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Unfortunately, everything crumbled once we reached our rundown motel on the seedy side of town. The problem wasn’t the accommodations, either. In fact, by the time we checked in, I had eyes for one thing only: the bed.
It was queen-sized, just right for two people who liked each other and hadn’t been in the same zip code for an entire season. Plus, Gunner and I had shared a house with keen-eared shifters even when we cohabited, which added to my body’s frustration by quite a lot.
So, toeing out of my shoes, I took his hand and tugged him in the appropriate direction before shedding layer after layer of clothing. “Mates shouldn’t spend so much time away from each other,” I murmured, reaching over to tug Gunner’s head down so his lips were within reach.
But his neck didn’t bend as predicted. Nor did his clothes magically fly in the opposite direction the way I willed them to. Instead, Gunner’s hands landed on my shoulders...and, very gently, he pushed me away from him until I fell into a seated position on the edge of the bed.
“Gunner?” I started, then went quiet so I could hear what he was muttering.
“Allen was right, the bastard,” he growled, his words clearly not intended for me.
Allen not Edward? I remembered Edward calling me a concubine—understandable given his antipathy toward fox shifters. But I’d thought Allen liked me. The geeky werewolf certainly seemed willing to come when I pulled on his pack bond.
I was about to request clarification when Gunner finally met my eyes and offered exactly what I was about to ask for. “We aren’t mates,” he said, his simple words hitting me like a bombshell. “Well, you’re my mate, but I’m not yours.”
***
THE DETONATION EXPLODED deep within my belly, and like any wounded fox I lashed out in an attempt at self-preservation. “What are you talking about? I moved in with you, didn’t I? I let myself get beaten up by werewolves. What greater commitment do you need than that?”
“I didn’t ask you to fight my battles.”
I should have known better than to bring up the ill-fated bacon episode. Still, the growled dismissal in Gunner’s voice rubbed me entirely the wrong way.
Because I felt like I gave and gave and gave to this werewolf. Now he was telling me my compromises weren’t good enough?
Which might explain why months of smoothed-over slights bubbled to the surface with the force of a volcanic eruption. “You said you wanted me to be part of the pack,” I started, “so how exactly does that make my battles yours to take over? And let’s talk about you insisting I take you with me to talk to Ransom. As if I’m just a weak woman who couldn’t be trusted to deal with your brother on my own.”
I hadn’t realized how angry I was until I started speaking. How hurt I felt by werewolf instincts that might have been intended as supportive but instead came across as an undermining of my own authority and free will.
Gunner’s patience, apparently, had been similarly strained by dealing with my vulpine nature. Or so I gathered as he snapped out his reply.
“I don’t trust you to watch out for yourself because you don’t do it,” he spat back. “Perhaps you didn’t notice the fact you almost died on the highway this evening? I told you that rustbucket wasn’t safe enough to drive down the block let alone across the state.”
“So you want to make another decision for me, is that it? You want to take over yet another aspect of my life?”
I expected him to yell a rebuttal. Because, yes, I was yelling. Heat suffused my face while my hands shook with the urge to turn into fists.
Only, Gunner didn’t speak. Instead, he stalked over to the closet. Silently, he pulled the spare blanket and pillow off a shelf before retreating to a padded chair as far as he could get from the waiting mattress.
For my part, I headed in the opposite direction, swishing my mouth out in the bathroom while wishing I had toothpaste to cover the foul flavor of my own mistakes. Because my words—while based on reality—had been intentionally hurtful. Yes, Gunner stepped on my toes from time to time and impinged upon my autonomy. But my arguments became small and petty when I realized his only return complaint was that I didn’t take good enough care of my own skin.
Whether or not I was wrong, I wasn’t about to apologize. Not when doing so would relinquish the last shred of independence I clutched so frantically to my chest. Instead, I slipped alone between scratchy sheets while straining my ears in hopes Gunner would be the one to relent first.
And he did speak even though he didn’t apologize. Instead, he explained what Allen had guessed and what I hadn’t previously known.
“I’m going to spell it out for you,” Gunner growled, his voice tight with barely restrained anger. “If you want to be my mate, it’s a simple matter, although breaking a mate bond isn’t easy and it isn’t fun. So, be sure before you do it. Then say you’re mated and I’ll become your mate.”
That was it? I opened my mouth to release words that would have ended the battle between us by confirming that I loved the frustrating yet adorable alpha curled into a chair on the other side of the hotel room. I opened my mouth...then choked as something stilled my tongue.
No, not something—someone. Or make that several someones.
Because promising myself to Gunner meant promising I wouldn’t take Kira and flee if living in the pack became too dangerous. Meanwhile, a bond as ironclad as Gunner was suggesting meant his own pack might suffer if they were unable to come to terms with a kitsune in their midst.
My breath caught as I realized I was caught on a ledge with yawning crevasses on both the right hand and the left hand, with only one small path leading to safety on the other side. I fully expected Gunner to push me toward that knife-edge trail, demanding a declaration I wasn’t ready for. But instead, he let me off the hook.
“It’s not a choice to be made hastily,” he continued, his voice gravelly with repressed emotion. “Until you tell me to leave you, I’ll still be here.”
He was still there...and was just as heavy-handed about his urge to take over my life as ever. I hadn’t missed the fact there was no promise to abide by my future decisions emanating from the opposite side of the room.
So I did what foxes do best—I slid out from under a difficult situation. Sighing, I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to descend. Tonight, I’d recover my equanimity. Tomorrow would be plenty soon enough to figure out the puzzle of becoming an alpha werewolf’s mate.