He Rejected Me the Night I Birthed His Twins novel · Chapter 15 of 32

Chapter 15: No Claiming

I handed my daughter to the housekeeper at four.

I told her I'd be gone until morning, and she looked at my face and said, "Take as long as you need."

By dark I was standing on Torin's porch, at the end of the ridge road, and I had not knocked.

The door opened on its own.

He stood in the light with his sleeves rolled up and a dish towel in his hand.

He smelled it on me before I spoke.

I watched him smell it.

His whole body went still, and his pupils spread wide and black.

"Morven," he said, roughly. "Go home."

"No."

"You're in heat. I can't be what you walk to."

"You can be exactly that."

"We have terms."

"I know the terms." I stepped over the sill. "One winter. No claim. I don't call you Alpha."

"Then you know why."

"I know that you've wanted me since the bridge," I said. "I know you've stood in the snow for it. And I know you've gone home every night and kept your word, and I'm sick of your word."

He dropped the towel.

"You told me to ask for nothing."

"Then don't ask. I'm telling you."

I took hold of his shirt in both hands and pulled him down.

I kissed him.

It was not gentle.

It was my whole furious body going at his mouth.

He made a rough, hungry sound low in his chest.

The door slammed behind me.

His hands were in my hair, then at my waist, then under my coat.

He walked me back until the wall hit my spine.

"Say it again," he said against my mouth.

"Fuck me."

"Morven."

"Fuck me, Torin."

He lifted me off the floor.

I wrapped my legs around his hips and felt how hard he was through his jeans.

He was thick and hot against the seam of mine.

I ground down on him and cried out.

"You're sure."

"Don't you dare ask me twice."

"Just once." His breath shook. "You've been in a hospital bed two months."

"Ember healed me in a week. The healer said I could."

"The healer said that?"

"She said, and I quote, 'Don't come back and tell me you waited.'"

He laughed into my throat, helplessly.

Then he carried me through the dark house to his bed.

He laid me down and stood over me, breathing hard, with his hands at his belt.

"I'm not what I was before the babies," I said.

I had not meant to say it.

My stomach was soft, and the skin was silvered with faint lines.

I put my arm across it.

"Move it," he said.

"Torin."

"Move your arm."

I moved it.

He knelt on the bed and set his scarred hand flat on my belly.

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