Harper scanned the sentence again, more interested in the handwriting than what was being said. Shan's letters had a swooping grandiosity about them that might have looked haphazard, had they not also possessed a uniformity on par with a computer font. The result was words that looked like pieces of art.

Why does everything about him have to be so perfect?

As her vision grew fuzzy, Harper blinked to clear it. It didn't work this time, and even after she rubbed them the room seemed to tilt in and out of focus. 

It was half-past an eternity since Shan had left her in his den, tired, hungry, and alone. The second she could no longer hear his footsteps, she'd gotten up and started snooping. Had it not been for her pressing exhaustion, she would have poked through all of his belongings in the time he'd been gone, but as things stood she'd made it only to the bookcase before she'd begun to feel dizzy. Retreating back to the couch, she'd curled up with a small stack of what she'd thought were books, but turned out to be Shan's records of the region. The reading was dry and was written in a way that only Shan would be able to piece together all of the details, but every few pages there would be a drawing of a tree, an animal, or a land formation that was beautifully rendered in remarkable detail. It was worth it to thumb through the books, if only for the drawings and to gawk at his handwriting.

Her heart leapt when she heard footsteps approaching, mostly at the thought of eating. With her new hearing, she couldn't gauge how far out Shan was. Then, she felt a sliver of unease as she realized that it could be anyone approaching. 

A moment later, she relaxed when Shan entered the room. She caught a brief glimpse of fatigue before his eyes lit up as they fell on her. The transformation on his face sent waves of tingles throughout her body.

He's happy to see me.

When his eyes moved to the book propped up on her chest, Shan frowned. "What are you doing with that?"

He sounded more curious than annoyed.

"Putting myself to sleep, apparently," she said with a smirk. "I didn't know that grown men kept diaries."

"It isn't a diary," he said as he made his way over to the sofa. "It's a journal."

He plucked it from her hands and set it on the end table.

Harper gave a halfhearted pout. "I didn't want it anyway. It was all herd migrations and civil unrest." She let out a pronounced yawn. "Not my genre."

Shan sat down beside her. "You should care about those things. They'll all be relevant to you, as my mate."

He placed a small cloth-wrapped parcel onto her chest. Harper began opening it at once, and as she removed the outer layer her nose picked up the scent of spiced meat.

"If it's not enough, I can go get more for you," Shan said.

Harper sat up as she finished unwrapping the parcel. Inside were cuts of sausage and a thick slice of a bread roll. Harper brought the bread up to her nose to sniff it, and then moaned.

"Is this honey butter?"

"I think so."

"Where do you get the butter?" she asked before taking a bite. It was soft and faintly sweet.

"There's a pack two hours north of here that specializes in raising livestock," he explained. 

"That's so cool," she said through a mouthful of bread. "Do you keep milk here? And cream, too?"

Shan nodded. "They're a bit more of a luxury, but readily available to anyone willing to pay for them."

Harper shamelessly stuffed sausage into her already-full mouth. "How about coffee?"

She'd been half-joking as she asked, so when he said, "We have coffee, too," Harper nearly choked. As soon as she'd swallowed the contents of her mouth, she took a breath and asked, "Can I have some now? With cream? And sugar?"

"In the morning," he said, his eyes crinkling with his slow smile. "I promise."

Harper fell back onto the sofa and squealed with delight. 

Coffee. With cream and sugar.

Maybe she had fallen asleep, because this was too unreal.

Shan laughed, and the rare sound made Harper's chest tighten.

"I don't think I've ever seen you so excited for anything," he remarked.

"I love coffee."

Shan stretched out beside her, his large body taking up most of the space on the sofa. When Harper muttered a complaint, Shan put an arm around her waist and rolled her so that she lay with her back resting on his chest. His arms went around her, holding her briefly and then growing restless. He traced the curve of her abdomen and the swell of her hips, until his hands settled on her thighs.

