An hour into the drive, Brock felt like himself again. He could breathe easy and not use all his focus to keep himself from changing.

It was a natural response to stress. There was nothing more relaxing than a four-legged run through the woods. On top of that was the need to chase after his mate.

She had a good hour head start by the time he realized she’d left. He stayed by the beach, trying to give her the space she wanted. Not easy when every instinct he had was pulling him to strip her down right there between the water and the woods.

He’d spent the last seven days watching over her helpless, sleeping form. Rebecca assured him she’d be fine, but how could she not be worried? Her daughter was in a coma.

That’s intense shit, for even the most carefree parents. She hadn’t had to watch two people she loved die in their sleep.

Of course, it sounded as though Rebecca was getting exactly what she wanted. Stupid woman.

If Brock had to choose a new mate, Elsie would’ve been at the top of his list even before he knew of her supernatural connections. But there was a reason Brock remained single for the last fifty years.

The wolf queens never lasted long. His mother and first mate had already been destroyed by whatever magic hung over that throne.

But Elsie was different. She wasn’t a shifter. There was no chance of her taking Marella’s power. No reason to worry she might die. The dreams would’ve started by now if she was in danger.

He shouldn’t have let her run off. He should’ve made her sit down and listen to all the baggage he came with. Who was he kidding? If he’d stopped her, he wouldn’t be talking with her. He would’ve gone right back to pressing her back up against that tree.

Damn it. He needed to start thinking with his brain and not other parts of his body.

The rest of the drive back to the cabin was a tug-of-war between his thoughts. Half of him wanted to be happy his new mate was smart and beautiful and more than capable of dealing with his crazy family.

The other part of him wanted to lock her away to ensure no harm ever came to her. But the problem with finding a strong woman as a mate was that they generally didn’t enjoy being locked away.

It was four in the morning by the time he pulled into the driveway. Elsie had slept the entire time, but he watched her closely for any signs of distress.

Luckily for his sanity, she never once cried out or made any other telling signs of unsettling dreams.

They had made a detour to her house to pack a bag of stuff for her. She agreed that it would be best for them to avoid the office for a few days. After all, they were as good as married and hardly knew each other. A little time away would be good.

For Elsie, a little time away meant a lot of luggage. She had a completely separate bag just for makeup and other beauty products. When he’d tried to point out that they wouldn’t be gone longer than a week, she wouldn’t hear it.

She pointed out that curious wolves and family members would be crawling out of the woodwork to meet her. She was sure he would want his mate looking her best.

To him, she looked fine just like she was. Her clothes might be baggy, but he knew she had a fantastic body. She had a face that didn’t need makeup. Women would pay millions of dollars to be able to look how Elsie did effortlessly.

When she put the extra effort into her hair and makeup, she looked as if she just stepped off of a magazine cover. Her skin seemed to glow in the sun, and her bright eyes almost looked photoshopped.

No doubt about it. She was a stunner. Just one more example of how she could be a great queen, assuming his wolves ever accepted her.

Brock gently put his hand on her shoulder and her eyes fluttered open. She blinked a few times, searching for a way out of the daze that came with being suddenly pulled from sleep.

“We’re back,” he said.

She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands. “Okay,” she muttered.

He let her find her bearings as he grabbed her bags from the trunk. When he walked back to the passenger side, he said, “I’d carry you, but my hands are kind of full.” He raised the bags up a couple inches to emphasize.

She pulled herself out of the car. “I can walk.”

He held up an arm and motioned her to lead the way.

She made it inside and halfway up the stairs before she stopped and turned to look at him. “Are you just doing this to stare at my ass?”

“I am carrying all your stuff,” he pointed out.

She scoffed. “And you’re a king. God help us all,” she muttered as she continued to the bedroom she slept in during her bonding coma.

“Not there,” he whispered, not wanting to wake anyone. He used his head to motion to a room farther down the hallway.

He moved past her to set down a bag, opening the door, and she followed. This room was bigger than the one she’d spent the past week in. Though the room was dim at the moment, with only one light on, there were two large windows that would let in plenty of sun during the day.

