Costin wrapped his arms around his mate, standing behind her, and pulled her tightly against his chest. They had packed their bags and made it to the airport with time to spare, and now they were standing at their gate waiting to board an international flight. His wolf was restless as his eyes continually scanned the surrounding area. Every male that looked in their direction dropped their eyes immediately, though they didn’t understand why. It was instinctual even for a human to recognize when someone was more dominant than themselves.

He wasn’t worried about them hitting on Sally, nor was his behavior because of the natural possessiveness of his species. He was worried because he knew those who ran the Order of the Burning Claw were probably furious they’d lost Sally. They’d gone to great lengths to not only abduct her but also to strip her of her memories and identity in hopes of teaching her about the supernatural world from their perspective. In essence, they had attempted to brainwash her. He knew he and Sally weren’t out of the woods yet. Until they’d ferreted out the members of the Order and brought them down, he would be extra vigilant when not in the protected walls of the pack mansion.

Even though Vasile had felt certain they would be safe flying to Coldspring, Costin hadn’t wanted to take the risk with his mate. It was Lilly, however, who’d changed his mind. She’d pulled him and Sally to the library and explained she’d had a vision and that it was very important that Sally go home. She was vague, but she’d said that it was vital to their future.

So, they’d gone. The entire time they were packing, Sally was second-guessing their decision. She hadn’t wanted to leave Titus. Lilly was adamant the boy stay with the pack. Sally was equally as adamant she stay with her son. They were family, after all, she’d argued. Of course, their amazingly astute son had put his mother at ease. Costin rested his chin on Sally’s head as he remembered how the scene had played out only an hour before they left.

“If we’re going, then our son should come with us,” Sally said as she unfolded and refolded the same shirt five or six times.

Costin walked over and took the shirt from her. He rolled it into a ball and then tucked it into the corner of her suitcase. T-shirt folding problem solved. Why can’t everything be that simple?

“Mommy?” A happy voice came from the doorway of their room.

Sally turned, and her face lit up as she knelt and opened her arms. Titus didn’t hesitate as he ran to her and threw his arms around her neck. A couple minutes later, Titus pulled back to look at his adopted mother. There was something so intense about staring into the boy’s eyes, something incredibly compelling.

“You need to go, and I need to stay,” he said gently. “Just because I’m here and you’re there doesn’t mean we aren’t still a family.”

Sally’s eyes filled with unshed tears. “How do you know what to always say?”

His answering grin was bright, and his eyes twinkled mischievously. “My angel came to see me last night.”

Sally’s eyes widened. “The woman dressed in all white?”

He nodded. “She told me sometimes, in order for an injury to heal, it has to be reopened so any infection inside can be cleaned out. You have to go backward so you can go forward. She also told me I was needed here to keep Aunt Jen on her toes.”

Costin laughed and felt some of the weight of leaving Titus behind ease.

“Thank you for telling me this, Titus,” Sally said. “You know we love you so very much. And I’m sorry I haven’t been here much lately. It won’t always be like this, okay?”

“Even this is better than where you found me, mommy mine,” he said and patted her cheek with his small hand. Hearing him call her the same endearment as Costin seemed to be the pebble that broke the dam. Tears streamed down Sally’s face as she once again pulled their son into her arms.

“Passengers who have tickets for flight 432 please make your way to gate twelve. We will be begin boarding in five minutes.” The voice blaring over the intercom jolted Costin back to the present, and his wolf scolded him for taking his attention off of their surroundings. You were keeping an eye on things, Costin told his wolf. His wolf growled. The watching eyes of two are better than one. Don’t take chances with our mate. Costin didn’t bother to respond. His wolf was in a state of constant agitation. The beast didn’t like Sally to be more than a foot away from them. His wolf wanted to be touching her skin at all times. It needed the reassurance that she was real, tangible, and not leaving them.

“I am not going anywhere,” Sally said gently through their bond and directed the thought to his wolf.

“You can go anywhere you like, mate,” his wolf rumbled. “But we will be going with you.”

“Your wolf is feeling extra possessive,” she said to Costin.

“He’s actually your wolf, and yes, if it was up to him we would carry you everywhere just to be touching you. He longs for you, just as I do, Sally. He adores you.” He felt the joy his words caused and squeezed her briefly. He wasn’t close enough. The stupid clothes were in the way, and he and his wolf were in agreement that clothes should be banned once true mates had been bonded.

“So, you would have us standing completely naked in this airport?” Sally asked, a small bit of laughter joining her words.

Costin growled, partly because, hell no, he didn’t want her naked in front of a bunch of people, and partly because he loved the idea of her naked.

“Those with tickets in first class may board now,” the woman said into the intercom.

“That’s us,” Sally said over her shoulder and started forward.

When they were in their seats and settled, he stretched his legs out in front of him and sighed. “Thank the Great Luna that Jen got us first class.”

Sally chuckled. “I don’t think you would have fit in the chairs in coach.” She eyed him up and down as if to judge his measurements.

