Suddenly she was on her feet, all five foot nothing of her, and she was shooting him her own death glare. “Did the first man and woman created know what the hell they were doing? Did Adam have any clue how to touch Eve or show her how he felt about her and did Eve know how to reciprocate? Probably not! But they freaking figured it out because, oh wow, look around the entire world and see all of the people walking around. They all had to come from somewhere and, guess what, apparently they figured it out too. Do you think I am incapable of learning? Do I need to be talking to someone else about this? You are supposed to be my mate. Do you want some other male to teach me?”

His wolf surged forward and his hand phased into a paw with long, sharp claws and fur. He snatched up the nearest thing, a lamp, before he’d even realized it and hurled it across the room. The lamp shattered into a thousand little shards as it crashed to the wall and fell to the floor. “Never speak of being with another male in front of me. I would kill a man for even thinking of touching you. That is something you need to understand. You are mine and I will not share you, no matter how pissed off at me you get.”

“You may think that I am this poor, naive little girl, but I’m a grown woman. Maybe I’m ignorant in some ways, but I’m grown nonetheless and you will respect that and acknowledge it or I will walk away. I was a prisoner for eleven years and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be one again. Not in any way.”

Drake didn’t understand where this was coming from or why it was so important to her. They’d only known each other a week and he figured she’d want to get to know one another better before they even started kissing, but she just kept pushing. “Why?” He was attempting to focus on that question so that he could distract his wolf from the fact that their mate had just threatened to leave them. If he allowed himself to dwell on that he was pretty sure that he’d destroy a hell of a lot more than a lamp. Maybe anger management classes were something he should look into.

“What?” she snapped, caught off guard by the question.

“Why?” he repeated. “Why do you want this so badly? Why do you want something you don’t know anything about?”

Bethany threw her hands up in the air and began pacing back and forth in front of the couch with quick little steps. She felt as though standing still had suddenly become beyond her ability. “Why? Are you freaking kidding me? You feed me this bull about your kind, your species,” she spit the word at him. “Needing touch, needing closeness, because it’s so important and necessary and yet you hardly ever touch me. You feed me all this crap and then question why I want to be touched. For eleven years the only time I was touched was when they fed from me. The only touch I’ve known was violent and vile. My skin crawls every time I think of it and every time I shower I scrub myself raw hoping that I can get the feel of their cold flesh from my own. Why? Why?” Bethany laughed a humorless, empty laugh. “Can you imagine living for eleven years without a hug, without a pat on the shoulder, without a squeeze, a nudge, even a handshake? Why does anyone need touch, Drake? Canis lupus aren’t the only ones who need to feel wanted, needed, loved, desired. Those are human needs too.” She glanced over at the clock on the wall and when she looked back at him her face was devoid of the emotions that only moments ago were written all over her.

Dread filled Drake’s stomach as Bethany took a backward step toward the door. “You know what? Just forget it. I don’t want your hands on me. In fact, you aren’t allowed to touch me.”

“Bethany, don’t,” he warned.

“You forfeited that right when you decided I was too stupid to understand my own feelings and wants and needs. Do not attempt to touch me, Drake.”

“Don’t say that,” Drake said his anger turning to desperation. “You don’t understand how our magic works. You have to be careful with your words. Take it back.”

“No.”

“Bethany, take it back. Now.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared back at him defiantly. “No. It’s my body and I decide who touches it. I don’t have to endure unwanted hands on me anymore. And your hands are most definitely unwanted. Now,” —she glanced at the clock again— “I have somewhere to be.” She turned on her heel and marched toward the door. Her back was ramrod straight and her shoulders pulled back proudly.

“What do you mean you have somewhere to be? Where are you going?” Drake hurried after her.

“Out and none of your business.”

“It is my business. You are my mate. I have every right—”

“NO,” she growled, turning swiftly as she opened the door. “You gave up your rights to me when you decided I was incapable of knowing what I wanted or needed because I was too young-minded. I’d rather be without you than to be made to feel like a naughty child for expressing my desires. I would rather be alone and believe me, Drake, that is something my simple, young mind can comprehend. I’ve got alone down to an art form.”

The door slammed behind her and he was left staring at the spot where she’d been. What had just happened? How had things gone from him touching the marks on her leg to her forbidding his touch and then leaving? And where the hell was she going and with whom?

It took a strength he didn’t know he possessed to open the door and walk out calmly. He followed her trail until it ended at the library and there he stood, careful to stay out of the way of any vents that might carry his scent inside.

She was angry with him, fine. But she wasn’t leaving him. Not when she hadn’t even given them a real chance. If he had to follow her around like a miserable puppy, then that’s what he’d do.

Chapter 9

“Never underestimate the strength of solidarity found in a pack of women. It can put a pack of wolves to shame any day of the week. Poor, poor, little male fur balls. The Great Luna help anyone that hurts one of our girls. We will de-man you, de-fur you, de-pride you, and de-anything else we can think of to remind you that we will not be silent, passive mates bending to your every whim. Get over yourselves, dudes. Contrary to what you think, you are not all that. You’re just flea-infested, overbearing, pompous jackasses. Hot? Yes. Sexy? Yes. Irresistible? Sorry, but no. And because we care so much, we will gladly bring you down several notches from the high horses you sometimes put yourselves on. Courtesy of your friendly female pack leader.” ~Jen