The Burning Claw (The Grey Wolves #10)(28)

“You may think that I am this poor, naive little girl, but I’m a grown woman. Maybe I’m ignorant in some ways, but I’m grown nonetheless and you will respect that and acknowledge it or I will walk away. I was a prisoner for eleven years and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be one again. Not in any way.”
Drake didn’t understand where this was coming from or why it was so important to her. They’d only known each other a week and he figured she’d want to get to know one another better before they even started kissing, but she just kept pushing. “Why?” He was attempting to focus on that question so that he could distract his wolf from the fact that their mate had just threatened to leave them. If he allowed himself to dwell on that he was pretty sure that he’d destroy a hell of a lot more than a lamp. Maybe anger management classes were something he should look into.
“What?” she snapped, caught off guard by the question.
“Why?” he repeated. “Why do you want this so badly? Why do you want something you don’t know anything about?”
Bethany threw her hands up in the air and began pacing back and forth in front of the couch with quick little steps. She felt as though standing still had suddenly become beyond her ability. “Why? Are you freaking kidding me? You feed me this bull about your kind, your species,” she spit the word at him. “Needing touch, needing closeness, because it’s so important and necessary and yet you hardly ever touch me. You feed me all this crap and then question why I want to be touched. For eleven years the only time I was touched was when they fed from me. The only touch I’ve known was violent and vile. My skin crawls every time I think of it and every time I shower I scrub myself raw hoping that I can get the feel of their cold flesh from my own. Why? Why?” Bethany laughed a humorless, empty laugh. “Can you imagine living for eleven years without a hug, without a pat on the shoulder, without a squeeze, a nudge, even a handshake? Why does anyone need touch, Drake? Canis lupus aren’t the only ones who need to feel wanted, needed, loved, desired. Those are human needs too.” She glanced over at the clock on the wall and when she looked back at him her face was devoid of the emotions that only moments ago were written all over her. 
Dread filled Drake’s stomach as Bethany took a backward step toward the door. “You know what? Just forget it. I don’t want your hands on me. In fact, you aren’t allowed to touch me.”
“Bethany, don’t,” he warned.
“You forfeited that right when you decided I was too stupid to understand my own feelings and wants and needs. Do not attempt to touch me, Drake.”
“Don’t say that,” Drake said his anger turning to desperation. “You don’t understand how our magic works. You have to be careful with your words. Take it back.”
“No.”
“Bethany, take it back. Now.”
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared back at him defiantly. “No. It’s my body and I decide who touches it. I don’t have to endure unwanted hands on me anymore. And your hands are most definitely unwanted. Now,” —she glanced at the clock again— “I have somewhere to be.” She turned on her heel and marched toward the door. Her back was ramrod straight and her shoulders pulled back proudly.
“What do you mean you have somewhere to be? Where are you going?” Drake hurried after her.
“Out and none of your business.”
“It is my business. You are my mate. I have every right—”
“NO,” she growled, turning swiftly as she opened the door. “You gave up your rights to me when you decided I was incapable of knowing what I wanted or needed because I was too young-minded. I’d rather be without you than to be made to feel like a naughty child for expressing my desires. I would rather be alone and believe me, Drake, that is something my simple, young mind can comprehend. I’ve got alone down to an art form.”
The door slammed behind her and he was left staring at the spot where she’d been. What had just happened? How had things gone from him touching the marks on her leg to her forbidding his touch and then leaving? And where the hell was she going and with whom?
It took a strength he didn’t know he possessed to open the door and walk out calmly. He followed her trail until it ended at the library and there he stood, careful to stay out of the way of any vents that might carry his scent inside.
She was angry with him, fine. But she wasn’t leaving him. Not when she hadn’t even given them a real chance. If he had to follow her around like a miserable puppy, then that’s what he’d do.
