Page 189 of Howlin’ For You

She doesn’t say anything, but I can almost see the gears working in her head as her eyebrows draw together.

I take a deep breath, nerves skittering over my skin.

“My parents could feel each other’s emotions from miles away. I remember one time my dad knew my mom had stubbed her toe, despite us camping two towns over. You aren’t a werewolf, so I’m not sure if it would be the same for us.” I rub at my chest as I think about their easy bond, how much they wanted my brother and me to find our mates. I wonder what they would have thought of her. Despite the grief of losing them, I smile knowing they would’ve loved her just as much as I do.

She smiles sadly, reaching for my hand. I leap on her offering like a man starved, twining our fingers together like it could chase away all my hurt.

It comes damn close.

“Wouldn’t we already know that?” She cocks her head to the side.

I shake mine. “No. We haven’t…cemented the bond yet.”

Confusion draws her eyebrows together as she places another forkful of her dinner in her mouth. Her plush lips close around the fork, and my brain short-circuits.

How long has it been since I kissed her?

“Nick?”

“Right. Sorry.” I tear my gaze from her mouth. “To accept the mate bond, we have to cement it by... by biting each other’s necks.”

Her hand flies to the exact spot—the joining between her shoulder and neck—as if by instinct. The puzzle pieces click together for her as understanding dawns. “You bite me everywhere, but not here, despite how much you love that spot.”

“Yeah,” I exhale, watching as she gently rubs the skin there. “I wasn’t taking that decision away from you—no matter how badly I want this.”

She nibbles her lip. “That’s what you want? To be my mate?”

Shame slices through my gut. “I’d be an idiot not to, Izzy. I know what I did was fucked up, and you have every right to make whatever decision you feel is best for you. But what we have? It’s goddamn special. A love like ours doesn’t come around every day.”

Tears bunch in the corners of her eyes as she absorbs everything I’ve told her. “‘A love like ours?’”

I squeeze her hand, my chest threatening to burst when she squeezes back. “Yeah, Iz. A love like ours.”

“I love you, too, you know,” she whispers.

With that admission—the single best sentence I’ve ever heard in my life—I leap to my feet and round the table, falling to my knees before her. “I love you with everything I am, Isabella Gregory. I will fight to make up for my stupidity every day for the rest of my life, if you’ll let me.”

She leans forward, cradling my face in her hands. “Okay.”

“Okay?” I repeat. I can barely contain my joy as I press my forehead to hers. “Be sure, baby, because I can’t lose you again.”

“I’m yours,” she says, a ferocious confidence in her voice. “Claim me.”

I drag her down into my lap and take her mouth in a kiss so intense I can feel pleasure in my toes. This is right. This is where I should be.

In our house. With my mate in my arms.

“Take me upstairs,” she whines as my hands encircle her ribs.

“That’s it, petite copine. Tell me exactly what you want.”

She grabs the hair at the back of my neck, yanking my head backwards. “I want to know what that damned nickname means.”

I smile, heat traveling from her grip down my spine. “The literal translation is close to ‘girlfriend’ in French. But it’s a family tradition to call our mate that.”

Her eyes widen. “You’ve been calling me that since before our first date.”

“That’s because you’re mine and have been ever since I first fucking smelled you,” I say, letting my love for her bleed into my voice.