I put my hand in his, and his palm is rough and hot, and the second our skin meets the bond hits me all over again like a wave.
Kester: Breathe.
From Kester's side: her hand is so small in mine that my chest cracks open, and my wolf goes quiet for the first time since Tove died.
I think I can hold her hand for one fucking breath before the fear comes back.
The whole pack holds its breath, and then Trudie's nails dig into my shoulder from behind.
Trudie: You think the Alpha wants a used-up little bitch like you?
Trudie: He'll drop you in the sand, and I'll have the hide off your back.
Kester's head turns just enough for Trudie to see his eyes, and the sound of the circle drops away to nothing.
Kester: Get your fucking hand off her.
Kester: Now.
Trudie's hand drops off my shoulder like I burned her, and behind me a few wolves laugh at something Coburn says, but it all sounds far away.
The Alpha's thumb moves over my bruised wrist, and I feel it in my teeth.
From Kester's side: the bruise on her wrist is mine, four red bars and the shape of my thumb.
My wolf shows me Tove's grave, and the fear comes up my throat like bile.
He stares at the bruise he gave me, and his jaw is so tight I hear his teeth grind.
I know I should pull my hand back, but my wolf is singing and for once I let her.
From Kester's side: every wolf in this circle is waiting for me to say the word, and I open my mouth with the fear hot and thick on my tongue.
I hold her hand tighter instead of saying anything at all.
Someone in the crowd whispers, and Coburn answers with a grin.
Coburn: Look at her. She's shaking like a bitch in heat.
Coburn: Alpha's gonna fuck her right here on the sand.
From Kester's side: my wolf wants Coburn's throat in his teeth.
Kester: Say one more word about her and I'll break your fucking jaw.
The circle goes quiet like every wolf in it is holding one breath.
He does not say mate, but he says her like he owns the word.
My heart is going so fast I feel it in my throat, and for the first time the whole pack is looking at me and I am not nothing.
From Kester's side: I can feel her pulse in her fingers, quick and hopeful, and I can see in her eyes that she thinks I am about to claim her.
And I am so fucking scared of what happens if I do.
The river moves behind us, the pack waits, and Kester's hand is still in mine.
I do not care about the sand or the laughing or the bruise, because for one breath I let myself hope he will keep me.