A few large and intricate pieces of furniture adorned the walls with a king-size four-poster bed taking up an obscene amount of space.

He knew the second she realized it was his room. Her shoulders squared and back straightened as she turned to look at him. “What are we doing here?”

“You’re my mate. You belong in my room.” At her panicked expression, he quickly added, “Just for appearances. I won’t touch you.”

She let out a small breath and relaxed. He set down the rest of her bags as gently as possible, not wanting to startle her, before he grabbed the bag he’d left in the hallway.

He felt as though he’d just cornered a delicate doe in the woods. Any sudden movements and she might bolt, and she was already exactly where he wanted her.

In his room.

“I’m sorry. It probably seems stupid,” she muttered.

He approached her just as cautiously as he set the bags down. “It’s not stupid. I was your first kiss and that ended with you in a coma.” He smiled.

“I don’t blame you for that,” she assured him.

“What exactly was the coma you were in? I tried to find out as much about sirens as I could, but there isn’t much I could dig up. I know you were bonding to me, but I’ve never heard of any species taking that long to form a mate connection.” He stopped right in front of her. He was close enough to touch her, but he held back.

“Well, parasites don’t like their hosts to know all their tricks.”

He frowned at the word choice. “Parasite? Is that how you see yourself?”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “I latched myself onto your life force. If you were human, I’d be killing you right now.”

“But I’m not human.”

“No. You’re just a werewolf king,” she said bitterly.

“Does it really bother you so much?”

She rubbed her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. “I just—I don’t want to cause you any more trouble than I already have. I have this horrible feeling I’m going to ruin everything for you.”

Brock leaned forward and caught her lips with his. She let out a shocked gasp but didn’t move away. He opened his mouth over hers but kept his hands firmly at his sides, only touching her with his mouth.

She kissed him back and for a second it was perfection.

Brock pulled away, leaving Elsie staring up at him with a dazed expression. “You said you wouldn’t touch me.”

“I lied,” he said without an ounce of remorse. “I’m still trying to make up for that first kiss.”

Her dark-blue eyes met his brown ones. He tried to decipher her thoughts but didn’t have a clue what she was thinking.

“Mission accomplished.” She turned to the bed.

“I can sleep on the floor,” he offered.

Elsie looked over her shoulder, and once again he was clueless as to what she was thinking. She walked around the bed to one of her bags and dug through it.

“You’re my mate. There’s no reason we shouldn’t share a bed.”

His pulse immediately kicked up, but he didn’t say anything. She pulled out some clothes, probably pajamas, and a toothbrush. “Is the bathroom through there?” She pointed to a connecting door.

He nodded and she walked out of his sight. He exhaled a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he stared around the room. What the hell was he supposed to do?

Normally when a drop-dead sexy woman was in his bedroom, he knew exactly what to do. He knew what to say and how to act to make sure she was naked in his bed in minutes and left happy.

This was different. This was Elsie.

She emerged from the bathroom, wearing an oversized pink t-shirt with foreign writing and pajama shorts. He couldn’t be certain, but the writing looked Russian. “I didn’t know you owned anything that baggy.”

Pink crept up her cheeks and she looked at the ground. He never imagined a siren could act so demure. “I didn’t know you paid attention to what I wear.”

“You have no idea,” he whispered. He knew she was able to hear him.

“This was a gift from Roman when he came back from Russia a few years ago. He assured me the extra-large wasn’t an insult. He was just sick of never seeing me in comfortable clothes.” Her mouth curled in a small smile and Brock could tell she held great affection for her stepfather.

“That was thoughtful of him.” Elsie nodded her agreement but didn’t say anything else about him. He decided not to pressure her for more details about her family. She was exhausted and stressed. Sleep would be good for both of them. “You get some rest. I have to get a couple things done.”

He walked over to the door and Elsie stayed still in the middle of the room.

“Good night, Brock,” she said so softly he almost didn’t catch it.

“I’ll be back soon,” he warned. He would let her get comfortable, maybe even fall asleep, but he would be joining her. He would take a mile out of every inch she gave him.