And worse, up until the very end, he'd convinced himself that it was his responsibility to feed her. No wonder he'd been so fucked up.
That cottage still stood today in the Woods of Murk, a constant reminder of his weakness.
"Ruelle took much from me," he said, the understatement obvious.
"But now you've a future to look forward to," Munro said. "Everyone likes your mate. She fits in-even with wolves. That's no' something just any mortal can boast of."
"Everything feels different now that she's in my life. Munro, I think I can bed Chloe." He'd kept his beast on the leash, hadn't wanted to miss-or rush through-a single second of her first orgasm.
He'd been there, mindful. He'd won the day. If Will could take Chloe like a normal man, Ruelle would finally lose.
"You think you can bed her?" Munro looked uncomfortable. "You'd best be sure. If your beast rose . . . it would be a horrific way for a mortal to die."
"We were"-Will gazed around-"intimate. And I kept the beast in its cage. With her, I can."
"But the risk!"
He exhaled a gust of breath. "Aye, I know. You're right. Wishful thinking on my part. I would never jeopardize her." He took a swig of his beer. "Hey, dinna Garreth get a talisman from the witches to curb his beast?"
Munro nodded. "Doona know all the details. Just know he would no' recommend the H.O.W. in matters of the beast."
"I canna believe I'm about to say this, but I wish I had my goddamned torque." As soon as Will had been freed of it, he'd flung it into the ocean.
Though hated, that collar had taught him much about himself. He'd realized how much he depended on his beast, how much it defined him.
"You'd wear it once more?"
"For her? Oh, aye." After the day he'd had with Chloe, Will was shamed to have confused what he'd felt for Ruelle with a mate's bond. Already he was experiencing a soul-deep need for Chloe, stronger than he'd ever imagined. Chest bowed out, he said, "She's bluidy perfect for me, brother. Aside from her family, I love everything about her."
Again Munro looked less than comfortable. "This is moving verra fast. Even by matehood standards."
Chloe had yanked Will back from the brink. It made sense that he'd now be falling backward, falling for her. Will shrugged. "When you know, you know."
The more he learned about her, the more fascinated he became. She'd never had a nip of alcohol, because she'd been so serious about training. She was a smart-arse with a clever wit, and a tomboy uneasy in the girly clothes the clan had brought her. She was constantly fiddling with her skirt, and when she'd caught him glancing down her billowy blouse, she'd been startled, as if she'd forgotten she was showing skin. Will figured his lass was most accustomed to a jersey and cleats.
At his earliest opportunity, he would take her past the wall and buy her a new wardrobe of whatever she fancied. He didn't give a damn what she wore-as long as she came naked to their bed.
These discoveries came on the heels of what he'd learned in the glade today. Though innocent, his mate was lusty and sexually curious. The hungry way she'd stared at his cock . . . He scrubbed his hand over his face, stifling a groan. His Chloe had wanted to suck it.
He couldn't remember the last blow job he'd received. They'd been short-lived, because his beast would rise without fail. And the beast had no patience for them, would always turn the female on her hands and knees for a crude and brutal rutting.
If Will could seize control from his beast, he could look forward to a thousand new experiences with Chloe.
A fresh start with her-in all ways.
"So tell me what it's like to love everything about her." Munro drank his whiskey. "Is this no' the way of it? The attraction to a mate?"
"Nay, I've discovered something. I always thought you were compelled to like things about your female because she was your mate. The truth is, she's my mate because I like everything about her."
Munro looked a shade skeptical.
Will couldn't tell him how well they'd meshed sexually, not without admitting how badly he'd needed a woman to look into his eyes and trust that he would take her where she needed to go. So he said, "She's fierce as a wee Lykae. And nothing like Webb. Was outraged over the things I told her about her father. She actually wanted to know how I was doing after finding my mate."
"You're taking the piss."
"Nay! And she likes me just as well. Has agreed to stay with me for a week, to give us a shot."
"Even though you plan to kill her father?"
Will was conflicted on this, knowing he probably oughtn't to kill his mate's sire, no matter the circumstances. "Hell, it's likely someone else will get to him before I do."
"What are you going to do about her mortality?"
"I've got to find a way to turn her." All day, the more he recognized how perfect she was for him, the more he'd dreaded her mortality.
Theoretically, Chloe could be turned into a Lorean, but the catalyst for the transformation was death.
If Will tried to turn her into his kind, he would have to bite her-then kill her. If she managed to survive, the beast would rise up in her so strong that she wouldn't be able to control it for years. If ever. Vampires had much more success at turning humans than Lykae did.
Transforming her into the type of creature who'd killed their mother?
Even these grim options had to be considered. He gazed over at her companionably sipping beers with Ronan. Will sighed when she tugged at her wee skirt.
"What about the Olympics?" Munro asked.
Again, Will felt a flare of pride for his mate, shockingly strong. Pride was not an emotion he was accustomed to these days. "I wouldn't turn her until after the Games. I doona know how that will work out, but I'll figure out some way to get her there." The only way to take the heat off her would be to find Webb, feed him to the Pravus. Which he hadn't been able to do before-and there was scant time left before she was due in Europe.
"Speaking from experience, I suggest turning her sooner rather than later. Mortals . . . they perish so readily," Munro said as a flash of sorrow crossed his expression. He had his own past tragedies as well. "What species were you considering? Vampire? Demon?" He took a slug of whiskey. "Nix would know."
Will had already put in a call to the soothsayer. "I've contacted her."
Munro nodded. "In the meantime, the full moon's in eight days. We can do as we did with Garreth."
Knowing that no cage or chains could keep him from his mate when the moon was full, Garreth had ordered them to break his legs repeatedly-so he couldn't reach his spooked female.
"Aye," Will said easily. "Anything to keep her safe." Had Chloe just rubbed her forehead? Will stalked off without another word, hurrying toward her. She probably had a headache. Judging by commercials, mortals got splitting headaches all the sodding time.
"What's wrong?" he asked when he stood before her. "Is Ronan pestering you? Do you have a headache?"
"No, not at all." Her words were slurring. "Feel great."
His gaze flickered over her face, and his lips curled. "Aye, 'cause you're drunk."
She blinked up at him. "I am?"
"You've had a dram too much. I should no' have let you drink this soon after your injury. But you look so healthy, your color so good, I forgot." He swung her up in his arms, and she laughed. Ach, the sound of it! "My mortal needs sleep. Off to bed, love."