Page 49 of A Clash of Moonlight
Does he know? The text came less than a minute after hers. Maybe he’d been thinking about her too.
No, she typed back. It’s not that.
Would you know if it was?
He’d be knocking down my door or yours.
She waited for a response. And waited. And felt stupid. She shouldn’t be wasting time texting back and forth; she should be coming up with a reason to move the meeting. She…
Do you want this to end? Jared wrote.
She stared at the words on her phone. Continued staring even after the screen darkened. That morning, he’d told her he was willing to continue seeing her even though her father would slaughter him. She didn’t know what to do with that information. This was supposed to be a temporary, physical thing. She wasn’t supposed to think about him when they were apart, she wasn’t supposed to ask questions about his activities, and she certainly wasn’t supposed to seek out his opinion on anything.
But she did all those things and more. It was an instinctive impulse, something that felt as natural as letting her wolf out to roam free. Jared, a vampire and supposed enemy, accepted who she was more than her alpha did. He didn’t demand she fall into a line that was outside the pack’s regular formation. That acceptance intrigued her—Jared intrigued her—and she could spend the rest of her life, peeling off layer after layer of his history, and she would never reach the end of his narrative.
There wasn’t a flutter in her stomach anymore. It was a warm ache that crawled into her chest, that lay down beside her heart and curled around it like a wolf curled up in a den.
Nora picked up her phone. Typed in the only message she could: I won’t be responsible for your death.
Three dots appeared at the bottom of her screen. She waited. They disappeared. Reappeared.
After another minute, she set the phone aside. Maybe he was busy. Maybe he took her response for a yes, let’s end this. That’s what it should have been, an affirmation that this thing between them was over.
She grabbed another cardboard box, unfolded it, then yanked off a long strip of packing tape from the dispenser. Moving to the city wouldn’t do anything to free her from her father’s expectations. He wouldn’t force a marriage or mating on her, but if she chose to enter into any kind of union, he’d made it damn clear he required the man to be a powerful alpha. A powerful wolf.
She glanced at her phone. Still no text from Jared.
She grabbed a heavy dragon bookend off a shelf and dropped it into the box. An assortment of ledgers went in as well, then she started to close her planner. Stopped.
It was open to its monthly spread, which she had embellished with gargoyles and scrollwork. The upcoming week was busy with cash collections and distributions to local wolves, a rare in-person class for her accounting certification, and a meeting with a too-curious representative from the IRS. The latter wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, but it was annoying and part of the reason she had enrolled in the certification course. She could explain her father’s finances just fine, but for some ridiculous reason, humans wanted her to have a set of letters behind her name before they’d miraculously think she knew what she was talking about.
She tapped her finger on Monday. It really was the only time she had open on her calendar, but what if it wasn’t? What if it was the only day she could meet with the real estate agent of the town house she planned to buy? She’d have to call in some favors and work fast. Fortunately, she already knew where she would move.
She pulled out her desk chair and sat. She could shuffle around most of the meetings she had scheduled during the week—she could easily shuffle around a meeting with the agent as well—but her father wanted her to accept reality. He wanted her to be happy and the quicker, the better. Signing papers and getting the key for her new place might be the only thing he didn’t demand she skip or reschedule; it just depended on whether he was in a mood to treat her like his daughter or like just another wolf in his pack.
She clicked on the DefenSec email and typed in a response, saying that she already had a commitment for Monday and could they meet Wednesday instead.
Her cell rang a minute later.
“What are you doing Monday?” her father demanded.
“Getting the keys to my town house,” she said. “I plan to have my things moved in before dark.”
“I want this deal signed.”
“I thought you wanted me to move to the city.” She had to fight to keep her tone from coming off as insolent.
“Monday morning?”
“At ten,” she said. Then quietly—strategically—she added, “I hope it helps.”
After a long moment, he said, “Why not Tuesday?”
“I’m already skipping my certification class to fit it in on Wednesday, but I can probably shift some things around.”
“No. It’s fine. Wednesday. This will give us significant leverage over the vampires. Arcuro will hate it. Good job, Nora.”
She pinched her lips together. All she had done was what she was told, and he praised her like she was a good dog.