Just a Rogue
New Year's Day

Amelia

“Are you ready?” Dominic asks me. “To face everyone?”

We’ve gotten dressed, which feels wrong and ridiculous. As wolves or humans, I hate to have anything between us, even clothing. After waiting ten days to finalize our mate bond, I never want to be separated in any way.

We’ve just spent a good twelve hours naked and joined together in every conceivable position and configuration, celebrating the completion of our union. Our wolves had most of the night, reveling in their freedom to be together, running and marking and claiming each other in the forest far beyond the packhouse boundaries. Dom and I were along for the ride, watching, merging with our wolves, our souls so closely knitted together that it feels like we aren’t really even two separate people anymore.

This fated mates thing is weird. And wonderful.

I nod, resigned. “It’s time,” I agree, and I open the door of my basement bedroom. Rather than going up the back stairs to the outside and walking all the way around the packhouse, we plan to head to the inside stairs. We are done hiding, done trying to pretend, ready to come out into the open. We’ve kept our mating a secret for ten days, and that will no longer be possible.

I don’t even need to brush my fingers across the mark that he left on my throat to feel it there, to feel the tingling pleasure that lingers, and even more to feel the sense that he is within me. He’s a part of me now. We are forever entangled together, and it is a bliss that I had never understood could possibly exist.

“I feel the same way,” he says, not out loud, but through our new mates’ mind-link.

Luna Darlene told me that we might have some ability to speak silently to each other, but I had no idea how strong and powerful our link would be. It’s almost easier than actually speaking. And it means that we keep eavesdropping on each other’s thoughts without even meaning to. It’s a lot like the way my inner wolf has always been able to hear my thoughts.

This is going to take a lot of getting used to.

But, we can’t just loiter in my room boinking. That’s a new term, another word that he has taught me, and it is funny and descriptive and I love it, and it is definitely what I’m calling it from now on.

“I am regretting my life choices,” he says out loud. “I should never have called it that.”

“Too bad, it’s ‘boinking’ forever,” I say silently, and he grabs me for one more kiss before I close my door.

“Time for more?” he whispers. “I’ll show you what boinking is really about.”

I laugh. “Nope. We’ve got work to do, you know it. Not like we’re an Alpha and Luna and can just go off for a week alone. They’re going to be expecting us upstairs.”

He pretends to sigh melodramatically, but I know he’s not actually unhappy. It almost doesn’t matter what we’re doing, now that we are bonded. We’ll always be together, always happy, our love always fueling whatever endeavor we undertake.

“I have to unlock Corinne’s door,” I tell him, and we walk down the hallway where her room is. I’m hoping now that Dom and the others have confirmed all of her information about the rogue cave network, the leaders will loosen the restrictions on my friend and not make her stay locked up in her room overnight.

I knock on the door, wait a second and then open it, and am surprised that she isn’t standing there waiting for me. “Corinne?” I say, figuring she’s in the bathroom.

No answer. I look at Dom, and he shrugs. I move into the room, check the bathroom, the closet, even behind the bed. She is definitely not in here.

Uh-oh. It really was my responsibility to keep track of her, and I utterly failed to give that any thought whatsoever last night. After the mating ceremony for Alpha Kanen and Luna Janine, I had only one thing on my mind. Dom and I came downstairs immediately, and I didn’t think about Corinne or anyone else for a single second until just now.

“I guess someone already came and got her?” Dom says, not looking as concerned as I am.

“Hopefully,” I say. “Maybe she’s just at breakfast.”

“All right, up we go then.” He reaches over and brushes my long hair away from my throat, using both hands to lift it and settle it behind my shoulders, flowing down my back. He leans down and kisses his mark on my throat, very lightly, but it sends a zing of electric pleasure straight through me. “Don’t hide that,” he says, and caresses my cheek gently. “I’ve waited long enough. No more hiding.”

We walk towards the stairs, wondering what kind of uproar we are about to face. With any luck, very few people will even notice that we both have the obvious marks of mating on our throats. Not like we’re leaders or anything. We’re just wolves.