Conall’s arm tightened about her waist, and she turned to him. A little smile graced his lips, making him all the more irresistible to her. She thought back to the question at hand. Could she deny him? As she stared into his penetrating blue gaze, another question popped into her mind. Did she want to?
“You said I’m your mate,” she began softly, and Conall nodded once, waiting for her to continue. “How can you be sure?”
Conall’s eyes narrowed and Vivienne felt something caress her mind. It was light, like the flap of a butterfly’s wing, but it was still there.
“Are you in my head, again?”
He smiled, and she knew the presence she felt was him. “We usually recognize our mates in two ways: scent and attraction.”
“So you were attracted to me the first time that you saw me?”
“I was.” He also remembered that his attraction hadn’t been as strong as it was the next time he’d seen her in his club. Strange.
“And you smelled me?” she asked in slight disbelief. It wasn’t as if she were one of those women who bathed in perfume.
“You don’t have to wear perfume, Vivienne. You smell like peaches. Ripe, sun-kissed peaches.” He paused and his eyes flickered yellow for a brief second. “You taste like peaches, too. Everywhere.”
She felt a distinct throb in a place that had no business throbbing after what she and Conall had done only minutes ago. As the familiar heat began to rush through her body, Vivienne looked back to the ceiling. Okay, so maybe she was his mate. The attraction thing definitely stood. But how would she describe his scent? Unconsciously, she leaned closer to him and inhaled. Conall smelled of nature. Earthy and wild, like an untouched forest. She wasn’t a nature buff, but she wouldn’t mind smelling him every day.
“So what do mates do?” Vivienne asked slowly, returning her gaze to his. When a seductive smile touched Conall’s lips, she shook her head and smirked. “In addition to that. I mean, if I’m your mate, what do you expect from me? And what should I expect from you?”
Not if, Vivienne. I am your mate as you are mine. The words caressed her mind, but his voice was firm. His hand slid up to her face, cupping her chin as he leaned closer.
“A mate protects, serves, and treasures his mate above all else, until his dying breath.”
She swallowed. That sounded like a husband. Well, it sounded like something a husband was supposed to do. Some—many—fell short. Conall’s eyes flashed yellow.
“A mate is nothing like a husband.” His face had grown serious, his lips thinning out as if using the words “mate” and “husband” in the same sentence were distasteful to him. “Humans marry for different reasons, many of which are insignificant. Very few human marriages last and those that do are many times weak. A husband does not necessarily feel compelled to protect his wife, or his family. I’ve seen atrocities committed by a husband to his wife that would never occur had the male been a were with a true mate.” His eyes grew softer, his fingers traced her lips. “Wolves mate for life or we don’t mate at all.”
Vivienne nodded, even as the human part of her screamed that the whole mating thing sounded surreal. “So we’re mated?”
His eyes hooded and he allowed his fingers to move from her lips, down her throat, between her breasts, and finally to the small indentation that marked her navel.
“You are my mate, Vivienne,” he said slowly, the warm palms of his hand brushing across her belly. Her muscles leapt, and she stole a quick glance at his hand, tanned against the darker complexion of her skin, before looking back to him. An unreadable expression played over his face, a cross between being aloof and being annoyed. “But we are not yet fully mated.”
“Fully mated?”
“Yes. To be mated in the full sense of the word, we would have to complete a mating ceremony.”
“Mating ceremony?”
His face grew even more shuttered, and Vivienne’s eyes narrowed, sensing he was going to try to hide something from her. Before she could think on it, she closed her eyes, and concentrated on Conall, using their connection to get into his mind.
The image she saw in his mind shocked her to the core. In the middle of a clearing, surrounded by naked humans and pelted wolves, stood a woman and a man, both equally nude. The only person wearing clothing was a white-haired male who wore some sort of flowing, ivory robe. The image shifted, and another replaced it. The human female was on her knees, the male moving into position behind her….
Vivienne…. Conall trailed off. Another image took the place of the last, and Vivienne felt her heart race as she watched two wolves copulate, knowing instinctively that these were the two humans she’d seen just moments before.