He waves the question away. “You don’t.”
“How do you know?”
“If you did, you’d be aware.”
“That’s not true. Maybe the signs are there, but I’m missing them because I’m only half Were.”
“You couldn’t miss them.”
My throat is dry. My stomach, heavy with disappointment. Did I . . . ? No. Come on. I don’t want a mate, whatever that means. My s*x drive’s cobwebs have grown their own cobwebs. I’ve always needed bucketloads of time alone. Plus, I’m still figuring out what I am. This isn’t the start of anything.
Except.
“I do feel . . . very safe. Here, with you,” I confess, retreating inward for a moment, groping at my unintelligible body and my tricky mind for clarity. Koen’s presence is cumbersome, and I feel like I’m stuffed too tight by him, but I am experiencing a stunningly quiet mom