The food she'd been so thoroughly enjoying now tasted bland in her mouth. She forced the last of it down and then rolled over to lay on her belly. There was a faint smile on Shan's lips, but his eyes looked tired and, she thought, a little sad, too. She cocked her head questioningly, but he said nothing. Instead, he pulled her up farther and responded with a kiss.

It was a sweet, unhurried kiss. It made her ache for more, but at the same time, she wanted to savor it for as long as possible. She relished the heat of his firm lips and the sensual sounds of their lips parting and reconnecting.

She caved first, her head tilting and her tongue sweeping out to deepen the kiss. Shan reciprocated in earnest, and as his tongue met hers, his grip on her thighs tightened. He let out a low, seductive growl that she wanted badly to emulate, but she was afraid she'd screw it up and kill the mood.

In the end, it wouldn't have made much of a difference. A second later, she tried teasing his bottom lip with what she thought would be an enticing nibble. Instead, she nicked his lip with her fang, drawing blood.

Harper jerked back at once, her hands flying to her mouth. 

"I'm so sorry!"

With a sweep of his tongue, Shan licked the blood clean from his lip. Even through her mortification, she found it to be sexy.

She said, "I totally forgot about my canines. I'll be more careful next time."

"It's all right," he said, his lips curving in apparent amusement.

Shan pulled her hands from her mouth as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He gave her another kiss, though it was decidedly more chaste.

"It's better we stopped. We still have to talk, remember?"

Harper groaned. "I don't want to talk tonight. Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

"No."

Heaving a sigh, she slouched against the back of the sofa and eyed him warily. "Fine, what is it?"

Harper braced herself for some sort of critique, or a list of expectations he had of her, now that she was back at his pack.

"Your scent is changing."

Oh.

Harper had been among wolf shifters enough to pick up on the euphemism. He meant that she was becoming fertile. As she processed the news, she realized that Shan had gone perfectly still. She looked him up and down, taking in his tense bearing and creased brow, and then she laughed.

The sound of her laughter startled him, making him twitch. He recovered quickly, the crease in his brow deepening.

"What is it?" he asked.

Harper composed herself. "I don't think I've ever seen you look nervous before. It was weird. What, did you think I was going to freak out or something?"

Visibly relaxing, Shan joined her in slouching against the sofa. "I didn't know what to expect."

She gave him a small smile. "I kind of suspected it was happening, but I wasn't entirely sure. My body already feels so different, so it was hard to tell if the changes were part of being a shifter, or something else."

Even as a human, she'd noticed the subtle changes in her body when she ovulated. Her breasts became more tender and her skin felt unusually sensitive. Either of those she could have discounted as part of her body having been more or less turned inside out and remade. What she hadn't been able to dismiss was her heightened awareness of Shan. She'd grappled with her lust throughout the morning, as everything from a lingering glance to the rumbling cadence of his voice had made her wet.

"I guess it makes sense, if shifting managed to heal my scars, what are the odds it wouldn't screw up my birth control?"

"And you're fine with this?"

Harper shrugged. "To be honest, I would have liked more time, but I'm not upset. I never thought I'd have children, so it's kind of exciting to think about. What about you? Are you glad?"

He'd been watching her with such an inscrutable expression that she really hadn't been able to tell. As soon as she asked the question, his expression softened and he smiled. 

"I am."

She knew that she was glossing over her feelings and a mountain of insecurities, but ultimately it wouldn't matter. It was going to happen and she wasn't going to waste her energy trying to fight it.

"Besides," she said, giving him a coy smile, "I think we're an endangered species. We're kind of obligated to have lots of pups, right? Plus, you're pretty old, so we really shouldn't wait."

His eyes narrowed. "I am not old."

"I'm just teasing," she said, gently flicking his chest. 

Shan caught her hand, his expression sobering. "That is another thing we should talk about."

Harper cocked her head.

Shan said, "I'm not certain how long either of us will live."

"What do you mean?" Her body went rigid. "Is there something wrong with us?"

"Calm down. That's not what I meant."

"Clarify, please."

