Charmed Wolf

sufficient fae powers to cross over a second time and I left a jealous, clever Queen behind me. If I was more than your Consort, I might paint a target on you. The Queen has been known to trap mortals in Faery just to watch them wriggle. I won’t risk bringing her wrath down upon you.”
It was hard to fight through the haze of persimmon and attraction, but Rune’s sharing was important. Important because he trusted me enough to tell what he’d formerly sidestepped. Important because of the hole it opened in my belly when I thought of our lack of a future. Important, also, for the well-being of my pack.
I forced myself to focus on the final issue. Settling back on my heels pulled my skin away from his fingers. Still, it was important to be able to see Rune’s face when I asked: “Your mother would come after my Heir?”
His head shake was adamant. “No. I barely have enough fae blood to pique the Queen’s interest. A quarter-fae child would be irrelevant.” He paused, then added: “To her. Not to me.”
“And there’s no way to break free of her?” I don’t know why I even asked the question. Not when I wanted his fingers back on me. Not when there was no relationship potential for the two of us anyway—the Consort was a short-term indulgence at best.
Still, my heart sank when Rune shook his head yet again. “If I open Erskine’s door, I could return to Faery and try to strike a bargain. But I have nothing she wants other than myself.”
Meaning that he wouldn’t make it back to earth if he left here. I swallowed and the air space between us shortened. Did I move? Did he move? Did it matter when his fingers were once again feathering across my face?
Awareness sparked at the corner of my lips. The curve of my cheek. Then everywhere as Rune’s gaze and words took hold.
“If I could make a commitment, I would commit to you, Tara Whelan. As it is, I won’t force unwanted attentions. If you take a step backward—now, later, anytime—I’ll accept that.”
He was speaking metaphorically, but I still ordered my feet to stay planted. Rune was expecting me to hit the brakes. Instead, I was about to slam my foot down on the gas pedal.
First, though, I had to be Alpha for one more moment. “I can’t smell like you prematurely. Not until the contract is signed and I’ve reached the appropriate stage of my cycle. The pack would be confused by that.”
Rune huffed deep in his throat, the seriousness of his earlier admissions fading. “By all means, let’s not confuse your pack.”
HE LOOMED OVER ME, huge and enticing. But he didn’t kiss me. Not then.
Instead, he drew me closer to the wood stove. Through the glass door, I could see flames licking against the cast-iron interior. Still, it was Rune’s warmth that enfolded me, his hands that stroked until the heat in my body matched the heat in the wood stove. Heat like the flames kindled by a pack mate...one who deserved my full attention.
They all deserved my full attention. What was I thinking trying to turn a Consort into more than a sperm donor when Clan Whelan was perched on such a precarious ledge?
Rune stilled. “Tara, what’s wrong?”
I’d tensed and he’d felt it. His embrace turned into a hug, warm but platonic. I found myself unable to speak as my face pressed into his shoulder.
“May I ask you a question?” Rune murmured after a long moment of silence.
It was safe within his hug. Dark and anonymous. I wasn’t able to speak yet, but I was able to nod.
Rune’s question, when it came, was spoken lightly, but it slapped me anyway. “You don’t like babies. Why do you want one?”
My spine went even more rigid, and this time I found myself able to spit out the obvious answer. “Because the pack needs an Heir.”
It was almost as if Rune was inside my skin, tensing alongside me. Because the hands that had been lying still against my back started stroking slow circles. He didn’t speak until my tension eased.
“Why is an Heir necessary?”
This answer came easier. “The Guardian requires one. But it’s more than that. The Alpha is a weapon for her pack. Their strength. The Heir is a promise that the Alpha’s strength with continue after my death.”
Despite speaking about the topic I’d been avoiding for months now, my muscles were turning to liquid. I didn’t realize we’d moved until my legs tapped up against the side of the bed.
“Lie down,” Rune suggested. Then—“Does the Alpha always have to be hard and sharp? Always a weapon?”
“The pack...”
“Isn’t here. We are.”
His mouth was an inch above mine. His sweetness was intoxicating. And yet, even though I wanted to bridge the gap between us, it felt unbridgeable. No matter how badly I wanted to take what Rune was offering, I couldn’t make the leap.
And it was almost as if he heard me, because he stopped talking. Stopped asking questions that left me feeling more exposed than if I’d stripped naked.
Instead, his fingers asked the questions this time. Was it okay for his hand to be here, on my cheek?
I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes against reality.
Was it okay for his mouth to touch my brow, my nose, my cheekbone?
I turned my face, tilted my chin up. He was kissing the wrong parts of me.
Then, finally, our lips met.
A KISS TURNED INTO more, his hands going places only mine had gone previously. In retaliation, I slipped my fingers beneath his waistband. His hard length was intriguing, but he clasped my wrist and drew me away.
“You don’t like that?”
“I like it far too much.” His voice, in the darkness, was a growl. “I promised that your pack wouldn’t smell me on you. Have you changed your mind?”
It took far too long to spit out the word I needed. “No.”
My spine was stiff again, but