Page 72 of UNAwere

‘Don’t talk like that, Sybbie,’ he whispers after a moment, his chest moving rapidly. ‘Please.’

I don’t know what to say. The tension in the car is so heavy, it buzzes in my ears.

‘Um, so,’ I start again, once I’ve collected myself, ‘what does he like to do for fun?’

‘For fun?’ He huffs. ‘I don’t think Warner knows the meaning of that word.’

‘Oh, so like you?’ I press my lips to hide my smile when he shoots me a look. ‘He doesn’t go hiking on the weekends, or play chess, or read self-help books?’

‘Warner is all business, Sybbie. He’s always been like that. He always will be.’ He glances at me, and there’s something in his eyes that I can’t quite discern. ‘That’s why you’re here.’

I nod, clenching my jaw. ‘I guess…’

‘He can be friendly,’ Jude says after another moment. And it’s like he’s worried I feel put off by everything he’s saying and wants to give me some encouraging news about my future bonded-to-be. ‘He can have a sense of humour when he wants to.’

‘Is he taller than you?’

Jude raises a brow. ‘Why does that matter?’

I bite my lip. And I don’t tell him it’s because I can’t really see myself with anyone who isn’t a six-foot-four grumble bum of a bodyguard.

‘Y’know,’ I say, waving a hand. ‘Height is important.’

‘I wouldn’t take you for the kind to be focused on those kinds of things, Red.’

I’m not.

‘He’s, I dunno, six-one?’ He rubs a hand across his face, sighing, but doesn’t say anything else.

I bite down on my tongue, leaving it at that.

‘Thank you,’ I say after another moment.

He frowns at me. ‘You don’t need to thank me, Red.’

‘No, I do… You’ve been driving me this whole time. You must be exhausted. And you’ve put up with a lot from me. And I… I know things got a bit weird for a second there, but I just want to say, you’re a great guy, Briggsy.’

‘Weird…’ He stares at the road ahead, jaw tensing. And then he says again, ‘You don’t need to thank me, Red.’

Silence takes over once more.

Jude’s training is a little harder than the first few times.

We’re in a copse of naked trees, red and gold leaves crunching under our feet as he circles me. He’s a lot more unforgiving. His hits are hardly held back, and it’s like he’s working out a week’s worth of frustrations as he smacks into me, jaws snapping.

I growl and spin, keeping him in front of me, even as he tries to get past.

You’re treating me like I’m your friend, he says, voice hard.

You are my friend.

Not here. Here, I am just like any other Karver. And you should be fighting me like your life depends on it.

I don’t have the energy to, I argue. I’m not pulsing with adrenaline like I was during the Karver attack. I don’t know what happened, but that wasn’t me. Something else took over, and it was nothing but primal rage.

He runs at me, trying to tackle me, but I skirt around him and nip at his tail as he passes. You don’t know what it was because you’re still not connected to your wolf self. You still don’t know how to be a Were.

Why are you such a bigot about this? I hiss. Why does any of this matter so much to you?