Chapter 10: Morwen: Say It to My Face

Morwen's POV

I woke up burning, with something enormous turning over inside my ribs.

It was not the fever.

The fever was gone, and this was alive, and awake, and pacing.

Someone was standing in my doorway, and I knew who it was before I opened my eyes.

I knew him by his smell, which was impossible, and by the sound of his breath.

The pull in my chest leaned toward him.

"Lucan," I said.

"I'm here."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing." His voice was rough. "Your scent came back. I felt it from the corridor."

I sat up with the blankets tangled around my legs.

I could see him clearly in the dark, every edge of him, the pulse in his throat and the white line of his knuckles on the door.

My wolf looked at him and said yes.

That was the only word I had for it.

"I'm your mate," I said slowly.

"You are."

"Then you can say it now. You told me on our wedding night that you couldn't say why you waited a year."

He went still.

"Say it," I said.

"I had a scout on Graymoor's border," Lucan said. "From the week after I left your boathouse."

My stomach dropped.

"He wrote to me every second Sunday, and I read every page."

"Did he write that men came for me?"

"Twice. They left after an hour."

"You knew." I was out of the bed. "A man watched me walk to the boathouse and back, and wrote it down, and you read it."

"The law..."

"You are the law!"

"A prince can't enter another pack's land unless the ward asks."

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