He sighed. “No, because if Gabe is there, it’s once again ranger business. They can’t stop me.”
“Good.”
I drank some more coffee, and the silence stretched on for several minutes. And while there was a definite undercurrent that spoke of desire, the silence was nevertheless a comfortable one. Wolf or no, this man was happy to simply sit here, and that was something of a rarity in a world that seemed intent on instant satisfaction.
Although if I was being at all honest, a little instant satisfaction would not have gone astray.
But maybe he was still waiting for me to make that first move.
My gaze fell to his lips. What would he do if I simply leaned forward and kissed him? It wasn’t really an appropriate time, but was there ever going to be? Especially if fate continued to crap all over our plans?
I sipped some coffee, torn between desire and my natural tendency for caution—at least when it comes to the opposite sex. Eventually, I said, “Can I ask how a pack works with more than one alpha?”
Heat stirred in his eyes, and a smile tugged at his lips. He might not be a telepath but he obviously knew what my thoughts were.
“Proper wolf packs are usually one family unit. Ours consists of many family units, so naturally, we’re going to have a number of both alphas, betas, and omegas within each pack.”
Betas being second-in-command, and the omegas the lower-ranked members of the community. It was a system that ran against what generally happened with real wolves who, in the wild, tended to live in packs that centered around a breeding pair and one or more generations of their offspring rather than multiple families. “And the alphas rule the pack jointly?”
“Yes. And there’s a vote every five years for the pack’s three positions on the reservation council.” He paused. “My father and his two brothers have won that vote the last five times.”
If his father and uncles had been on the council for twenty-five years, they were either very popular or had very powerful personalities. “What happens when an alpha dies? Does one of his direct family group step up into that position, or does it go to a vote?”
“It’s usually taken by the oldest alpha sibling, be they male or female.”
I raised my eyebrows. “There’re women representatives amongst both the elders and the council?”
“Of course. Werewolves might have a macho reputation, but every family group is run equally by an alpha male and female.”
“Here’s to social equality,” I said, and repeated the coffee cup tap. “Are you the oldest in your family?”
He shifted slightly to look at me directly. Which only made it easier to lean forward and kiss him.
And I did want to.
Badly.
Especially when his very next question was the one question I’d been hoping to
avoid until we knew each other far, far better.
“I’ll answer your questions about my family if you answer mine about yours.”
“I haven’t seen my family for years, so I really can’t tell you all that much about them.”
I didn’t want to lie to him, but by the same token, I really couldn’t afford to be totally honest. Not when there was still a niggle in the back of my mind that my parents would—sooner or later—come hunting for us.
“Why? Did you have some kind of falling out?”
“You could say that.” I paused. “My hair coloring, and the little magic I possess, both came from my grandmother, who was the result of a brief dalliance with a blueblood. Neither of my parents shared her attraction to witches or magic, and they spent my growth years trying to smother the skill.”
Though I’d told that story often enough, this time the lies tasted very bitter. It wasn’t a great way to start a relationship, no matter how inconsequential it might be.
“When was the last time you saw them?”
“Answer my question,” I said primly, “And I’ll answer yours.”
He laughed—a warm, rich sound that caressed my senses as sweetly as honey on the tongue. I put my coffee cup back on the table and tucked one leg under my body so that I was fully facing him. Not only because I wanted direct eye contact, but also because it would make it even easier to kiss him.