“It would have been a bit uncomfortable,” he admitted. They were quiet as the rest of the passengers boarded. Costin reached over and took her hand in his, twining their fingers together. He was sitting in the aisle seat, so he didn’t have a window through which he could gaze outside. So, instead, he pressed his head back against the plush seat and closed his eyes. He allowed his wolf’s senses to take over in order to protect their mate. He nearly laughed when his wolf started to get distracted by Sally. Her scent was wrapping around them in the small space. Her heartbeat was a steady rhythm that had somehow become hypnotic. Her skin against his hand was soft as silk, and his mouth watered with the need to taste her.

He growled low as he thought about the times she’d allowed him to refresh the bite mark she bore on her neck. It didn’t need refreshing, but he liked having her scent running through his veins after taking a small amount of her blood and tasting her skin because she belonged to him, and he had the right to her blood.

“No growling,” Sally whispered as she bumped his leg with hers. “And holy werewolf babies, stop thinking about what you’re thinking about.”

He smiled, and his eyes popped open. He lowered his head and turned to face her. “What am I thinking about, Sally mine?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. You can’t think about that kind of stuff in public.” Her voice was short and clipped, but she was barely containing the smile trying to spread across her face.

“And what should I think about in public then?” he asked.

“Taxes,” she muttered.

“Are you on a desk covered in tax documents ready to be ravished by your husband?”

She choked as she tried to swallow. “Fine, think about squirrels on crack.”

“Are the squirrels on crack being captured to rid their plague on the world and then their fur being made into a fur coat that you could wear with nothing under it and surprise me at the bar?”

She huffed, and he tried really hard not to laugh. It was so fun to play with her. His wolf wanted to howl and roll around on the floor like an idiot with his feet in the air.

“Fine, think about lemons.” She appeared satisfied with that suggestion.

“Are the lemons being squeezed over your bikini-clad body?”

She threw her hands up in the air. “Bloody hell, can you turn everything into some sort of sexual reference?”

“It’s a talent. I don’t share it with just anyone, you know.”

“Are you sure that you and Jen aren’t very distant cousins? Because sometimes you’re just the male version of her.” She paused, and her face wrinkled up in a cute disgusted look. “And, it’s sort of creepy.”

“Is the creepiness so bad you can’t be near me and therefore have to fantasize about me in the quiet night, tucked away in our bed with your hair spread out all around you and your skin flu—” His words were muffled as his mate’s hand slammed over his mouth.

“Do not even finish that little scenario, Mr. Miklos.” She hissed at him. “You’re incorrigible.”

When she started to pull her hand away he moved fast, snatching it and bringing it to his mouth. He kissed her wrist and then the palm of her hand, his eyes never leaving hers.

“You’re matchless, unique, exceptional, and, most importantly”—he winked at her—“you’re mine.”

Sally was nearly breathless from Costin’s bombardments of thoughts, playful flirting, and sensual declarations. The wink was almost her undoing. Undoing to what, she wasn’t sure. Maybe she was going to drag him to the bathroom and become part of the mile-high club, or maybe she’d just maul him right there in their first-class seats. Wouldn’t that be a memory for the people of flight 432? Regardless, she had to admit that it felt good to be joking with him, and, for the first time in days, she felt like she could breathe.

Once everyone was seated and the cabin door shut, the hostess began her spiel on all the safety features of the plane. Sally was convinced it didn’t matter if her butt cushion could float or that some oxygen mask would plop down and probably smack her in the face in the event of an emergency. People would be so scared they wouldn’t be able to think rationally. Seriously, who thinks to grab a cushion when all you can think is that you might be taking your last breaths?

The plane began to move in reverse, and she looked out the small window. There were people scurrying all about, some with illuminated batons in their hands, waving them to direct the plane. Others were in small vehicles driving them as if they were being chased by hell hounds. How on earth did they not crash into a person, plane, or one another? Her thoughts drifted away from her current time and place and was replaced with visions of her parents.

She hadn’t seen them since they’d gone home while trying to hide from Rayaz. That turned out to be an epic failure of a plan. She wondered what her parents would have thought had they known the real reason they’d come back to Coldspring. She smiled to herself as she considered her dad’s reaction. Chris Morgan was the serious type and very analytical. He would have been trying to determine the statistical probability of Rayaz figuring out where they were. Her mom probably would have been trying to hatch her own plan to keep them hidden while at the same time acting like they were running from an angry cat and not a deranged warlock. Her mom often dealt with conflict by simply downplaying it, as if that would somehow change the situation.

She missed them both. But she was still scared to see them. What if they could tell she was tainted? What if they could see just how far she’d fallen into the dark pit of despair? They would still love her because they were her parents, for crying out loud. But would they be disappointed in her? She should have been able to fight whatever magic had been done to her. She should have been able to say no to Jericho. But she hadn’t. She’d folded like a house of cards.

Her attention was momentarily averted when she felt the plane begin to pick up speed. It always made her stomach drop when a plane raced down the runway, trying to get enough velocity to ensure lift off. Every flight she’d taken, she’d felt the huge piece of metal wouldn’t get enough speed to raise up off the runway and they’d just keep going, careening through a field and into a tree or pole or something. Of course, that had never happened, and it didn’t happen this time either. Within a matter of seconds, they were climbing higher and higher into the sky. She looked out the window and watched as the ground below became smaller and smaller.

