18. Confessions in the Night

18

Confessions in the Night

FLOR

I had no right to be angry. But I was. Alone, in my bed, filled with an uncomfortable anger.

And a more uncomfortable sexual frustration.

I'd mated the most honorable shifter in the universe. Brand felt so strongly that our mating—which he'd referred to today as "medically necessary," forcing me to punch him in the nuts—had been too rushed. He wouldn't push me for intimacy he said he hadn't earned. He barely kissed me.

While that sounded like one of the heroes in Glen's romances, I was horrified to realize I wanted Brand to push me. I dreamed of his hands on me again, his body in me. It was making me crazy.

In my darkest thoughts, I wondered if he really wanted me. Maybe the sex part hadn't been that good for him. I thought of it as earth-shattering. Life-changing. Glorious.

He'd called it medically fucking necessary. If I couldn't feel his emotions in the bond between us, I would've doubted his affections entirely. But underneath all the turbulent currents of guilt, remorse, and longing… there was something that could even have been love.

I wanted it to be that, but I wasn't sure enough to just ask him. The tie between us was so new and thin, it felt like demanding answers might fray or break it. Brand had said he didn't want to make me feel tied down, and he'd succeeded. I felt insecure and alone, like I was adrift.

But the pack around us had done a damn fine job of making sure I knew I wasn't my own person anymore. I was mated now, not a threat. Not a potential match for anyone else. The females took pains to keep Glen and Finnick away from me, and they sat Brand and me together at all times at the social events that had exploded after our mating.

Margarette's absence at what was supposed to be a mating celebration for me and Brand had made it plain that she disapproved of my choice of mate. The scores of unmated females who came to celebrate made certain to let me know they were "personally invited" by our hostess, as "special friends" of Glen's. I wasn't surprised that she was still pursuing her main goal to mate Glen off as soon as possible. Or at least, get him laid as often as possible.

I punched my pillow, refusing to think about him and that bitch Clara. Ugh. That female needed to be slapped into next week. All week, she'd been on Glen like white on rice, wearing more and more revealing clothing every time she showed up. It made me laugh to watch the girl who'd repeatedly hissed the word "whore" at me in the hallways prove to be such an attention whore herself. But Glen seemed to like her fine.

I turned onto my side, wondering for the thousandth time if I'd made the wrong choice. Brand was wonderful, and the bond felt… right. I felt protected for the first time in my life.

But would it last? Would he change, like my mother's true mate had? Would those hands that had shown me pleasure begin to dole out pain?

He'd insisted I could leave. He'd even assured me that if I did, I'd keep my rank, as mate of an Alpha Heir.

The fact that I hadn't even been able to test for rank chapped my ass more than almost anything. After all the build-up, I had earned my new rank like all the other females at Southern did. By spreading my legs.

I needed to fight. Needed to prove myself.

Need to claw Clara's bitch face off, my wolf suggested. Her thoughts were clearer now that I was mated, but she still hadn't come out to play, even though the moon was full.

Shut up, you, I shot back.

She whined, still pacing inside our shared mind.

I slipped silently out of bed, pulling on shorts and a shirt, but no shoes. At the last minute, I grabbed my beautiful new sword. I was never walking anywhere unarmed again.

I padded down the hallway past Brand's door, pausing there on the thick wool rug. He'd insisted on sleeping outside my door even after we'd bonded, until I'd pointed out that the dark circles under my eyes were at least partly there because he was keeping me awake with his snoring. He'd finally caved, and agreed to sleep most of the night in his own room.

I pressed my ear to his door. It sounded like he'd invited a lumberjack to join him in bed. That might get old if we stayed together.

I passed the door to the kitchen and kept going. I had planned to get some water, but something was drawing me in this direction.

Something? I knew exactly what. Fucking Glen.

How could he act so drawn to me, so affected by me? I'd almost kissed him, for crying out loud. I'd felt something for him, something deep.

Everyone had thought we were true mates, by the way his healing was delayed after I'd slashed him. But it had only been delayed, hadn't it? It hadn't remained open, like Luke's wound. But it also hadn't healed, like mine when I joined with Brand.

I found myself following Glen's scent down one hallway and another, until I was standing outside what had to be his room, sniffing the air. Was he still in there with that gorgeous blonde woman, that Clara? Was he touching her?

She was everything I wasn't, and had never wanted to be. Feminine, flirty. She wore makeup and hair products that made my nose sting. But all the eyes followed her when she moved through a room, and not because they were wondering who let the unranked trash in.

I let out a sharp breath, feeling the twist of murderous rage in my gut. My wolf rose, asserting her dominance over our shared consciousness. I was only hazily aware of what was happening in her thoughts, but I could feel the physical changes as they rolled through me.

My nails began to change into claws, my eyes seeing things more clearly.

My teeth ached, lengthened.

My hand reached for the doorknob.

