“I can. Your fear of being let down again is causing you to hold back.” He licked at his claiming mark. “When it’s gone, it’ll clear the path for the bond.”

“You know, I have to give you credit where it’s due. At no point whatsoever have you ever doubted that we’re true mates. Nothing I’ve said has made any difference. There’s no bond, and yet you’re still unwavering in your belief. It’s admirable.”

He linked their fingers, speaking into her ear. “Do you ever feel something pulling at you? A pressure on your head and chest? I do.” He was pretty sure it was the bond.

Sometimes she thought she did. But admitting that aloud was hard; it could just be setting herself up for disappointment.

“It’s there, Kenna. Waiting.” He kissed her temple. “The pack sees you as one of us. None of them would ever betray you. They’d try to kill anyone who ever hurt you.”

“Try?”

“I’d get there first.” That made her smile. “At least be honest about one thing: you hold yourself back from the pack, don’t you?”

Makenna took a moment to think about it. “I’ve lost most of the things that were important to me. It’s hard to fully trust it won’t happen again.”

He got that. He got why, on one level, she was preparing herself for the disappointment of losing more. He couldn’t blame her. But it was essential to him that she accepted her place in the pack. There were certain to be some casualties during the battle. He needed to know that if anything happened to him, she’d be okay; she wouldn’t be alone, wouldn’t be lost under the grief of losing another person. Right now, he very much doubted that she’d stay in the pack without him. “Promise me one thing.”

She wasn’t sure why, but the hairs on her neck rose. “What?”

“Promise me that if something happens to me—”

“It won’t.”

“Kenna.”

“No. This a pointless conversation because you are not going to die.” And she was done talking about it.

“I need to know that you won’t be alone.”

“I won’t, because you’ll be there.” Pulling out the plug, she got to her feet and stepped out onto the mat. Wrapping a fluffy towel around her, she went into the bedroom. Yes, she was fleeing from the conversation. She refused to even discuss that he might—

Cutting off the thought, she grabbed her brush and began dragging it through her wet hair. Her wolf hunkered down, thoroughly annoyed with her mate for even suggesting the unacceptable. Makenna felt Ryan’s energy beating against her skin before his warm, solid chest pressed to her back. She gave him a sidelong glance. “Are you done talking about morbid shit?”

Ryan took her brush and placed it on the bedside cabinet. “We could instead talk about how it would be better if you stayed inside the caves during the battle.”

“You’re not cutting me out of the fight.” They’d already discussed that. She would not sit here, twiddling her thumbs, while he was in danger.

He curled his arms around her. “We need people to stay inside and protect the others.”

“People have already been assigned to do that.”

“The pups will feel better if you stay with them.”

She snorted. “That’s not going to work, Ryan. Look, I understand you don’t want me risking myself. I’m not crazy about you doing it. But I wouldn’t ask you to stay out of the battle. It’s not who you are.”

He growled, exasperated by how fair she was being. It made it hard to argue his point. “You’re not trained in combat.”

“No, but I can still fight. My wolf can fight.”

He didn’t doubt that. Her wolf was wild even when she played. Still . . . “You’ve never been in a battle before.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“If I’m worrying about you, I won’t be able to focus.”

“You’ll be able to focus if you don’t pointlessly worry.”

Ryan nipped her throat. “Stubborn.”

“Yes. Now can we drop this? You’re missing the bigger picture: I’m naked, you’re naked, and there are much more interesting things to do when naked.”

She did have a point. And honestly, talking about the battle was the last way he wanted to spend the night. “Turn around, Kenna.” Once she was facing him, he fingered one of her wet locks. “Drop the towel.”

Well. It would seem that the battle talk was indeed over. Makenna let the towel puddle at her feet. Her skin burned under the intensity and heat of his gaze as it drank her in. His rarely expressive eyes glittered with possessiveness and a predatory hunger that made her mouth dry up. She bit her lower lip, but his thumb tugged it free.

“Only I get to bite this mouth. It belongs to me.” Tangling a hand in her hair, Ryan angled her head how he wanted it and lowered his mouth to hers. Her lips parted, and he swept his tongue inside. He tasted her. Feasted on her. Demanded everything she had . . . because it was his to take.

He snatched her head back, exposing her neck and making her spine arch. She ground against him as he licked and sucked at her claiming bite. Her little throaty moans made his cock jerk. He closed his hand possessively around her breast, squeezing and plumping. How the fuck did she get her skin this soft?

Needing to touch him, Makenna tugged off his towel and then fisted his cock—it was hot and hard and pulsed in her hand. He grunted into her neck as she pumped him, keeping her grip firm just the way he liked it. But she needed more than just to touch him.