Chapter 11: The Bond

"I'm going to the Hall," Rhys said, and his fingers closed hard around the phone. "I'm going to tell all of them."

"Not today."

"Willa."

"Not while you're angry. She'll cry, and the pack will watch you stand over her."

He looked at me.

I had said it quietly, and I could see him weigh it.

"Tomorrow," I said. "With Hattie's copied page, and with Hattie beside you, and with your father."

His jaw loosened.

"Tomorrow," Rhys said.

Hattie had already put on her parka in the doorway.

"I'm taking this boy to look at the ore boats," she said. "He's never seen one up close, and I'll be gone three hours. Do something useful."

She winked at me over her glasses, and she did not even pretend to be subtle.

Emil ran past in his sneakers with a toy truck in each hand.

The door shut behind them.

The suite went quiet.

I turned around, and Rhys was standing very still by the window.

"I don't want to fix anything today," I said. "I'm too tired. I only want to stop being angry for an hour."

"I can do that," he said.

"Come here."

He crossed the room in three steps.

I put my hands on his chest, over the shirt I had torn buttons off two days ago.

He had put on a different one.

"No rules this time," I said.

"None."

I undid the buttons slowly, one at a time.

His breath caught on every one.

I pushed the shirt off his shoulders and ran my palms over the scar on his ribs, and the other one on his shoulder I hadn't seen yet.

"What happened here?"

"A hockey stick. Season three."

"And this?"

"Don't ask."

I kissed it anyway.

He lifted me and carried me into the bedroom, and set me down on the bed with great care.

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