The door opened before I had the chance to turn the knob, revealing a shirtless Glen, illuminated by the soft light of a lamp inside the room. His hair was a greasy mess, and he had deep, dark circles under his eyes… and lipstick on his neck.

I went still, sniffing, smelling him, his normally pleasant scent soured with whiskey and traces of her. She was in this room, or had been.

"Where is she?" I spat, stalking into his bedroom.

He just blinked, not answering.

"Where is she, Glen? Is she still here?" I sniffed the wide bed. I could smell she had lain there, and it filled me with rage. I tore at the sheets, shredding them with my shifted claws. "Is she hiding? I'll call my own fuckin' Hunt on her skanky ass."

"What are you doing, Flor?" Glen asked, his voice subdued. "No one else is here. Why are you?"

I stopped, panting. "I d-don't know."

He stood in front of me, his hands half-raised, as if he wanted to touch me, but was afraid. Or felt he didn't have the right to.

"Did you fuck her?" The words escaped before I could control my mouth, and I pulled the sword out of the leather sheath on my waist.

"What do you mean?" He looked concerned now. A little panicky.

I wanted to stop talking, but my wolf was in charge, apparently. "Did you have sex with Clara, that woman?"

His eyes narrowed. "What if I did? Why would that matter to you?" He stepped toward me, and I stepped back. Something about the way he paced toward me, his steps full of intention, his blue eyes deepening, darkening with each breath, frightened me.

Thrilled me.

I had been hunted for years and had resented every moment.

But now, I felt hunted in a new way. My pulse quickening, my nerves singing with anticipation. I wanted him to chase me.

What was I thinking?

"Why would you care if she took off my clothes, Flor? Would it bother you to know that she's had my cock in her mouth? That I've been buried balls deep in her, felt her nails on my back? Would that matter one bit to you?"

I wanted to scream out, Yes! I wanted to fight him. I found my arm lifting with my sword in my hand, rage filling me. His eyes flickered.

"Go ahead," he said, raising his chin to expose his neck. "You might as well kill me fast. I don't want to go slow, like Luke will. I'd rather know the most terrifying, beautiful warrior I ever met had ended me. I would welcome that death."

"What the fuck, Glen?" I dropped the sword on his bed like it was a snake and stared at him. His neck was still extended, and the golden skin there shone in the dim lamplight.

Slit his throat? All I wanted to do was lick it.

Okay, maybe bite a little. But not slit it.

I shook my head. "Glen, what are you saying?"

In an instant, he was in front of me, inches away, his hands outstretched again, reaching for me like he couldn't resist. "I am saying I've fallen in love with you, Flor. You saved my mother. You tried to save my father. You saved yourself for years. You came out of that dishonorable fucking pack shining, like Joan of Arc. Everyone who sees you either wants you or wants to be like you. You're the most glorious shifter I've ever met. And you can never be mine. I can never touch you, have you, fuck you."

"What—wait—" Glen's in love with me? I tried to interrupt, but his words rushed over mine in a torrent of longing and self-condemnation.

"Not that I ever deserved that. I trusted my pack here to take care of you when I was at my father's bedside, and instead, they hunted you for sport." His voice was filled with rage. "I trusted my snake of a cousin to look after you, and she set you up to be hunted."

I cursed softly, and he echoed me, louder. "I trusted my mother to be a support, a role model and caregiver, not to take advantage of you, or make you feel as if you owed me a mate bond. I failed you again and again, and even though I know I'll never be worthy of your love, I still want it. Want you. I still get hard every time you pass by, still dream of biting your neck, marking you and claiming you. Still dream of giving you everything you never had, but always deserved. Love and affection, respect, fucking reverence.

"You're a queen among shifters, Flor. I told Clara that tonight. I told her you were my true mate, no matter if I can never claim you. That I long for you, even though I can never have you."

His eyes kept shifting between wolf and man, swirling with light and dark blue and black. The true scent of him, citrus and salt, swirled between us, and I leaned in the tiniest bit, drawing him into my lungs.

"Why not?"

His pupils dilated, black swallowing all but the thinnest rim of blue. "What are you saying, Flor?" he growled. His teeth… His teeth were too long. His canines had shifted.

"I'm saying…" I let my hand rise between us, hovering over his heart, feeling it pounding from an inch away. Heat was radiating off him, and I licked my lips, wanting to feel that heat on me. "I'm saying, why can't you touch me?" I let my hand rest on his chest. "What's stopping you?"

Glen took in a deep breath of my scent, his lips curling into a smile that was filled with pain. "Honor." He grasped both of my hands in his and held them tightly. "It's all I have now. I dishonored myself and my pack. I swore to you that I'd respect you, that I'd never take advantage of you in any way. And I would never betray my best friend, my brother." His voice broke. "Please don't make me."

"Betray…" I didn't know what I was saying. What was I doing here, in his room?

I didn't know, but I was sure I'd been just one more step, one more touch away from being unfaithful to my mate.

