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KAT

D elicious savory smells waft from the house by the time my ass is frozen and numb.

Steak. My wolf’s favorite after still kicking bunny.

Finally, I stop ignoring my wolf, who has been snarling at me to eat for the last several minutes. It was her whining that propelled me to move.

It’s really annoying, you know that, right? I tell her.

She sniffs, but there is satisfaction in the sound. She got what she wanted. Snorting, I get to my feet, brushing the grass and dirt off my ass. High maintenance wolf.

She bares her teeth at me, making me smile.

I bundle Aren’s coat under my arm so he won’t know I didn’t remove it from my shoulders the second he put it on me. And also, so he won’t know that it chased away the chilling bite in the air that he warned me about. A run would have been a good idea for another reason—I’d have thick fur to keep me warm.

In the city, tall buildings shielded me from the wind. Here, the wind slices through me. I’d have been fine as a wolf, with my thick fur to keep me warm, but as a human, my teeth are chattering as I make my way into the house to investigate those delicious smells.

I walk up the decking steps, slide open the door, and I’m instantly engulfed in so many yummy savory, delicious scents I’m not sure what is growling louder—my belly or my wolf when she smells steak on the menu.

I place Aren’s coat on a chair as I walk over to the dining room, avoiding Marisa’s eye as she finishes filling a serving dish with twice-baked potatoes dripping with butter and flecked with green onion. On my way to make a plate for myself, Aren turns from his conversation with Finan and motions me over.

“Over here, Kitty cat.”

My god, he is determined to make that nickname stick on landing.

My wolf has apparently come to accept it because she no longer makes that growling whine whenever I choose sushi over steak or chicken.

“I need to grab a plate,” I tell him as Marisa stalks past me with her empty dish. Either toward the kitchen to bring more food. Or, more likely, to get away from me .

“Yours is over here,” he says, and returns to his conversation with Finan.

I’m too hungry to continue our conversation conducted over the heads of his listening pack mates, so I cross over to him and take a seat at the same place I sat before.

Aren has served himself a plate. There’s no plate for me, which is what I thought he meant when he said mine was with him.

But as I move to get up, he offers me a bite from his fork. Other than a cut-up steak, his meal is untouched. “Here.”

“I’ll get my own.” I nudge his arm aside.

“I have plenty. Eat .”

He does have plenty. The guy’s plate is near overflowing with steak, asparagus dripping with butter, and twice-baked potatoes with sour cream, chives and bacon.

Raising my eyebrow at him, I take the fork from him instead of eating from it like he seems to want me to.

Other than the slightest corners of his eyes creasing, he releases his hold on the fork and watches me eat.

I’m happily chewing my steak when it hits me how quiet the dining room is.

I look around.

Everyone is staring at me.

I look at Aren. “What’s with the staring?”

He shrugs and takes the fork from me to cut another piece of steak from his plate. “No clue. More?”

“I’m not a bird. You don’t have to feed me from your plate.”

“And I’ve told you, I have too much.”

“Why?”

He blinks. “ Why ?”

“Why do you have too much food?” I’ve seen him load his plate down with food before, but this is excessive, even for him.

“Maybe I wanted to share.”

“With me?”

“With you. Eat, woman.”

I feel my eye twitching at that ‘woman.’ I’m getting ready to snap at him when I glance at the rest of the room.

Now everyone else is eating.

They weren’t before.

Why did it feel like they were waiting for me to eat first?

I could have gotten my own plate but Aren was insistent that I eat from his.

It is strange behavior. Suspicious behavior.

My eyes narrow on Aren. “This wasn’t some kind of bonding ceremony that I wasn’t aware of, was it?”

It would be just like him to take advantage of my lack of knowledge about being a shifter. My memory of a lot of things is patchy. Maybe it’ll all come back when I remember the family I never knew I had.

More humor creeps into his amber gaze. “You have a suspicious mind.”

“It pays to be. Seriously, we’re not married now, are we?”

Still smiling, he nudges his plate of food to me, and passes me the knife and fork, seemingly accepting that I am not content to be fed like a bird. “We were married the moment we met.”

