“Yep.”
“What’s your plan for tomorrow? Brunch with a unicorn?”
“As long as it doesn’t involve you, it’s fine with me.”
“So really? That’s it, just like that.” Curran turned around. “Wait a minute. Where is Hugh? Shouldn’t he be flexing for you?”
“I’m surprised you noticed.”
He squeezed his hands into fists. I picked up a grapefruit-sized rock and handed it to him. It went flying. Home run, Beast Lord style.
“I noticed. I just can’t do anything about it.”
“You know what the difference is? Hugh can stand there and flex all he wants. I can’t control what he does. I can control what I do and I don’t encourage him. You let her parade in front of you naked. You told me you had no interest in her and then you invited her to sit at the table in my chair. You went on a little rendezvous with her where you explained how you were lonely and cried about all the sacrifices you made by being with me.”
His eyes sparked with gold. “You. That was you on the balcony.”
“You spend every waking moment with her, while I get told endlessly that nobody has to answer any of my questions, because I’m clearly on my way out and she’s on her way in and since we’re not married, I’m easy to replace.”
“You want to get married? I’ll marry you right now. Is the gnome a preacher, because I’ll do it.”
“That’s a hell of a proposal.”
“What did he say?” Astamur asked.
“He wants me to marry him.”
Astamur relayed it. Atsany waved his pipe and Astamur translated back. Ha!
“What?” Curran snarled.
“Atsany says you’re not ready for marriage. You don’t have the right temperament for it.”
Curran struggled with that for a second.
“Let me know if your head’s going to explode, so I can duck.”
“We’re not married because every time I bring up marriage or children, you freak the hell out.”
“I don’t!”
“Three weeks ago I asked you if you wanted to have kids. You looked like you were ready to bolt.”
“I had just come from watching a child go loup for hours while trying to comfort her mother.” I waved my arms. “You know what, you’re right. Let’s have kids. Let’s have a brood of them. And when my asshole father comes through Atlanta burning it to the ground, we’ll both cry together as they die. Or worse, maybe our kids will be human.” I put my hand on my chest. “Heaven forbid.”
“Really? Human? What am I?” he snarled.
Ouch. “You’re a special snowflake, that’s what you are.” I mimicked Lorelei. “But they can never join you on a hunt. What torture . . .”
He stepped forward. “We’ve been together a year. How many times have you seen me hunt?”
Umm.
“How many times, Kate?”
“None.”
“That’s because I don’t hunt. I’m a male lion. I weigh six hundred pounds. Do you really expect me to scamper through the brush after deer? When I want a steak, I want a damn steak. I don’t want to chase it around the woods for two hours and then eat it raw. I have food brought to me, and the only time I get off my ass is when something threatens the Pack. I’ve been on exactly one hunt in the last three years. I went because I had to go, and once they ran off, I found a nice warm rock and had myself a nap in the sun. Do you know when the last time I really had to hunt to survive was? After my parents died. Until Mahon found me half-starved.”
I stared at him.
“Hunting together is something young werewolves do when they’re trying to learn how to work in a team. Most shapeshifters don’t cavort around in the woods, unless the urge to kill something strikes them. Do you have any idea how hard it is to actually catch a deer on foot? There is a reason why humans are the most successful predators on the damn planet. Lorelei doesn’t know this, because she’s young and naive and she has never been outside her uncle’s wolf pack. She never had to survive weeks in the forest, eating worms, mice, grasshoppers, and whatever other shit she could catch because she’s starving and desperate. She thinks every pack in the world follows the same pattern, but you know me. You know better. Or you should.”
I opened my mouth.
“I’m not done. Hugh understands this. He made that farce of a hunt because he gets off on making us run through the woods, fetching meat for him like we’re subhuman, like we’re his dogs, and then when we bring it back, he gives the one who debases himself the most a treat. If I didn’t have to keep Desandra breathing, I wouldn’t have gone. I just want to know, is that what you think of me? Am I a fucking dog to you?”