Chapter 9
“Never underestimate the strength of solidarity found in a pack of women. It can put a pack of wolves to shame any day of the week. Poor, poor, little male fur balls. The Great Luna help anyone that hurts one of our girls. We will de-man you, de-fur you, de-pride you, and de-anything else we can think of to remind you that we will not be silent, passive mates bending to your every whim. Get over yourselves, dudes. Contrary to what you think, you are not all that. You’re just flea-infested, overbearing, pompous jackasses. Hot? Yes. Sexy? Yes. Irresistible? Sorry, but no. And because we care so much, we will gladly bring you down several notches from the high horses you sometimes put yourselves on. Courtesy of your friendly female pack leader.” ~JenJen laid back and stretched out her legs, hanging them over the armrest of the loveseat. Her long, blonde hair flowed down over the side of the opposite armrest. This was a familiar pose for the she-wolf when she was in the library hanging with her friends. Tonight, however, it was friend, singular. Jacque occupied the other couch and there was an emptiness to the room without Sally’s presence.
“So is Bethany okay, then?” Jacque asked after Jen brought her up to speed on the evening’s drama.
“I think so. She won’t be scarred for life or anything. Although teaching her what and how to use a tampon was not one of my best moments.”
“Well, it was something practical and non-sexual, so it’s understandable that you wouldn’t give it your best effort,” Jacque quipped.
“Shut up, Red. Like you could have done any better,” Jen glowered. “Speaking of the new she-wolf, I invited her tonight.”
“And I’m sorry I’m late.” A sweet voice came from the doorway. Their heads whipped around as Bethany closed the door behind her and then turned to stare back at them.
“Better late than too early,” Jen sang. “Come in, come in. Join us if you dare.”
“If I dare? Are you two planning a murder or hatching some evil plan to take over the world?” Bethany joked, as she came further in and took the empty chair between the couches.
“Been there, done that.” Jacque waved her off. “We’ve moved on to ways to torment our mates.”
“Well, that is a lesson I’m totally on board with. How can I help?” Bethany asked, rubbing her hands together eagerly.
Jen flung herself up and spun on her butt to face the newcomer. “What did that future rug do?” she growled. She knew her eyes were glowing because Bethany’s brow rose and her mouth dropped open. If Drake had hurt her, Jen was going to castrate him, without anesthesia.
Jacque sat up as well and faced her. “Did he hurt you? I mean, there’s no way he would physically hurt you. It’s engrained in their DNA to be unable to strike their mate, but stupid wasn’t bred out of them, so hurting us emotionally, that, they are totally capable of.”
Jen could tell that Bethany needed to talk about it. There was a burning ache in her eyes and yet she wasn’t sure if she should.
“I don’t want you guys to think I’m stupid.”
Jen rolled her eyes. “Girl, please. You have a vagina. We’d never think you’re stupid.”
“What,” Jacque quickly interjected, “my weird friend is trying to say is—”
Jen interrupted. “Hoes before bros. Chicks before dicks. Sisters before misters. Girls before…” Jen paused. “Well, whatever rhymes with girls, you get the picture.” 
“Wow,” Jacque said with wide eyes. “Well, if you weren’t scared before, you probably are now. Jen has no filter. As in nada, zero, completely absent of.”
“Like that needed to be explained,” Jen chastised. “Now, back to the future eunuch werewolf. What did he do?” she asked again.
“We had a fight.”
“About?” Jacque prompted the obviously reluctant girl.
“Touching.”
“Did that ass touch you without your consent? If he so much as laid a fingertip on a body part that you did not authorize, I will—”
“No,” Bethany interrupted Jen quickly. “No, in fact, it’s the exact opposite. He won’t touch me.” A single tear slid down Bethany’s face and it tore at Jen’s heart.
“What do you mean?”
“He thinks of me like a child, a little girl, because I don’t have knowledge of the physical aspects of a relationship. I mean, I know a little. It’s not like the vampires didn’t talk…a little too vividly at times. I understand the mechanics of how babies are made but—”
“You’re unknowledgeable about foreplay,” Jen offered.