Page 52 of The Crimson Wolf
He cups my chin. “Oh, believe me,I know.I doubt he sees it that way. But honestly, what a weird thing to say.”
I giggle a little. “Yeah, you should have seen him. He did the whole, “I’m going to reveal my evil plan before the good guy comes and saves the day” shit. So very stereotypicalevil villain.” Jack’s more complex than that. He’s grown up thinking werewolves murdered both of our parents. He’s been brainwashed, but there comes a point when adults must decide for themselves between good and evil, and he clearly made the wrong choice.
Cameron shakes his head before resting it in the crook of my neck. “And they say werewolves have dog-sized brains.” He takes a big breath, inhaling the smell of me. I guess being obsessed with each other’s smell is a werewolf thing, too. “Ah, my mate. We are going to have such powerful kids.”
My body stiffens, and panic rings through me. Obviously, the whole knot thing is to ensure I get pregnant, but during sex, the idea was hot. Maybe I’ve always had a breeding kink, but now reality has settled around me. Breeding means babies. Babies mean a whole new life. I’ve given myself over to Cameron. He’s my mate, and coming together with him completely made my body’s reaction to him fully connect in my brain. He’s endgame for me. But there’s so much we haven’t figured out. Are we going to live here together? Get married? Push out a litter of pups right away? I have a life in New York—friends. Am I ready to give that up and settle down here?
“Woah, woah, woah.” Cameron grabs my neck, sensing my internal panic and urging my darting eyes to focuson his. “Stop freaking out. You don’t get pregnant until you’re ready.”
“But Cameron, we just… You just…”
“I know what it feels like, but I’m basically shooting blanks until you’re ready.”
“What?” Is he on… birth control?
He sighs. “I’m sorry, I forget how little you know about us. It’s a werewolf thing. Females can’t get pregnant until they want to. Your brain controls your body. Female werewolves have amazing mental abilities. It’s kind of a version of the mind reading.”
I exhale, feeling the weight of the world thin around me. I’m not fully a werewolf, not even close, but I do apparently have mind-reading powers, so I imagine I can have the power not to get pregnant.
Cameron wraps me in an embrace. “We’ve got a lot to figure out before we start thinking about kids. Although, I can’t say my primitive male brain doesn’t revel in the idea.”
I smile. “I wish I knew you when you were a kid.”
“Yeah, I have a feeling life would have been much easier if you were around.” A heaviness clouds his eyes.
I draw circles down his arms. “What was it like—your childhood?”
“Pretty lonely. Werewolf identities are top secret since we must hide from the Hunters. My identity has been known since I was a kid. My powers came early, soeveryone knew I’d be the Human Liaison one day. None of the other werewolf kids could hang out with me. It was just Carmen and me.”
“What about your parents?”
“Dead. Hunters.” He shrugs as if it’s a typical thing.
Sadness fills me. Even though my parents fell to the same fate, it seems worse that Cameron had to experience growing up as an orphan. Maybe that’s what happens when you have a mate—their sadness supersedes your own.
“Who took care of you?”
“We got tossed around to different council members. Old werewolves that were never at too great of a risk.”
“Did you go to school?” More questions bubble at the surface of my brain. There’s his whole life I need to know about.
“Yeah, we went to McKlenny, but we weren’t allowed to get too close to any children. We were a walking hazard.”
“Oh! We used to play McKlenny in sports! I went to Howard.”
“Yeah, I know.” He smiles.
“How do you know?”
“I knew who you were, Red, remember? I always knew you as Mildred, so it took me a while to put together.”
I cringe at my name. “Oh, yeah. That’s right.” When he told me he knew my father earlier, I didn’t put together that it meant he knew of me growing up.
“I could sense you were my mate the moment I saw you in that clearing. It infuriated me. You were a New York Times reporter, threatening to reveal my people’s identity, plus the Blood Moon made me extra irritable.”
“I could tell.” I scoff.
He cups my face, smiling. “I’m sorry, okay? I was an idiot.” His smile melts a bit. “Anyways, your father took me under his wing when I was six and you were four. He was always talking about you.”