Shan released Harper's hand and pulled her back into his lap. His arms went around her, his hands resting on her back.

"My mother was in her eighties when she died."

"I thought you said she died when you were a kid..."

Shan inclined his head. "She did. She was seventy-one when I was born. And my father, he was much older."

"Holy shit," she breathed. "Like, how old?"

He lifted a shoulder. "I'm not entirely certain. I don't think he was either. He did tell me once that when he left his birth pack, Finland had just come under the rule of the Russian empire."

Harper's head spun. "Shan, that was... I mean, forgive me if I'm not up to scratch on my Nordic history, but wasn't that two centuries ago?"

"Give or take."

Harper let out a shaky exhalation. "Did he... What did he look like?"

"Not much older than I do now."

"Your mom, too?"

Shan nodded. 

Harper wrapped her arms around her waist. "So we're immortal, then?"

"I don't know," he said, frowning. "In any case, immortality isn't invulnerability. And our mating bond isn't the same as one between a human and a wolf. If one of us dies..."

He let the statement hang in the air between them. 

"But... What if I'm not like you?" Harper chewed on her bottom lip, barely managing to avoid nicking herself with her fang. "I mean, I know I shifted like you, but my mom was human. What if I'm not immortal and I just start getting old and then I die?"

Shan leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. "I'm not going to waste time speculating on what will happen. We won't know until we know, and it doesn't matter regardless. You're going to be my mate. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of everything."

He pulled her close and kissed the bridge of her nose. "Come to bed with me."

Shan picked her up without waiting for a response. Harper melted against him, now feeling both physically and emotionally drained. 

The prospect of immortality certainly had its appeal, but she couldn't shake her unease over knowing that she would either follow Shan to the grave, or he would follow her. It made the whole idea of mating seem so much more serious than she'd made it out to be in her mind.

Shan crouched by the hearth to light the candle in his free hand.

"What do you think of my den?" he asked. 

"It feels more like we're in a cabin than a den," Harper said. 

The living area was comfortable and well-appointed, with furniture made from wood, dark leather, and furs. Spacious and uncluttered, nothing in the room felt out of place and everything seemed to serve a purpose.

"Do you like it?" he asked as he stood.

"I do."

She loved it, but her fondness had nothing to do with the design or the furnishings. She loved it because it was his and even though he'd been gone for a while, his scent lingered in every corner.

His bedroom was equally minimalist in its furnishings. Aside from his bed, there was only a single nightstand and a cherry wood dresser. The walls and floors had been sanded down, and one wall had been carved into shelves that were mostly empty. Harper got the impression that he didn't spend very much time in his own home.

He set her down on the bed and took her pelt, folding it and placing it atop his dresser and beside his own pelt. She felt a strange discomfort not having it around her. The only thing she could compare it to was the sense of unease she'd once gotten when she realized she wasn't carrying her purse. Trusting that it would soon fade, she crawled under the heavy bed furs and tried to get comfortable.

Shan joined her a moment later. As Harper began creeping towards him, Shan looped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. He let out something of a sigh and rested the side of his face against the top of her head.

Tired as she was, Harper would have been content to simply drift off in his arms, except that she could feel his erection against her thigh and it was impossible to ignore.

"You said you were going to mark me tonight," she reminded him, her voice husky.

"Tomorrow night," he said. "You should rest."

Harper wasn't sure whether she was relieved or disappointed. She had the feeling that he would have been glad to have her refute him, but she wasn't sure she had the requisite stamina for sex. If they did it now, she wouldn't be good for more than lying there while he had his way with her. 

"Will we be mates after tomorrow?" she asked, her words muffled against his chest.

"It could be another week before you're fertile," he said. 

"A whole week?" she moaned. "Do you know how many ways I can screw things up in a week? At this point, I'm really banking on us becoming mates. That way you're biologically incapable of hating me."

Shan laughed.

"I'm serious," Harper said, hiding her smile. "Once you get me pregnant, there's no changing your mind, no matter how much I piss you off."