“Everything looks so tiny,” she said as Costin leaned over her to look out the window.

“If we knew where our pack was, we could squash them with our fingers.”

“And why would we want to do that?” Sally asked.

He smiled and shrugged. “Because squashing people is fun.”

She shook her head at him and then settled back into her seat. It was going to be a long trip home.

“Don’t think I’m about to let you go back inside of that head of yours,” Costin whispered, and his lips brushed her ear. He leaned back and smiled, his gorgeous dimple making an appearance. “We’re going to play charades,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at her. He unbuckled his seatbelt and practically bounced out of his seat.

Sally reached for him. “Costin, wait!” He moved too quickly. He was already out of his seat and three rows up the aisle, talking to the flight attendant who looked like she was going to start panting at any moment. Sally wanted to roll her eyes, but she daren’t take her eyes off the woman standing so close to her mate either.

Finally, he turned and faced all the first-class seats. His shoulders were pulled back, and he held himself with an air of confidence that had other men ducking their heads.

“Hello, ladies and gentlemen,” he said in his smooth, inviting voice. “I was wondering, since it is going to be quite a long flight, and also because my beautiful wife has been feeling kind of down, if you all would be interested in playing a game of charades?”

Sally smacked her hand to her face and groaned. Only. Costin.

“Now, before you grumble”—he said, holding up a finger,—“hear me out. For every correct guess, I will personally make you a mixed drink and cover the tab.”

“Can you even make drinks?” A man in a suit on the second row, with a comb-over that rivaled Donald Trump’s, asked loudly.

“I own my own bar, and I make Tom Cruise in Cocktail look like a two-year-old playing with Coke bottles.” Just then the flight attendant wheeled out a cart laden with various bottles of alcohol, a bowl of ice, and some lemons and limes.

Sally couldn’t keep the stupid grin off her face as she watched her mate demonstrate for the skeptical crowd just how mad his bartending skills were. He tossed bottles, caught them, spun them, and poured them with such speed and skill that he practically made bartending an art.

When he was done, the first-class passengers broke into applause. And that was how Sally got sucked into playing charades with a bunch of strangers on a plane, forty thousand feet in the air. Jen was going to eat it up.

* * *

Costin pushed the middle arm rest up and pulled Sally over until her head was in his lap. He covered her with the blanket the attendant had given them and brushed the hair from her face.

“You are so crazy,” she said softly.

He loved how her lips turned up into a tiny smile when she was pleased with something he’d done. Tease him she may, but she had fun playing charades. Everyone had. Costin had pulled the stunt in an effort to keep her from sitting and thinking. The game had gotten heated several times, but the alcohol kept most of the other passengers in a state of happy buzz. He’d purposely been skimping on how much alcohol he was putting in their drinks. He wanted everyone to enjoy themselves, not get smashed. It was lucky he had. Some of the passengers were good guessers and had a stack of empty plastic cups resting on their tray backs. A couple could be heard throughout the cabin snoring loudly.

“You had fun,” he replied. “It’s okay if you want to admit it.”

He felt her head move up and down in a nod. “I did have fun. Thank you.”

“I would do anything for you,” he said, switching to the more intimate way of communicating through their bond.

“Even spend hundreds of dollars on alcohol to play charades with first-class passengers just to keep me from being swallowed up by my own mind?”

“Yes, Sally mine, even that.”

She snuggled in closer to him, and the contented sigh that left her body made him want to cheer. She was relaxed, not completely, but more than she had been in days. She’d had fun, smiled, laughed, and teased. His wolf had been mesmerized by her and gotten ticked off any time Costin took his eyes off of her. She’s beautiful, his wolf said. Yes, she is.

“I love you, beloved mate,” he whispered in her mind as he felt her drifting off to sleep.

“And I love you, dimple boy.”

He chuckled at the nickname Jen had given him. Sally still liked to use it. He didn’t mind because, knowing Jen, it could have been much worse.

He leaned his head back against the seat and ran his fingers through his mate’s hair. His eyes closed, but he didn’t stop petting, caressing, or touching her. Even in his sleep his hands found their way to her skin. Touch was so incredibly vital to his kind and even more so between mates. As long as Sally would keep letting him touch her, he could help her with the darkness that was attacking her mind. And she would help him without even knowing it. They’d made so much progress in a very short amount of time. He wanted to keep their momentum moving forward as she worked through the happenings of the past four months. He hoped going home to see her parents was the right move. The other females agreed that it was, and he was to the point that he would take her anywhere she wanted to go if it was going to help her heal.

“Can you say it?” Her voice in his mind startled him. He’d thought she was asleep. When he didn’t answer right away, she asked again, “Can you say it?”

“I want you. I adore you. I love you. You’re mine, and I am yours,” he crooned through their bond just as he had earlier that day, and a week earlier, the night she’d been brought home.

“Again,” she whispered.

“You’re beautiful. I need you. I want you. You’re mine.”