hard enough she felt it, but not so hard that it hurt. Maybe, she thought, as he opened his mouth and released her thumb only to move his head and catch her ear in the same light nip that sent a wave of heat from her earlobe that scorched unexpected places, maybe she was in rut, too. She certainly had never felt like this before.
Even though there was no one else in the house, he closed the door with a foot, enclosing them in the dark warmth of his bedroom.
Their bedroom.
He didn't so much set her down on the bed as fall down with her, making urgent sounds that were more wolf than human while he did so. Or maybe it was her making the noise.
He ripped her jeans, getting them off, and she returned the favor. Feeling the heavy cloth part under her hands was satisfying. More satisfying was the warm silk of his skin under her fingers. His hands were callused, and though he was obviously doing his best to be gentle, they sometimes bit in as he struggled to move her where he wanted without lifting himself off of her.
With her wolf in ascendance, he didn't frighten her in the least. The wolf knew he would never hurt her.
She understood his passion because she felt the same way: as if nothing was more important than the touch of her skin to his, as if she'd die if he left her. The fear and her usual distaste of sex-even the wolf wasn't bestial enough to do more than endure what those others had done-was so far gone it wasn't even a memory.
"Yes," he told her. "Soon."
"Now," she ordered him sharply, though she wasn't sure exactly what she wanted him to do.
He laughed, and it rattled rustily in his chest. "Patience. "
Her shirt ripped and her bra soon followed it, then it was her naked skin against his flannel shirt. Frantically, she tugged and pulled at it, popping buttons and half-choking him before she got it off. Her urgency seemed to inflame him, and his hands jerked her hips into position.
She hissed as he came into her carefully, and far too slowly. She bit him on the shoulder for the care he took. He growled something thickly that might have been words-or might not have. But only when he was satisfied that she was ready did he release the control he'd been holding on to by fingertips ever since Asil had left.
The first time was fast and hard, but not too fast for her. They'd barely finished when he began again. This time he set the pace and held her back when she would have forced him to speed up.
She'd never felt anything like it, or like the satisfied peace that followed her into sleep. She could get used to feeling like this.
* * * *
She woke up in the middle of the night to the unfamiliar sound of the furnace turning on. Sometime in her sleep, she'd rolled away from him. He lay on the other side of the bed, his face relaxed. He was snoring lightly, almost a purr, and it made her smile.
She reached a hand toward him. Then stopped. What if she woke him up, and he was angry with her for disturbing his sleep?
She knew, knew he wouldn't care. But her wolf, who'd helped her through all they had done to her, who had let her enjoy his touch, was sleeping, too. Anna curled up on her side of the bed, finally rolling until her back was toward him. Her restlessness must have disturbed him, because suddenly he surrounded her, spooning in behind her. The sharp alarm she felt at the suddenness of his move woke the wolf.
He threw one arm over her waist. "Go to sleep."
With the wolf to protect her, she could give herself over to the way his body heat made her muscles and bones relax into the rightness of his presence. She gripped his wrist with one hand and held it over her belly before letting sleep grab her in return. Hers.
* * * *
When he woke her up, it was still dark outside.
"Morning," he said, his voice a rumble under her ear. It felt so good that she pretended to still be asleep.
He wrapped his arms around her and rolled over quickly twice. She managed a squawk as they rolled right off the bed. She landed on top of him, and her hip on his belly vibrated with his silent laughter.
"Like that, is it?" she muttered, and, before she remembered his wound, touched her fingers into the muscle just under his ribs.
"Quit that," he mock growled, catching her hand so she couldn't tickle him again. He sounded amused, so she must not have hurt him. "We have a job to do, woman, and you're slowing us down."
"Hah," she said, and wiggled her hip a little, making them both very aware that he'd probably agree to a delay in getting ready. Then she wiggled a little more determinedly and slipped free of his hold.
"Morning," she told him. "Time to go." And she sauntered naked out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom.
* * * *
He watched her go with appreciation, aware of the spark of true happiness that lit his soul. She didn't look beaten at all this morning-and that little sashay of her hips told him that she was feeling pretty good.
He'd made her feel like that. How long had it been since he'd been the cause of someone else's happiness?