"What makes you think I'm going to change my mind?" 

Harper debated answering him, or rather, she debated answering him honestly.

"I just... I don't know. I can't help but think that if it weren't for me being like you, you wouldn't want to be with me."

"Probably not." 

His quick, nonchalant response hit her like a punch to the gut.

Harper swallowed a lump and tried keeping her tone playful as she said, "You weren't supposed to agree with me."

Shan ran a hand down her back. "Harper, what you're asking has no bearing on our present circumstances. I care about you immensely, more so than I have for any female in my life. To believe that we've formed such a deep bond in such a short span of time without extenuating circumstances would be foolish. I've known you for two weeks. I've never even taken a female to bed in such a short time, let alone fallen in love with one."

His words softened her at once. She wondered if he was extending an invitation for her to ask if he was in love with her, but she didn't dare. There was no right answer. If he said no, it would crush her, because she knew she'd already fallen hard for him. If he said yes, it would baffle her, because she hadn't done anything worth earning his love.

Shan was right, as always. If it weren't for them both being drawn to each other by their likeness, they probably wouldn't have ended up here. In her early efforts to push him away, she'd shown him the worst sides of herself. She'd been immature, arrogant, and deceitful, and in spite of all of that, Shan was still here, holding her and telling her that he cared for her more than anyone. She didn't deserve that much, and it was going to take time and commitment to be truly worthy of him.

"You've never had a fling, or a one-night-stand?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"I told you before, I take sex seriously."

"How many women have you been with, then?"

"Besides you? Two."

Harper's head snapped back and she searched his face for any sign that he was joking. Shan's eyes were closed and he looked as if he were already half-asleep.

"I'm the third person you've ever slept with in your entire life?" she asked in disbelief.

"That is how numbers work," he said dryly. "I thought you were tired."

Harper sat up and ran a hand through her hair. "Two? And they were serious, right? I mean, you said you take sex seriously, so that means they were serious relationships. Were you in love with them? Are they in this pack? What are their names?"

She knew exactly how crazy she was sounding, but the words flew from her mouth as if she were possessed. As soon as she'd gotten them all out, she put her hands on her burning cheeks and stared down at him through wide eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I just said all of that."

To her amazement, Shan smiled and pulled her back onto the bed and into his arms. 

Holding her closely, he said, "Earlier, on my way to town, I ran into Oslo. When it became apparent that I might be gone for a while, it occurred to me that I should have him bring you something to eat. But as soon as I imagined him, or any other male going near my den, going near you, I felt this wild flare of rage and I had to stop myself from snarling at him."

Harper laughed, her body sagging with relief. "So this craziness is..."

"...a normal part of courtship," Shan finished. "And yes, one of my former lovers is in the pack, but you'll like her once you get past wanting to claw her eyes out."

"If you say so," Harper grumbled. She snuggled closer to him. "I can't believe you were jealous of Oslo. He's really not my type. Now, if you'd sent—"

"Don't finish that sentence," Shan said, and she could tell he wasn't entirely joking.

Harper let her eyes close. "I can't believe you've only had sex with two other women. How are you so good in bed?"

"Just because I've only had two partners doesn't mean I haven't had a great deal of sex."

His words went beyond what Harper was comfortable hearing. She knew it was stupid, but she didn't want to think of Shan with those other women. She would have rather heard that he'd had meaningless sex with dozens of females than intimate sex with only a couple of partners. 

And what would he think if he knew how many partners she'd had? Harper prayed that he never asked her for a number, because she didn't think she could give him better than a rough estimate. In the years after Silas had crushed her heart like a fisted egg, she'd binged on meaningless sex. Being able to share her body without getting attached had made her feel strong and in control, even if she'd been anything but.

As she slowly succumbed to sleep, Harper tried to imagine what sort of woman Shan had been with before her. Shan had said she would like her. Did that mean that they were alike, or would they be polar opposites? Harper hoped that it was the former, because the alternative meant accepting what she already privately feared, that she wasn't his type.