Mason had never appreciated how much could change in twenty-four short hours. The day before, he’d been fretting over his human mate’s potentially mortal injury. Just last night he’d bitten Lucy in an attempt to heal her. Now the day after and they strolled down the sidewalks of Ashtown, window shopping and people watching. Since he’d begun his campaign to turn the town into a tourist destination, there was no shortage of either.
“I think you should grow a beard like that guy,” Lucy said, nodding toward a fellow skating down the opposite side of the street.
The guy stood as tall as Mason and had twenty pounds on him. Beyond that, he sported a bushy, yet perfectly trimmed beard all the way down to mid-chest. Bright yellow dandelion flowers dotted the brown beard. He also happened to be wearing pink Hello Kitty skates.
Mason arched an eyebrow at Lucy, drawing a giggle from her. He loved the sound of his mate laughing. It meant she was alive and would continue living for the foreseeable future. He had no doubt that if he’d waited to give her the bite only a mate could administer, she would have died from Charlie’s accidental bite. He was still in awe of her bravery in the face of certain death, but it just proved to him that she would be the perfect alpha mate.
Now they just needed to actually… mate.
As much as his wolf was pushing him to claim her fully, Mason wouldn’t rush her. He had to set aside his innate alpha instincts and allow her to come to terms with a metric shit-ton of new information, an entirely new way of living. He could be patient… for a little while.
In the meantime, he simply enjoyed the feel of her fingers entwined with his and her new scent. It was her flowery aroma, only amplified a thousand-fold. They walked past tourists and, time after time, the strangers would turn their heads to watch her pass. Almost as if they smelled her new commanding power as well.
“How are you feeling?” He pulled her closer to his side.
She smiled up at him. “Fit as a fiddle. The wound was scabbed over and barely pink when I got dressed. It hardly hurts. I never thought I’d say this but… thanks for biting me.”
Her fingers feathered across the tender spot on her shoulder where he’d sunk his teeth. Her shirt covered the evidence, but Mason could feel her pulse beating just under the healing skin. She hadn’t yet shifted into her wolf form, but he sensed it building. Drew’s best guess was that her body had to fight off Charlie’s infection first, and then the transformation process would continue as any other. But since none of them—not even the National Circle—had any experience with this situation, it was anyone’s guess how long it would take for her to recognize him as her mate.
As they strolled, Mason wasn’t only “people watching,” but he was also watching people. The NC could bury their heads in the sand all they wanted, but he knew Frank Riverson was behind all the fuckery going on lately. He continually and systematically scanned the crowds, holding onto Lucy’s hand, just in case he needed to pull her to safety. Across the street, behind them, and in front of them, Mason’s own sentries prowled the streets too, watching for any sign of trouble.
“I can’t wait to bite you again,” he murmured just loudly enough for her to hear.
Her cheeks grew bright pink and she shot him a mock glare.
“I’m just sayin’,” he said, basking in her embarrassment. “I can’t wait until you feel well enough to cash in that rain check. To fuck you into oblivion. To sink my teeth into my mating mark on your neck. To join you when you shift for the first time. To run with you in the woods, our paws pounding in time on the spongy earth.”
Lucy grew quiet and listened intently, though her face still burned red.
“You won’t believe the sense of freedom, Lucy. It’s a joy like you’ve never experienced as a human. And I’ll be by your side through it all, watching and supporting you as you discover your new self and get to know your inner wolf.”
He lowered his voice. “And can’t wait to feel your body under mine. Your breasts straining against my chest. Your creamy thighs opening for me. Your heat on my tongue. To claim you as my mate, forever and ever amen. Then you’ll know what a mating bite should feel like.”
Her scent shifted toward desire. His words were having the intended effect, even though he knew they couldn’t just drop down on the sidewalk and go at it. But sowing the seeds of passion might yield a helluva bounty once they returned to the pack house.
“What do you mean?” she squeaked.
He stopped and skimmed a finger down her cheek and neck to the curve that flowed into her shoulder. She winced from the sting of the bite he’d given her.
“A mating bite shouldn’t hurt. Not in a painful way, as it did yesterday. Only in a ‘Ooh, baby, that hurts so good’ kind of way. Under normal circumstances, mating bites are given during the course of, ya know, mating.”
He pulled her against his body, wrapping his arms around her lower back so he could rest his hands on her fine rump. Lucy relaxed into him and laid her hands on his forearms, staring up into his eyes.
“So, when you’re ready, you just let me know in whatever way you see fit. Whisper it in my ear, take my hand and lead me to the bedroom, stuff your hand down my pants… whatever. I promise to blow your mind, but I won’t push you.”
Lucy blinked up at him, and he almost thought she would jump him right there on Main Street, but she finally nodded curtly and turned away. He sighed as he followed, but he didn’t lose hope. She would be his, of that much he was certain. It was only a matter of time.
“I’m starving,” she finally said.
“I’m not surprised. Your body is undergoing a massive change. That’s bound to make anyone hungry. What’ll it be? A big ol’ country breakfast? A burger and fries? It is just about lunchtime.”
Lucy shook her head and stared at a neon sign that featured a giant ice cream cone across the street. “Ice cream.” She grinned. “A mountain of it.”
Mason smiled in return. “You got it.”
Once the street was clear of vintage Citro?ns, Volvos and Saabs, Mason led her across the busy street and straight into Dickey’s Diner. The proprietress moved as if on autopilot, yanking two plastic-covered menus from a holder on the counter and turning to them without really seeing them.
“Welcome to Dickey’s Diner,” she droned in a crusty monotone. “Take a seat— Oh hello, Mason.”
Agnes Dickey was a stout, unflappable woman with enough grey hair to prove just how much her sons had put her through during their teenage years. Nothing fazed her anymore. Her husband Arthur—a thin, cheerful man—smiled through the pass bar between the kitchen and the dining room.
“Hey, Mason,” Arthur called, before he turned back to whatever he had been cooking.
“Your usual?” Agnes pulled an order pad from the pocket of her apron.
“Not today, Agnes. Just ice cream.”
“Sure. Pistachio for you, and for…?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Lucy, this is Agnes and Arthur, the owners of this fine establishment. Agnes, this gorgeous woman is Lucy.” He paused a beat for effect. “My mate.”
Agnes’ eyes flew open so wide Mason worried her eyeballs might pop right out. Though no one except his brothers had spoken with him about his… situation directly, everyone had known he’d been on the verge of going feral.
“Y-your…” She glanced at the humans enjoying their meals to make sure none could hear as she whisper-yelled. “Your mate?”
Mason grinned.
Lucy glared.
Then Agnes did the most unexpected thing. She ran out from behind the counter and wrapped Lucy in a giant bearhug. Laughing and grinning and chattering like a happy little bird. Agnes handed over their ice cream and insisted it was on the house. Another first. A few minutes later, Mason led Lucy to a bench in the park downtown.