Oh, Mother Moon. I hadn't even thought about Brand at all. My stomach lurched. My wolf fled, running on silent feet to the back of my mind, tail between her legs.

"Glen," I whimpered, hating the weak sound of my voice. "I'm scared."

"Flor, what's wrong?" He gathered me in and held me, nothing sexual in his scent now, just concern.

"This isn't me," I admitted. "I mean, I've never even wanted anyone to touch me before. I sure wasn't jealous of anyone else. I don't sneak into men's bedrooms and try to convince ‘em to…" My cheeks burned with shame.

"Flor, about Clara?—"

"No, it's okay. None of my business."

"I did have sex with her," he admitted. I felt like I might throw up, until he continued. "Not tonight, but many years ago." He pulled me closer. "Are you disappointed?"

I managed to scoff. "I didn't think you were a virgin, Glen."

"Brand waited for you, though, didn't he?" He sighed into my hair when I nodded. "I figured. We spoke about it a long time ago, and he's not the kind to change his mind about the things that matter."

"Right," I agreed.

"I wish I'd waited for you, too. After I saw you, I knew no other woman would ever measure up."

"Glen, that's ridiculous." All his talk about me being somehow better than other women was crazy. I backed away, waiting to see if he was joking. He had to be. "Look at me."

He did, his gaze dropping slowly to my bare legs, lingering on my hips and chest, and then settling back on my face, his eyes banked fires smoldering. "What is it you want me to see?"

"I'm skinny," I explained. "Like, prisoner-of-war skinny. No hips, no tits, none of the things males want. And I had to cut off my hair." I swallowed a stupid fucking sob. "Which, to be honest, was actually really pretty. I know your mom likes my short hair, but it was the only thing I liked about my looks, before."

"Grow it out," he said, running his hands across my short locks. "Keep it short, shave it off, dye it purple. I'll love it any way you wear it." He cleared his throat. "I mean, Brand will. Anyone who sees you thinks you're gorgeous—I promise you that. If they don't say it out loud, it's because they're afraid."

"Of me?"

Glen snorted. "Sure, princess. Also a little scared of Brand ripping their arms off."

I tried not to melt into his touch as he kept stroking my hair. "Glen, come on. I haven't met a single female at Northern who didn't look like she could moonlight as a model. I'm not… I'm not like the other shifters here."

"Good," he said fiercely. "None of them can hold a damned candle to you. And I've been with more of them than I should, so I would know."

I punched him in the gut. "Didn't need to hear about all the candles you've lit with your dick, Glen." For a second, we both smiled.

"Let's sit, Flor."

I pulled away slightly. "Sit?"

"Just sit, though I might fall asleep. I'm exhausted, princess, and maybe a little drunk. I promise I won't do anything. Not even if you ask me nicely."

He pulled me down on the bed before I could punch him again. It still smelled like Clara, and I bristled again. "You really didn't sleep with her?"

He groaned. "I couldn't even kiss her. I kept almost throwing up in her mouth when she came close."

"Too much booze."

"Hmm." He nuzzled my hair. "She smelled wrong. Like treacle and cigarettes. Yuck."

"You smell amazing." My voice was throaty and low. "Like the ocean, and oranges."

He squeezed me tighter. "You do, too. Though different, now that you're mated with Brand."

I didn't think I smelled any different. "I can't smell it."

"That's interesting," Glen mused blearily, but his eyes had gone sharp. "You can't smell his spicy pine mixed with yours? You smell like... like a Christmas party. Cinnamon, mulled spices, and a pine tree in the background."

"Does he smell like me now?" The thought sort of appealed to me.

"He smells slightly of cinnamon."

"Cinnamon bear. That's a candy, right?"

Glen laughed and stood. "Yes. Are you ready to go back to your room?"

"Yeah," I said, suddenly shy. "Thanks, Glen. For, you know, talking me down. Or my wolf, anyway. I wouldn't want to hurt Brand."

"I wouldn't either. But I'm more concerned with you." Stepping close, he let out a deep breath. "Don't misunderstand. I'm not a saint. If there was a way I could be with you, and not damage your bond with Brand, not hurt him, I would take it. I would take you for my own, in an instant."

"I think you're pretty amazing, too." I backed out of the room, waving goodbye with my fingertips, closing the door and wondering if I had been wrong about Glen from the start. Maybe it wasn't just Brand who was honorable.

I was meandering back to my room, my hand on my doorknob when I remembered I'd left my sword in his room.I turned just in time to feel something come up and over my head, a cloth that smelled strongly of something pungent and poisonous.

I struggled, drawing a breath to cry out, but that was a mistake. A fist, or a rock, hit my gut, knocking the wind out of me, and my cry emerged as a wheeze.

I tried to send a shout down the bond to Brand, but sensed he was still asleep.

Then I was falling asleep as well, and someone was binding my arms, covering my mouth, keeping me from calling out.

I sent one more desperate plea to Brand. It went unanswered.

And then all I knew was darkness.