Page 82 of Taming His Vampire Mate

“And if you’re attacked during the day?”

“Wolves hunt at night,” Jeremy said, avoiding my gaze. “And never on the dark moon.”

“By which you mean you’re defenseless unless the moon’s visible?”

“Everyone in the pack is trained in weapons,” he countered. “And basic first aid. Me included. Wolves are far from defenseless.”

Though I didn’t want to, it was easy enough to follow that train of thought to its conclusion: wolves were supposed to fight monsters. And Jeremy would likely spend the rest of his years guarding some small mountain town with his own life. Which, given how limited his supernatural healing was, might not be all that long.

“The moon often rises before it gets dark—”

He shook his head. “The sun’s light is too strong. It drowns out the power of the moon. I can’t usually shift during the day. Not until twilight. Even then, it’s harder until it’s fully dark.”

“You’re supposed to tell me something that won’t make me fly off the handle.”

“I’m never going to lie to you. You should know that by now. You can expect nothing but honesty from me.”

“But you’re only immortal sometimes!”

“I’m not immortal at all. Wolves are mortal creatures. We live and we die, like almost everything else. We age slower than humans, sure. But I’ll get old too. Eventually.”

The bone-deep fear in me made it obvious how I felt. Jeremy hadn’t been killed. This time.

And the idea of him dying was already impossible to fathom. Like imagining a star collapsing in on itself, obliterating everything when it did. Even though he’d almost died twice this week alone—both times because of me.

“I didn’t, though.”

“Stop reading my thoughts.”

“They’re louder when you’re emotional,” he said mildly. “They kind of echo, actually.”

“I’ll have to stop being so emotional, then.”

Jeremy’s mouth curved into a lopsided, tentative smile. “Good luck with that. You’re about the most emotional creature I’ve ever met.”

The outrage must have been plain on my face, because he shook his head and added, “No—you don’t get it. That’s agoodthing. It’s part of why I—”

He stopped abruptly, the tips of his ears reddening. He sucked in a breath, then let it out.

“It’s why I can admit I was wrong,” he finished, though I was sure we both knew that wasn’t what he’d been about to say. “For the record, I’m sorry for what I said in Rookwood. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it yet, but I figure I ought to. I was wrong about you. And about vampires in general. I was raised to think a lot of things that aren’t true.”

“They sometimes are,” I said, gesturing to Quinn’s unconscious body.

“Not for long,” he countered. “After he meets his mate, you’re going to spend your eternity saving people just like him. You’re going to be giving them their lives back. Because that’s who you are.”

Tears pricked my eyes, and I felt a flash of furious indignation. “If you make me cry again, I swear to everything holy I will beat you senseless with Quinten’s unconscious body.”

He smiled, so apparently my threat wasn’t believable. “Sorry.” His gaze lingered on my mouth. “Thierry, I’d like to kiss you.”

He looked so earnest, so guileless, but still masculine and utterly beautiful in the moonlight. His eyes seemed to catch gold, as if man and wolf were both watching me.

I swallowed, off-kilter at the question. Not opposed, though. Quite the opposite.

“You didn’t ask permission before.”

“And neither did you,” he said. “But I’m asking now. Is that something you want? Because I won’t do it until you use your words.”

“Yes.” The truth of it hit hard and clear. It was something I’d felt since Rookwood, maybe even since first seeing him in the council chambers. “Yes, Jeremy. I want you to kiss me.”