I smile. It doesn’t reach my eyes. “I’m not a shifter.”
Your kind, my mother had said. It struck a little too close to my heart, reopening mended scars. Jacob seems to know, though. He hadn’t appreciated those words either. I could tell by his rigid posture, and now – now that I question the pack’s home being mine, I can tell he knows why I’m hesitant about it, too.
I’m not one of them.
“I don’t care. DNA doesn’t matter to me, and it doesn’t matter to the pack.” He quirks a brow, sets my foot down, and crawls across the bed until he hovers over me. His towel unravels with the movement, slumps to the bed, and tumbles to the floor. Dust bunnies take flight, and heat pulses from his body. I gulp with difficulty.
“Our home, and I’ll have no further discussion on that matter.” His eyes roam my face. “You said, not too long ago, you wouldn’t mind being mated to me. Is this still true?”
I stare at his eyes, fluttering my lashes as his breath tickles the bridge of my nose. I whisper, “It is.”
He inhales my scent and leans forward, brushing his lips against mine. He smells like soap and him. His skin is dewy under my hands as they slide their way up his shoulder blades. “Definitely our home, then. Someday, I will be your mate, Jinx.” He trails off, closes his eyes, and rests his forehead against mine. “The restraint is almost unbearable, but we haven’t had the time to –”
“Figure it all out?” I ask, goosebumps rising over my skin. I blink at my brash question. Neither of us has discussed the possible outcomes of shifters mating skinwalkers. We’ve discussed that there may be problems, but we haven’t dove into what those problems might be.
How will the mating work? How will having children work? Who would they resemble more? And last but not least, how will his duties as alpha change? Could I ever be an alpha female when I’m not a shifter?
My hands lower until they’re cupping the curve of his back. He groans, his body pressing into mine. The length and heat of him against the thin fabric of my tank top seeps into my abdomen and sends a flutter to my core.
“Exactly,” he mutters, his voice hoarse.
I take his hand and guide it to my breast. Fingers twining on top of his, I squeeze both of our hands around the soft flesh. He moans again and brushes his lips against mine.
“I say fuck it all and –” I hiss as he nips a sensitive spot on my jaw. My body hums. It hums and tingles and heats with anticipation for what may come next.
Chuckling, he trails kisses across my brows. “You may be ready for sex, but neither one of us should jump into something. Not without a conversation about it first. Not with something as permanent and life-altering.” He leans back and searches my face. “It will change your life, Jinx. In ways you may not like.”
My hair strains against the confines of my braid as I tip my chin to frown at him. “Who are you to say I’m not ready for change?”
He quirks a brow, the model of patience. “You’re ready for me to be so possessive over you that another male won’t be able to touch you without me wanting to rip his arm off? You’re ready to be holed up in a room with me for a week of nothing but sex because we won’t be able to bear it, not being skin to skin? You’re ready for children? To rule over a pack? To be responsible for so many people?”
“Children,” I ponder aloud. Could I be a mother? Would I be any good at raising a half shifter, quarter witch, and quarter shaman child?
“I want kids. I want your kids,” he admits softly then his throat bobs at his admission. It’s as if he had been denying it, and his true heart – his true desires – spoke without thought.
“No matter what sort of species they turn out to be?”
Jacob presses a kiss to the tip of my nose in answer. I sigh and drop my hands back to my sides. My gaze moves to the ceiling. “Having children is a bit of a jump in the next steps of our relationship.” I didn’t add the bit that scares me most; being responsible for several tiny beings when I was once barely responsible for myself.
“It is, but it’s still a conversation that coincides with mating. Once mated, kids usually follow. You have choices, Jinx. Many of them, and I’ll respect your decision on each of them. I only want you to think about them. And until you do, there will be no sex.”
“Why?” I bark, my attention returning to his.
He smiles sadly. “Because I can’t hold back the instinct to make you mine anymore. Especially here, under this roof, where my instincts to protect you are in overdrive.” He traces the bridge of my nose. “Promise me you’ll think this all over.”
Sighing against his palm, I nod and snuggle deeper into the pillow. “What’s the discussion we should be having now?”
He shrugs, and as he does, his chest rubs against my breast. “The basics.”
“Basics?” A grin rearranges my face.
He drops to my side and rests his leg on top of my own, effectively covering what’s between his thighs. “If the mating bond works the same as it does for regular shifter couples, you’ll be able to feel my emotions and talk to me through mindspeech. Gifts, like your skinwalking, will be shared. My friend Evo has an empathic mate. When they mated, he almost drove himself mad trying to figure out her gift.”
“You –” I tuck my chin and widen my eyes. “Would want to share skinwalking?”
Brows pinched together, he says, “Of course, I do. That’s if it would work the same between you and me. There’s a good chance it won’t because we don’t know anything about skinwalker genetics and what would pass from one mate to the other. It does make me hesitate, yes. But only because you’re still discovering the full extent of your magic.” He pauses and lowers his voice to a loving tenor. “If you’re asking if it scares me, my answer is no.”
“Speak for yourself,” I mumble half-heartedly.
“You amaze me,” he whispers and then leans in to kiss me again. “That’s all that matters. And I hope someday, you’ll want to mate with me, and then later, we’ll talk about making a family. Today isn’t the day. Not under the same roof as your mother or your coven. Not when they’re –”
“Hostile?” I nod, blushing at the idea of mating and forming such an intimate bond down the hall from my mother. These walls are thin, and she just met Jacob. Tomorrow’s trip to breakfast will already feel a bit too awkward with everything we went through today.
“I’m sorry you had to endure all that,” I add. “I was hoping it wouldn’t be like this.”
He grins. “We both knew it would. Staying here for the night was wise despite not being welcome.”
I twist my lips while sparing a peek at our luggage. Jacob had brought them in after his phone call, a clear message that we were staying here for the night – in my youth’s bed surrounded by my youth’s treasure. None of us had argued, not with the wind and pelting rain at his back while he stood in the doorway, drenched. Marian had used a spell of her own to dry the floor he dripped across.
“I really don’t scare you?” I whisper.
“Never. Do you scare you?”
“A little,” I say honestly. There’s a question in my mind, which constantly replays. A scenario I’ve speculated over and over again about my skinwalking abilities. A theory I’ve shared with only Sara. Speculation that may change . . . everything.