Chapter 23: She Chooses First

"Yes," I said.

The word went across the ring and rolled out over the kneeling wolves.

Alasdair let out a sound that was half laugh and half sob, and he did not seem to know that he had done it.

"But I'm not finished," I said.

He went still.

"You asked me in front of every wolf."

"Now I'm going to answer in front of every wolf, and I'm going to do it my way."

I stood up in his coat, barefoot in the dirt.

Then I took his face in both hands.

"Nine years you didn't look up," I said. "Look at me."

His eyes were amber, wide open, and fixed on mine.

"I choose you," I said. "I'm not claimed by you, and I'm not given to you."

"I'm the one doing the choosing, and I say it first."

"Say it as loud as you like," he said hoarsely.

"Hold still, Alpha."

I pulled the collar of his torn shirt aside.

His shoulder was hot and bare under my fingers, and the pulse in his neck was pounding.

I felt my wolf come up to the surface of my skin, and my teeth sharpened.

I bit down at the curve where his neck met his shoulder.

He cried out, rough and glad.

His hands clamped on my hips, and he lifted me clear off the ground.

Something burst open between us.

It was not pain, though there was pain in it.

It was heat and light and all the missing years pouring in at once, and I felt his heartbeat inside my own chest.

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