“I’ll bet he’s happy that you smell of him,” said Roni.
Harley snorted softly. “I’m not surprised I smell of him. He rubs himself all over me every day.” Like a damn cat.
“No, I mean . . . his scent is imbedded in your skin. There’s a difference.”
Ally stood and sniffed Harley. “Roni’s right. And you know what that means.”
Imprinting had begun. Harley was shocked enough about that for it to override any other emotion she might have felt. “I didn’t think it would start unless I returned his claim.” Having been out of the shifter world for so long, she wasn’t as educated about these matters as she should be.
Ally shook her head. “Imprinting is a tricky thing that I don’t think anyone fully understands. It’s a process that, if completed, will result in a mating bond. It seems to work differently for each couple. Sometimes it begins quickly, sometimes it takes years, and sometimes it doesn’t happen at all. I was in a relationship with a guy for quite a while. I cared about him, and he cared for me. But we didn’t imprint on each other. Probably because I didn’t love him.”
“I’m not so sure it’s about love,” said Shaya. “I’ve known couples to begin imprinting on each other when the emotion wasn’t yet present, but maybe love is the kicker. Maybe without it, the couple can’t fully imprint on each other.”
“But that doesn’t account for the couples who love each other yet haven’t fully imprinted,” Roni pointed out. “It could be that a host of things need to be present. Like love, loyalty, respect, acceptance, and trust—the type of things that build and sustain not only relationships but mating bonds.”
“That would make sense,” said Shaya. “The couple needs to have the building blocks as well as the willingness to completely expose themselves to one another before nature will grant them the bond.”
“So what does it mean if I’m wearing his scent but he’s not wearing mine?” Harley asked.
Roni frowned. “If you’re wearing his scent, he’ll be wearing yours. That’s how it works.”
“If that was true, he’d have said something,” said Harley. “I’m surprised he didn’t sense it.”
“Oh, he’ll know you’re wearing each other’s scents and he’ll be damn smug about it,” said Ally. “If he hasn’t mentioned it, it could be because he’s worried how you’ll react. Or maybe he just wants you to sense it for yourself.”
“If it’s the latter, I’ve totally ruined it.” Roni slipped her lollipop back in her mouth as if to shut herself up.
“He should have told me.” Harley rubbed her forehead. “But, then, he also shouldn’t have slung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and then spanked my ass.” Recalling why he’d done that, she said, “Ah, maybe that’s why he never mentioned it.”
Confused, Ally asked, “You think he was distracted by spanking your ass?”
“No. He asked me if I was happy. To tease him, I pretended to mull it over. He wasn’t upset or anything, he even seemed amused, but he could have read something into it.”
“He’s probably just being cautious,” hedged Shaya. “I guess you’ll find out later when you make him talk about it.”
“I guess I will.”
The Alpha of the Trantham Pack leaned back in his leather chair, tapping his fingers on his office desk. “So, Nick, what can I do for you?”
So far, Jesse kind of liked the guy. Garth Whisler didn’t seem interested in petty posturing and dick measuring, which was rare among Alphas. He didn’t use his stocky build to intimidate, and he appeared to have the immense respect of his Beta and each of the enforcers he had introduced them to. That spoke well of him.
“I’m a direct person,” Garth went on, “so I don’t mind admitting that I’m hoping you’re interested in an alliance. Like you, I have a reasonably small pack.”
Nick already had plenty of alliances and, considering how many contacts he had, didn’t really need more. However, there was little chance that Garth would share pack business with an outsider unless there was an alliance between them, which was only fair.
“There would be a condition,” said Nick.
“Condition?”
Nick leaned forward in the seat opposite Garth. “I need you to tell me what you know of Hector Flynt.”
“Ah, bothering you, is he?” Garth sighed, exchanging a look with his Beta. “I’ve heard all about his hobby of pressuring shifters to sell their territory. You’re not the first to come here asking questions about him. I can only tell you what I told them, which I will warn you is very little.”
It was good of Garth to not mislead them, and Jesse could see that he’d now earned Nick’s respect.
“I’ll agree to an alliance,” said Nick.
Garth accepted that with an incline of his head. No insistence on shaking hands or anything, which made Jesse like him more.
“I wasn’t a member of the pack during Hector’s time here,” began Garth, “so I don’t know him personally. Everything I know comes from secondhand knowledge.”
“I’d still be interested to hear it,” Nick told him.
“At one time, this pack was large. Strong. Respected. Seven years ago, it splintered. There was a terrible tragedy. A girl from the pack was assaulted—raped, strangled to death, and left in a wooded area far from her territory. She was only fifteen.”