His smile widened. “The clan females won’t have sex with me because they don’t want to bring an impure child into the world. I even had a vasectomy three years ago, so I couldn’t get anyone pregnant. I thought that would make me safe enough for the clan females to want me, but they still saw me as impure, as if just my touch would make them less pure-blooded.”
“I’m so sorry that they’ve been stupid, Ethan.”
He smiled, a little sad around the edges. “Me, too.”
Domino back home was a half-black and half-white tiger. He’d been security for the white clan, but just as alone as Ethan was; at least with Domino the white clan had found him in foster care and adopted him. They hadn’t bargained for his birth and then treated him badly. It seemed somehow worse.
I smiled at him. “Since I don’t want to get pregnant by anyone, it’s a plus for me. Your lycanthropy already protects you from any disease, so with me on the birth control, too, we’re about as safe as we can get.”
“Our lycanthropy,” Ethan said.
“What?”
“You’re a panwere, right? You just don’t change shape, so our lycanthropy protects us from any other disease but the lycanthropy.”
I frowned, because I hadn’t really thought about it like that. “I don’t know; since I can carry multiple strains of lycanthropy, I’m not a hundred percent sure I can’t catch other diseases.”
He nodded. “That’s true, so you still have to worry about STDs.”
“If I’m with humans,” I said.
“Are you ever with humans?”
“No, but I bet you do just fine with the human women,” I said.
He smiled, and it was almost shy. “I tried dating humans, but I can’t tell them what I am, and you can’t hide it forever.”
“No,” I said, “you can’t.”
“It’s like denying what I am, who I am. It’s almost lonelier than not having anyone in my arms.”
I nodded. “I had a boyfriend, a fiancé who wanted me to do the white picket fence—so not my gig.”
He grinned at me. “I can feel that you want me.” He leaned over me, sniffing against the side of my face. “I can still smell the scent of red, and white, and blue . . . and something else I’ve never smelled before. You smell sweet and . . . Why do I see gold in my head? A gold tiger.”
“Because part of you is gold.”
“That’s not possible,” he said.
“I can smell the truth on your skin.”
He drew in a deep breath.
“Gods, you smell like home.”
“I was told that gold tigers don’t look for home.”
He shook his head. “Then they must have already found it, because everyone looks for home in someone.” He whispered it as he turned his face against mine and put his lips on my cheek. It was almost a kiss, but not quite. His breath was warm against my skin.
My pulse was thick in my throat, my body tingling with his nearness. “Do you understand what could happen to you?” I tried to sound reasonable, but it came out as a hoarse whisper.
“I think so.”
“We just have to wait for Alex, and then we can think about it. You can have time to think about it.”
His hand cupped the side of my face, sliding his fingers into my hair. He kissed me, ever so softly on the other side of my face. “I don’t want to think.”
I closed my eyes as he rubbed his face against mine, like a cat scent-marking, his hand tightened in my hair enough that I made a small noise for him. “What do you want?”
“I want to go home,” he whispered.
I drew away enough to look into his eyes; they’d already gone soft, half-focused. His lips were parted, and his lower lip was wet as if he’d licked it. The ardeur pushed at me; the tigers slapped at me, raking their claws down the inside of my body so that I half-crumpled in his arms. He caught me, held me, his face all concern. “Are you all right?”
I nodded. I was, but I wouldn’t be if I fought too much longer. I thought about Alex, and I felt him, he was coming, but I felt his irritation with his mother; she’d delayed him. He was too far away, I couldn’t hold out . . . I smelled Ethan’s skin and was honest with myself: I didn’t want to hold out. Yes, it was the ardeur, yes, it was the tigers inside me, but it was also his loneliness. I’d been lonely for years; I knew what it was like to be different and have no one love you for it.
“Are you all right?” he asked again, his hands on my arms now, as if he were afraid I’d fall.
“I will be,” I said.
“What can I do?”