Page 68 of Mate

H E MANAGES TO HOLD IT TOGETHER FOR A LITTLE OVER SIX weeks.

As feats go, this one is so Herculean, so strenuous, so immensely exacting, Koen is certain that it’ll make up for every single shitty thing he’s done during his wretched, questionable life.

He is able to control his instincts and deny himself the one thing he wants with an all-consuming, ferocious, overwhelming passion.

That, if nothing else, will guarantee him a place in his particular brand of Were heaven.

Which, he’s come to realize, requires only one single thing: Serena.

“ARE YOU BORED YET?” SHE ASKS HIM A MONTH OR SO AFTER MOVING in for good. It’s an absurd question. And yet, in a rational, detached sort of way, Koen understands what she’s getting at.

They had a rocky start. The near murders and the kidnappings and that other bullshit.

The medical scares. The fact that he had to push her away over and over, even as keeping his distance tore him apart.

Bottom line, their first few months were very eventful.

Compared to all that, the last few weeks have been strikingly low stakes.

They wake up in the morning. He leaves for his job. She does hers— remote, for Karolina, something about money or stocks that reminds Koen every day how much smarter than him she is and fills him with glowing, besotted pride. He returns home. The end.

Taken at face value, it does seem boring.

But there’s so much hidden in the crevices of their daily rhythm, Koen can’t imagine ever finding his time spent with her anything less than thrilling.

Not that he’d be caught dead admitting it to anyone, but he’s just fucking .

. . enamored, that’s the word. The way she needs to be coaxed out of bed with tea and kisses in the morning.

Her unabashed joy at discovering every corner of their territory.

The fact that every mundane little action feels new and shimmery and magic when she’s around.

And yeah, it’s ordinary stuff. Boring, he supposes.

She sits in his shop doing her crosswords while he builds her more goddamned chairs.

She makes him buy her a TV and forces him to watch stupid Human movies she grew up with, and it’s just not plausible, that the twins came back from camp having switched places and the parents did not immediately figure it out from their scents.

She chatters and mumbles to herself and tells him things, all sorts of things, funny and serious, big and small, and the more she talks, the more he wants to do nothing but listen to her.

She asks him to play the piano for her, so he finds some Bach sheet music.

She wants to go on runs, and that’s when he takes her to his favorite places, deep in the belly of the forest. She cooks, and that’s— he’s so fucking lucky.

Especially because when she doesn’t feel like it, when he hunts small game for her and drops it by her feet, tail wagging and tongue lolling out expectantly, she also acts happy and satisfied and pleased with him.

Alpha instinct doesn’t normally concern itself with external approval, but Serena . . . she feels like another part of him.

His heart, in another body.

“Are you bored?” he asks her, instead of replying.

They’re on the porch, and she’s brushing the wolf dog with some de- shedding tool she bought online.

He now sports a collar, equipped with a heart-shaped charm that sparklingly proclaims: Twinkles .

Koen keeps expecting to see betrayal in the beast’s eyes, but he seems genuinely happy to have been domesticated and bedazzled.

Koen can relate.

“No,” Serena tells him. “No. I’m not. This is everything I’ve ever . . . It’s just, you’re an Alpha. Maybe you like adventure?”

To him, it feels like an adventure. This. Them. Waking up every morning wondering if he’ll survive the intensity of his feelings for her. Seems unlikely, and yet. He always makes it to the night. “I’m good,” he simply says.

“Okay. As long as you don’t mind.” Another swipe of the brush.

“The whole boring, married routine.” Her teeth bite fussily into her lower lip.

She is so enchantingly beautiful, sometimes Koen loses track of time and space.

Sometimes he finds himself wanting to snarl at other people for looking at her.

He’s going to have to work on that. “As long as you don’t change your mind,” she adds.

Koen doesn’t immediately follow, too taken by the soft curve of her neck as she folds her hair behind the delicate shell of an ear. He considers asking Change my mind on what? When it finally occurs to him what she’s talking about, he takes the brush from her hand and pulls her into his lap.

To kiss her in the least bored way he’s capable of.

HE HAS WANTED IT FROM THE MOMENT HE FIRST SAW HER IN Lowe’s living room, on her knees to receive Ana’s hug, her hair pinned up and her expression sad. That is to say: he has wanted it for a long time, but now he aches for it. He itches.

