“The professor used to say, ‘If all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.’ You’re a reporter. All you think about is a story. Everything is the story. Let them come after me. If they get too close, I’ll rip their throats out.”
She continues on, undeterred. “It costs thousands of dollars a day for a mob boss to have soldiers after somebody. And to send them on trips like what they did? There’s a big reason they want you dead. I’ve been thinking about it. You have either power or people.”
The island comes into view. I point. “We’ll stop up there.”
We pull up the canoe. She unpacks while I make a fire.
“You could have assets of some sort that you don’t know about. I wonder if that’s it,” she says.
“I’m tired of this talk.”
“I’m not. The more I ponder, the more my money is on family. You have a family. A true family. Maybe your enemies want to hurt this family or usurp some territory…”
“I have a true family. The wolves are my family.”
She sits and warms her hands near the fire. “You’re not a wolf.”
Not a wolf. Not a man.
I take her hair in my hand and pull her up. I put my lips to her ear. “The wolves are my true family. And you’re my mate, so they’re officially your family now, too.”
“Repeating it a lot doesn’t make it true.”
I jerk her softly, to remind her who is in control. Her pulse begins to hammer in her throat. “You’re mine to feed. Mine to care for.” I’ll smell her arousal soon. “Mine to fuck,” I breathe into her ear.
The moon catches her hair, giving it a soft glow.
“Mine to make come.”
“You can make me come,” she says breathlessly. “Congratulations. You think that makes us mates? A relationship is mutual. It’s about mutual trust and respect of what the other one knows and says.”
Miserably, I twist her hair, wondering if there is some man out there she has that with. Mutual trust and respect. Love. A man who’s not a savage.
“Like a fucking caveman. You don’t even know—”
I jerk her hair to stop her from talking, feeling so hopeless. She wants to leave and figure out my story. I know how to make her stay, but I don’t know how to make herwantto stay.
She looks up at me, all fire and defiance. I don’t know how to behave like one of the civilized men she prefers, but I know how to make her beg.
So I do it—I make her beg, and then I put her on her hands and knees and fuck her, lose myself in her warmth and softness.
Afterward, she collapses on her back and stares at the sky, sated. “Kiro. Fuck.”
“What is it?”
She says nothing.
“Maybe you’re hungry. I’ll get us food.”
“Yeah, that must be it. Great sex and food. That’s all I need.”
I go to catch fish.
When I get back, she’s riffled through our things. Looking for her phone. She didn’t find it; it’s in my pocket, along with the wolf keychain.
I cook the fish, and we eat in silence.
The meal is good, and there are roasted hickory nuts and berries, too. “You’re still unhappy,” I say.