“ What !” The knife and fork remain in Aren’s hands because I’m not taking them until I get an answer.

“We are mates, Kat,” he explains. “In shifter law, that means we’re married.”

I continue to stare at him.

“If it makes it easier, think of it as a marriage of souls,” Finan offers.

I shake my head as panic invades my mind. “No, it doesn’t make it easier.”

It makes me wonder what is happening in my mind and body, because before I left Burning Wood, after saving Leo, Aren called me his mate, and I felt the stirrings of something come alive inside me.

What if I go back to the city and I start to… miss him?

I stare at him in horror.

He’s back to talking with Finan.

As if he feels my attention, he glances at me, then the knife in my hand and ever so slightly leans away. “What? You’re not going to stab me, are you?”

“No,” I say faintly.

But it depends.

His eyes dip to the knife and fork in my hands and I understand why he doesn’t believe me.

I’m gripping them like weapons and as if I mean to do him harm.

I loosen my grip, and he returns to his conversation with Finan.

I do not return to my delicious steak dinner. My wolf is unhappy about that, but her unhappiness can wait.

For the first time, I have serious boy problems and I need to talk about them with someone, but who?

Finan? He’s loyal first to Aren. Would he tell me the unvarnished truth?

A woman grumbles something, and I glance over at her.

Leo’s mom is trying to keep Leo in his seat and he’s squirming like sitting still to eat for ten minutes requires a patience he doesn’t possess.

She might tell me something I need to know, but this is hardly the time to do it.

My eyes move on.

Joy and Emilio are sitting opposite each other, leaning toward each other as they eat.

Joy might tell me what I need to know, but she’s Aren’s enforcer, which means she’s loyal to him. If he didn’t want me to know something, he’d tell his enforcers not to say a word, and no matter how much they might like me, they wouldn’t tell me a thing.

An Alpha’s word is law.

Gregor might tell me, but he’s too much like my teacher to ask him the things I need to know. I need someone who will be blunt. Someone who has no reason to lie.

Then it hits me.

The perfect person.

I put my cutlery down and get to my feet.

Aren’s eyes snap to me as he abandons his conversation with Finan. “Where are you going?”

“The bathroom.”

I walk out, but even as I cross the room, I feel his eyes boring a hole into my back.

* * *

The kitchen is easy to find. All I have to do is follow the smells down a short hallway until a partially open door comes into view. I push the door open and it reveals a large, rustic and stainless steel kitchen that any cook would love.

I don’t cook, but even I can appreciate that everything a cook would ever need is right there.

Only a handful of people are in the kitchen, busy working in different sections.

I walk across the room to reach the person I was looking for.

“Aren said we’re fated mates. Is that true?”

The woman currently scrubbing pots in the kitchen twists around to glare at me. “Excuse me?”

I cross my arms and lean toward her, lowering my voice so the rest of the women in the kitchen won’t hear so much of our conversation. “I need to know if Aren is lying about whether we’re mates.”

She stares at me. “As if today hasn’t been long enough.” She returns to scrubbing. “Why me?”

The kitchen workers glance at me, because clearly, they can still hear every single word. I don’t know why I thought they wouldn’t be able to when I know how sharp a wolf’s ear can be. Wishful thinking maybe?

“You have no reason to lie to me. Kill me? Maybe. But not lie to me.”

I watch her finish scrubbing a pot, then stack it alongside the others.

For several seconds, she stares into the metal sink of bubbly water.

“If Aren said that’s what you are, then that’s what you are.”

I eye her suspiciously. “Because he doesn’t lie?”

She picks up another burned pot. “Because he has no reason to lie about something like that. And it makes sense the way he lost his head over you.”

He lost his head over me? When was that supposed to have happened?

When he was dumping food on the floor for me to eat from?

When he wrapped his hand around my throat like he intended to choke the life from my body?

Because if that’s his idea of losing his mind over a girl, I’d hate to see what the guy looks like when he’s in love.

I consider my options. “And if I don’t want to be his mate. Is there another way to break whatever this thing is?”

She laughs until she meets my gaze, still chuckling. Slowly, her laughter dwindles, and she appears genuinely shocked. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”