He might even need it.

“She might not know that it’s a thing,” Saul says after Koen almost snaps his spine in two during play-fight.

“She does know,” Koen mumbles.

“How can you be so— ”

“I told her.”

“Did you tell her what a mating bite is?” Amanda asks, as obnoxiously shrewd as always. “Or did you tell her that you specifically want to bite her to finally seal the mating ritual, and that restraining yourself is driving you banana pants?”

Koen glares. “She was fucking Human until three hours ago. The decent thing to do is let her get used to being a Were before I mangle her with my meat-mincing jaws and leave a scar, for my own personal pleasure.”

“The former, huh?” Amanda smirks knowingly. “Did you explain to her the immense peace of mind the bite would give you?”

“How would that not be pressuring her?”

“The thing is,” Saul points out, “I understand wanting to give her space, but until you bite her you’ll be sullen and ill-tempered and crusty. I bet Serena’s not enjoying it very much, either.”

“Oh, come on, Saul. Be for fucking real,” Amanda scoffs. “Koen’s crusty with us, not with her .”

That’s correct. Because when he’s with Serena, he’s in a great fucking mood.

When he’s with her, she’s his . And it doesn’t matter that he hasn’t bitten her yet, because her soft throat is just inches away, because she smells like she needs nothing else but him, because she has the unspeakable ability to turn him into a creature of patience and bliss and repose.

The problem . . . well, the problems mostly occur when she’s not around.

Six weeks after all that shit with the Favored went down, for instance.

When he’s in Human territory for a three-day work trip.

The purpose is, ostensibly, to help the Humans figure out what to do with the bunch of not-yet-deprogrammed cult members the Northwest just turned in to the authorities.

Koen is a hairbreadth away from asking Lowe and Maddie why the fuck he had to come all the way here only to get roped into business that no longer has anything to do with his goddamn pack.

Until his patience runs out, and he growls, “Why the fuck did I have to come all the way here only to get roped into business that no longer has anything to do with my goddamn pack? I don’t give a shit about Humans.

Give them therapy, or send them to rot at the bottom of a ditch, or put them on an all-inclusive cruise ship— just don’t involve me. ”

Maddie’s eyebrow arches. “I would have thought you’d want to see with your own eyes the people who tried to invade your territory brought to justice.”

Lowe snorts, and Koen shoots him a Don’t you fucking dare glare.

Lowe, unfortunately, dares. “He’s mated now.”

“I’ve heard.” Maddie smiles. “I hope you and Serena are very happy.”

“At the moment I’m pretty fucking unhappy.

” Because he’s here, and Serena is elsewhere .

The months he spent away from her before were abominable, but Koen foolishly believed they’d taught him how to bear her absence.

He’s starting to realize that might not be the case.

He counts the hours and the minutes. He smells shadows of her scent in places she’s never set foot.

He’s not a restless man. Why the hell can he not stop bouncing his leg, then?

It doesn’t help, that he doesn’t hear from her more often while he’s gone. He refuses to become the kind of person who sends little heart emoji texts every ten minutes, but by God, can’t Serena shoulder the burden of being the needy one? Can’t she blow up his fucking phone?

“How does Koen’s recent mating relate to his lack of interest in Were-Human relations?” Maddie asks Lowe, as if Koen weren’t in the same room.

“Indirectly. He misses Serena. Can’t be bothered with stuff that’s not her for long.”

“Has this been a long trip for him, then?”

“Nope. Two days.”

“Two and three-quarters,” Koen mutters.

Maddie ignores him. “Is that why he checks his phone every two minutes?”

“Yes,” Lowe says, just as Koen grunts morosely, “I have a Tetris addiction.”

“It’s complicated,” Lowe continues. “Being away from one’s mate. On many levels. And the fresher the mating, the more unpleasant the distance.” He looks like he knows from personal experience.

“Does it get better with time?” Maddie asks.

Lowe winces. “Not as far as I know. Although . . .”

“Don’t you fucking dare say it,” Koen growls.

Once again, Lowe dares. “There are things he could do that would make it more bearable.”

“And he isn’t doing them because . . . ?”

“Your guess is as good as mi— ”

Koen chucks his phone at Lowe and is proud of how squarely he hits his mouth.