The way he phrases it makes my soul want to simultaneously crawl into his lap and drop kisses all over his face, and run screaming into the night so he can never find me again. It’s a dissonance of free will/bonding desire, and I don’t really know how to feel about it.
This whole fated to be with each other thing is a little... much. Until Lyre had broken it down, I’d been under the assumption humans can’t have fated mates. Everyone says so, therefore it must be true—only... it’s not.
Shifting my weight so my left buttcheek doesn’t go numb, I answer, "She’s staying with me."
The words come without conscious thought or consideration of consequences. Not angry, not defensive—just a simple statement of fact. Like saying the sky is blue or water is wet.
She’s mine now. I’ll put my life on the line to make sure she’s safe. I know it from the hair on my head down to my tiniest toenails. This child has wrapped herself around my heart. Learning she has no parents had the decision cemented before I ever consciously thought about it.
Bun snuffles against my shirt, her little fingers curling. It feels right to have her weight and warmth in my lap, like she’s always been meant to be here. Children were never a priority for me. It wasn’t as if I didn’t want to be a mother—of course I do, someday—but it was an abstract future for a much older Grace.
Tiny puffs of warm breath hit my collarbone as she falls back into deeper sleep.
Caine’s eyes narrow slightly. "Then we’ll make arrangements when we return to my territory."
There it is.
The assumption.
We. Us. Together. A package deal.
My hand continues its gentle circles on sweet little Bun’s back while I choose my next words carefully. This isn’t about picking a fight—it’s about establishing truth.
"No ’we’ yet. I said she’s with me. Not us."
His jaw tightens. In the dim lighting, the shadows of his face are more pronounced, making him seem more angry than he sounds. "You don’t seem to understand how this works."
This. He must be talking about the bond between us.
"Maybe I don’t," I acknowledge, keeping my voice soft for Bun’s sake. "But I do understand I’m not property. And neither is she."
"I never said—"
"You didn’t have to." I shift the girl slightly, tucking her more securely against me even as I wiggle into a slightly different position. Now my right cheek wants to go numb. "Look, Caine. I know there’s something between us. We’re fated mates, right?"
He nods. Just one little dip of his head to acknowledge my words, even as his eyes burn into me.
"I feel it, too. But it doesn’t mean I’m going to hand over my life, my choices, and my future." I take a breath. "Or hers."
Caine leans forward, forearms on his knees, every line of his body tense. For a moment, he says nothing, just watches Bun’s sleeping form so intensely I hold her a little closer.
"You’re expecting me to court you," he finally says, like the concept is completely foreign. Not angry, just... bewildered.
A startled laugh almost escapes me, but I catch it to avoid waking the baby. "No, not exactly." I mean, we’re already fated to be together, right? It seems silly to deny it at this point. "I’m just saying we need to get to know each other. I don’t know what I’m getting into, and you don’t even know what my favorite color is. It’s not conducive to a healthy relationship for us to jump in just because of our bodies..."
My voice falters a little as his eyes gleam in the darkness.
"Because of our bodies?" he asks, sounding way too innocent for the predatory look on his face.
"You know... meshing."
"Are you talking about when I—"
"There are children here," I hiss, swiping at his face with one hand. I miss gagging him by about six inches. "Watch what you say."
"—talked to you privately?" he finishes smoothly, as if he wasn’t about to say anything about the dirty, naughty things his mouth and hands had done.
"Yes. That."
He nods. "Then I agree. Our bodies mesh quite well."
Of course, there’s the whole if-he-touches-me-I-might-die thing, but it seems the great Lycan King isn’t willing to talk about that little detail.
"Anyway," I continue, with a little more emphasis than necessary, "I don’t believe in throwing away who I am just because some metaphysical divine being decided we’re soulmates."
Caine goes still. It’s not a good sign, but I’m determined to stand my ground.
It isn’t like I’m trying to break up with him. I’m not even trying to create distance. All I’m asking for is boundaries. Building a relationship the right way. Starting from scratch.
Not relying on a bond.
Rafe’s already shown me the bond isn’t everything. If it was, he wouldn’t go behind Ellie’s back to come back to me.
The kind of relationship I want isn’t one where I spend my life worried my partner’s only with me because he’s required to be. I want an equal partnership. And—most of all—I don’t want to be powerless.
Caine’s the Lycan King. He can order anyone to do anything. If I become his mate...
There’s a lot to unpack. I don’t know if he’s going to want me to take on any responsibilities; I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t. But these are all conversations we need to have at some point, before I decide to join him and his pack.
Right?
"You chose me," he says, each word delivered with absolute certainty. "You want to be with me."
The conviction in his voice makes my breath catch. It’s not a question, not even a statement seeking confirmation. It’s a foregone conclusion in his mind. A fact as immutable as gravity.
"I am drawn to you," I say softly, carefully. It feels like walking through a minefield, and I’m worried he’s going to take my words the wrong way. "But I don’t know if our future is feasible yet."