Daybreak sifted through the open shutters, golden light catching on flecks of dust as they floated around the room. It slashed across the bed, highlighting our tangled legs, sheets twisted high enough to conceal the good bits, while showing off enough of Bree to tease my eyes.

My arm had fallen asleep hours ago, but my only regret was not being able to feel her soft cheek pressing into my skin. I could see the trail of drool though, which was kind of cute, and could feel her breath puffing out against my chest, rhythmic and deep as she laid cuddled up against my side.

The scent of sex filled my nostrils, musky and addictive. It was also one of the reasons why I’d been awake for hours, aching, despite having lost myself in this woman over and over. I had drank in her cries, lapped at her skin, buried myself in her body, joined us, left my mark deep inside her. It was the only thing easing my wolf, keeping him caged beneath my skin.

He wasn’t happy that she didn’t wear my mark on her skin. Hell, I wasn’t happy. My canines itched, even as my cock jerked at the thought of sliding inside her once more, teeth and body. Joining us together in the ultimate act. But I wasn’t doing that until she admitted that she wanted it. Us.

Lifting my free hand carefully, I scrubbed at my eyes. Fuck. What now? We hadn’t spoken more than a few words, our mouths and hands saying everything, but it was her eyes that had told me nothing had changed.

“You’re thinking too loud.” Her lips pressed into the curve of my shoulder, her tongue darting out to lick at my skin, before she rolled away, onto her back.

“Morning.” I scooted closer as she stretched, her back arching and her breasts bouncing.

Her eyes had closed, a satisfied smile teasing her full lips. They flashed open, and she jerked up to sitting, dragging the cover up to her chest. “Wait, morning?”

Now completely naked—thanks to the bed sheet thief—I smirked when her eyes slid sideways, zeroing in on my cock, which was waving a very good morning to her. Maybe I could convince her to stay in bed with me, remove all the clocks in the house, close the shutters, and then she’d forget she was planning on leaving.

Using my biceps as a pillow, I flexed my abs, making the focus of her attention jump. “Find something to your liking?”

“Has that line ever worked before?” She laughed, wagging her finger in the air. “No, wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

Affecting a wounded look, I frowned. “No round two then?”

Sliding off the bed, and, yes, taking the sheet with her, she squinted at the floor, probably looking for her clothes.

Which I had hidden in the closet. In Dylan’s room. A stroke of brilliance on my part. “I think it would be round four, maybe five.” She didn’t actually answer my question, but she didn’t have to. She was making her escape.

“Why can’t you register?”

Her drawn out sigh grated on my nerves, the high of last night vanishing. This relationship thing was hard, how the hell was I ever meant to understand what women were really thinking? I pushed up onto my elbows. “I think I deserve to know.”

Pausing her search, she glared at me. “Because I can’t have my name in the system.”

Pretty much the conclusion I’d come to. “Someone’s looking for you?”

She yanked the sheet tighter, tucking the ends over so it stayed up. “Several someones.”

“So, we’ll get your name changed.”

She gave me a look as if to say duh. “That would leave a paper trail.”

Had to be someone reasonably influential then, if she was worried about that. “I could speak to Carter, talk him into letting you have a little more time.” So I could come up with a plan.

She hesitated, and, for the first time, I knew without a doubt that she didn’t want to leave.

She didn’t want to fucking leave.

Relief floored me, leaving me fighting off the shakes. I hadn’t realized until that moment how worried I’d actually been.

She shook her head. “He wouldn’t go for it.”

“He wouldn’t have a choice.” Something teased at my memory, then her earlier words came flooding back to me. “You said that you had two choices. Leaving or…?”

“You don’t want to know.” She gave up the search for her clothes and perched on the edge of the bed, flicking her hair back with her hand. “You really don’t want to know. Doesn’t matter anyway, I’m not doing it.”

Reaching out, I tugged her around, so I could see her face. So she could see mine. “Tell me.”

“Dante suggested that we get married,” she blurted out, her words tumbling over each other.

I saw red. Fuck, no, I saw blood. I was on my feet, fists clenched, and on my way out of the room. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

A body slammed into mine, hands palming my cheeks and yanking my head down. Electric green eyes blazed into mine. “I’m not marrying him.” Each word was dragged out, drilling through the rage that consumed me, until I could breathe around the fire burning a hole in my chest.

“Would it work?”

She flinched. “You can’t be serious.”

Covering her hands with mine, I leaned into her, until our noses nearly touched. “Would … it … work?”

She bit her lip, eyes sliding away to be hidden by her lashes. “Yes. The paper trail would still be there, but it wouldn’t matter.”

“Because they—” whoever this mysterious they were, “—wouldn’t be able to touch you.”

“They wouldn’t be able to force me to—” Her voice broke.

There was no hesitation in my mind, no deliberation needed. “Then marry me.” Sure, it wasn’t the usual way of our kind, but it wasn’t that unusual either. As long as she was my mate, we could do the whole human thing, too. If I’d have known that’s what she needed, I’d have offered weeks ago.

“Owen…” Her frown hadn’t faded, but her eyes were wide. Disbelieving.

Twisting my lips into a wry smile, I winced. “Not romantic enough?”

“I— I can’t be your mate.” She darted in, kissing me quick, leaving her taste clinging to my lips. Trying to ease the sting.

Teasing me. Taunting me with what she couldn’t give.

No, wouldn’t give.

In a low voice, she tried to soften the blow, “You’re the only man I’ve ever imagined a future with.” She gulped in air, as if she were drowning, sadness pouring off her. Her finger traced a path down my cheek. “But it wouldn’t work, wolf. You have to trust me. I wouldn’t be the perfect mate. It’s something inside me—maybe my soul or my DNA, or maybe I’m just that screwed up—but I can’t do it. Something is broken inside of me, has been for a long time. I don’t want this.” And I’d end up hating you for it… The words she didn’t utter hung in the air between us, slashing at the bond already formed between us.

Static crackled in my ears as I employed every ounce of control I had to hide my reaction. Her rejection. Her words echoed inside my head, bouncing around until I couldn’t think, could barely breathe. Did I mean nothing to her? My wolf was silent, curled up inside me as if he could wish himself into nothing through pure willpower alone.

“I’m sorry.” Her hands were leaving me, her eyes a shimmer of green.

She was crying. For me. For us.

And I knew her; Bree didn’t cry.

I did mean something to her, enough for her heart to hurt.

Reaching for the fragile bond between us that had sprung to life at first kiss, the proof that our fate was sealed as one, I carefully pulled it close, cradling it within my mind.

I wasn’t letting her go. She could fight me, scream at me, give me the cold shoulder, hurt me anyway she needed to, but I was never turning my back on her. Even if she wanted me to.

I snatched her hand out of the air, bringing it to my rest above my heart in a silent vow. “Marry me anyway.”