Plus, over the past few weeks, Orion had suggested I move into his canyon abode more times than I could count. I was here now and he seemed glad to have me even though his duties had prevented us from spending much time together.
But his eyes darkened back to starless midnight as he told me, “If I become your alpha, I’ll accept the punishment in your place.”
That wasn’t what I was going for. “You can’t do that,” I countered, “or Vega would have.”
Orion shrugged. “It’s a bad idea, but I can do it.”
“And you will do it even though you’re admitting it’s a bad idea?”
“Alpha instinct. Wolf instinct.”
His tone was apologetic even though his words brooked no compromise. And all I could think was that he was right about the bad-idea part.
Because if Orion took my place for the upcoming punishment, his dominant inner wolf wouldn’t let him stand still and take the beating. He’d fight back, which would turn the matter into an alpha challenge.
Gabi had taught me two things about such contests: The winner could be determined by something as simple as a bird call at the wrong moment capturing the warring wolves’ attention. And alpha challenges usually resulted in death.
“Okay, scratch that,” I started. Only, Orion’s hand had risen to hover above my chin in the same spot where Chief Bellwether had grabbed me. He didn’t make contact, though. Just raised his eyebrows as he rumbled:
“I’d like to propose an alternative. I’ll scent-mark you. From the outside, it will seem like you’re part of my pack, which will provide a measure of protection. Bellwether will understand that if he goes too far, I’ll attack.”
I’d never heard of scent-marking, but there were numerous werewolf rules and customs I was still learning. From what Orion said, it seemed like a good compromise. “Then you won’t feel the urge to take my place,” I guessed, thinking the idea through. “Because you won’t be my alpha.”
My statements were intended as a request for further information. But I must not have made that clear, because Orion didn’t answer. Instead, his fingers veered a little closer until I could feel the heat of him barely separated from the heat of me.
“May I?”
My minute nod was enough to bring our skin into contact. His callouses were pleasantly rough, completely unlike Bellwether’s. I shivered as Orion’s thumb stroked the underside of my jaw. I wanted much more than he seemed willing to give.
He must have misunderstood my reaction, because he immediately stilled. “No?” he asked.
“Yes,” I countered, leaning into his touch.
Despite my overt agreement, Orion was slow and gentle when he continued. Too slow and gentle. His index finger slid across my cheekbone as if discovering its existence for the very first time. Cactus flowers tantalized then retreated as he brought his head in close only to pull it away again.
I hummed out entreaty and he was the one who found words. “I’ll rub my cheeks against yours. It won’t hurt. Won’t change your scent for very long either. A day, maybe two days if you don’t shower.”
His voice dropped lower as he explained what was coming, which is when I remembered that I had hands and volition also. “Good. That’s good,” I told him, reaching up to place my fingers underneath his chin in a mirror of his hold on me.
I hadn’t been raised by wolves and knew nothing about the scent-marking process other than what Orion had told me. But this part felt right, that I would guide his face to meet mine at the same moment he guided my face to meet his.
Electricity sparked as our cheeks made contact. Orion had shaved more recently than Bellwether. His skin was almost but not quite smooth against mine, the tiny hints of proto-stubble friction adding to the pleasure. He moved just as slowly as previously, and now I was glad of it. I didn’t want to lose this connection, ever. My breath caught as he drew us apart.
“Now the other side,” he rumbled.
This time, the shock of contact was greater. I could smell not only cactus flowers but also the heat of the desert, the subtle aromas of animals huddling away from the blazing sun, the distant promise of hidden water. This wasn’t merely Orion’s personal scent, nor even his clan scent. This was the outpack winding its way between us, ready to form the glue that would rebuild our partnership.
But Orion didn’t want that. It would make him draw back the same way he’d drawn back after our frolic in the desert. So—
“Not yet,” I whispered, and this time Orion was the one who hummed wordless inquiry. Who started to pull his cheek away from mine.
I clung on tighter despite the fact my hand had migrated up to his hair and was likely pulling painfully. Orion didn’t complain. And the outpack, for once, obeyed me. Its scent settled and retreated as we stood like that for one long moment, Orion’s cheek pressed up against my cheek.
When I forced my fingers to let go at last, I didn’t just smell like cactus flowers. I smelled like Orion.
I smelled like the man I wanted as my mate.
There was no time to bask in our connection, however. Instead, there were final protective measures to be put into place around the bunker where innocents were hidden, plus the issue of Gabi to be delegated.
Because my ex-mentor was due to arrive not long after the hour Bellwether had chosen for our meeting. If we didn’t want to give her time to set up a trap, someone needed to relay a rendezvous location at the last possible minute, choosing a spot Orion and I would be able to get to on very short notice. After all, who knew how long Bellwether’s punishment might last and whether I’d be up for travel after it was complete?
“You’ll take care of the matter?” Orion asked Donovan when the latter wheeled himself back into the gym for a final confab.
“Of course.”
“Any word on Finnegan?”
I’d forgotten Donovan was originally meant to be the pack’s alpha until he grunted out words that felt bristly with male ego. “Under control.”
“Care to elaborate?” Orion asked, one eyebrow raising.
Donovan glanced in my direction then shook his head. “No.”
Apparently I’d been wrong about Donovan accepting my part in Maya’s capture. That might turn into a problem after Orion and I mated, when I became part of this clan I’d barely spent any time in previously.
For now, though, I stayed focused. “I can step outside…”
“Not necessary,” Donovan interrupted, his gaze firmly on Orion in what was tantamount to a challenge among dominant male werewolves. “Orion knows I wouldn’t risk my mate’s life. He trusts me to take care of the problems he’s delegated to me.”
