It was only an hour or two till sunrise, and I was already feeling anxious having Sylvie out in the open like this. I’d begun checking the sunset and sunrise times obsessively. I made sure to check several different sources to account for any possible glitch, and also demanded Sylvie be safely indoors and sheltered thirty minutes before sunrise.
I knew she wouldn’t die instantly the moment sunlight touched her, so I shouldn’t have been so paranoid. But I couldn’t help it. Somewhere along the line, I’d gone from needing to protect her to save my integrity and honor a promise I’d made myself, to… It really was love, wasn’t it? If I lost her, nothing else would matter. There was no alternative. I had to keep her safe and happy at all costs. She’d become my entire world, and nothing mattered more to me than keeping her alive and well.
“That was weird,” Sylvie said once Aranelle left the building.
“The Alpha’s mate gets all the respect the Alpha gets,” I said.
“So that’s my claim to fame? I’m the place you put your cock when you get horny?”
I sensed the tightening of tensions in the room as every werewolf with a functioning pair of ears heard what she’d said. She still wasn’t used to how acute our hearing was and had likely thought she was just teasing me and me alone.
“You’re more than that,” I said. “Of course you are. It’s not just about sex. It’s about being strong enough to handle the Alpha. You’ve tamed me. Who is stronger? The wild horse or the small woman who manages to convince it to kneel so she can climb on its back and ride it till it froths in the mouth?”
She smirked. “Are you saying you’ll froth at the mouth for me?”
“When did you become so naughty?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Can I blame it on the vampire thing?”
“Blame what you like. Just swear to me you’ll never change.”
She wiggled her eyebrows. “Actually, with this whole eternal life thing I think I can actually promise that. No wrinkles for me, right? I won’t need to worry about you leaving me for a younger woman.”
“I’d be yours if you were gray and wrinkled as a raisin.”
“Easy for you to say, considering you know that won’t happen. What about you? Will you be my little gray, wrinkled raisin in a few dozen years?”
I grinned. “Nobody knows exactly if werewolves are eternal. People have a habit of getting themselves killed before old age can take them. But I do know my grandfather claimed to be over four hundred and he looked like he was in his early twenties.”
“What about the guy with gray hair?” Sylvie asked. “Is he five thousand, then?”
“Rourk? He dyes it.”
Sylvie sputtered with laughter. “Really? He looks so serious, but he’s over there using ‘A Touch of Gray’ in the morning?”
I grinned, partly because I knew Rourk was listening. “For a time, it was a bit of a gimmick in our clan. The Silverbacks with streaks of silver in their hair to match our wolves.”
“I guess that’s a little less dorky.”
“He’ll be glad to know you approve.”
Sylvie seemed horrified as she looked around the room and noticed everyone was obviously listening to our entire conversation. She cupped her hands around her eyes and lowered her head. “Super wolf ears. Right,” she said.
The three days leading up to our attack on the Coven were as close to happiness I could ever remember being. I spent most mornings running with the pack. I napped throughout the day so I could be awake for every moment of the night and be with Sylvie, but I also made time to check on the town and get the place running like it used to.
Pax, it appeared, had been lazy. I helped reorganize some systems and roles within the town and also put in time with the howlers until I was sure I could control them appropriately. Once I was sure, I let them join us on our runs.
By night, I spent as much time as I could with Sylvie. Admittedly, a good portion of that time was spent with our clothes off behind a closed door. The woman was a little minx once she’d let her guard down, and she made sure my naps were filled with delicious dreams of her hot mouth against my skin and her tightness gripping me in all its wonderful glory.
On the final night before we were going to move on The Coven, she sat up in bed with the sheet pulled around her bare breasts. I could still see the outline of her nipples hard through the fabric.
“You should make some time to talk to Kyla,” she said. “One on one.”
I hadn’t been expecting the conversation to go there. I sighed. “I’ve spoken to her.”