He looked at me, tilting his head. “There are no others.”
“Oh, I just assumed...” I let my voice trail off.
“No, I’m not ready to get back out there yet. But something about you feels safe.” He looked at me earnestly, making my heart stop. The way he said it made me believe he was being sincere. We sat there, just looking at each other.
I broke the silence. “I’d like to know more about Ria.”
He sighed. “It’s hard to talk about her. Losing a mate is one of the most painful things that ever happens to a werewolf. I didn’t understand it until it happened to me. It still hurts like it just happened yesterday.” He looked at me with pain in his eyes.
On impulse and moved by his demeanor, I went to hug him, and he wrapped his large arms around me, placing his head on top of mine. His scent and body heat enveloped me as I listened to his deep breathing, suddenly feeling an affection for him. After several minutes of sitting like that he pulled away and looked out into the distance.
“She was killed in the battle five years ago. An enemy ripped her heart out in front of me. He may as well have ripped mine out while he was at it. I tore that motherfucker to shreds. If only I had done it sooner.” He turned back to me, and his eyes had a dark, almost evil appearance.
I squeezed his hand and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He opened them again and asked, “Did I play the part of the vulnerable man with a hard shell well? Do I get rewarded with some titty fondling now?” He smirked, but I noted that his eyes still looked pained. He wasn’t playing a part at all.
I punched his arm. Damn, his muscles were hard. I wasn’t expecting his arm to be that stiff.
“Well, it was worth a try anyway,” he said, turning back toward the view and taking a sip from his water bottle.
Recognizing the punch was probably a bit too harsh after what he had revealed, I turned to him and said, “I’m really sorry, Blake, about Ria. That’s really awful. I can’t even imagine.” When he didn’t turn back to look at me, I touched his arm gently, wondering if I should do more to offer my condolences and wishing I knew how to comfort him more. It obviously couldn’t be easy to lose your mate.
He shrugged. “Let’s talk about something else. What are you studying in school?”
“I haven’t picked a major yet. But I probably should soon. I was thinking about biochemistry like my parents.”
“Your dictator parents?”
I laughed. “I forgot I called them that.”
“Seems fitting. It appears they actually do dictate every single thing you do. And you don’t even try to rebel.”
“That’s not true!” I exclaimed, but realized he might be right as I said it.
“Really?” he asked. “You’ve rebelled before?”
“Of course I have!” I replied.
“Somehow I don’t believe you.” He smiled at me, an amused look on his face.
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“Okay, tell me then—when have you rebelled?”
I pondered and said, “I’m rebelling right now by being here with you!”
“And we may as well just be back at the pack sitting around at the library with how innocent this get-together is. Besides, your parents don’t even know this is happening, so it may as well have never happened.” I frowned and he continued, “So my point still stands that your parents dictate everything you do.”
“There have been other times too!”
“So you’re not just a goody-two-shoes, perfect daughter that’s saving herself for her mate?” There was a glint in his eyes.
“I can be rebellious!” I exclaimed.
“Prove it.”
I crossed my arms. “I don’t have to prove anything to you.”
“You’re the one that’s telling me you can be rebellious. But I don’t see any proof. So, I’m just going to assume you’re being disingenuous.”