Wulfric

"Want me to show you?" Griffin said. His voice was a husky whisper that made me want to take everything he was offering me, but there were a couple of problems with that. Primarily, that we had nowhere private to go. I briefly entertained the idea of kicking Arlo out of his room for an hour or two, but I knew better.

Griffin might talk a good game. He might act bold and explorative, and he might touch me like he had a lot of experience, but after all my reading about his species, I understood that I had to treat him gently, at least for now. He had clearly kissed someone before. Maybe if he'd been feeling really adventurous, he would have even done some heavy petting. Whatever experience he thought he had, it was nothing compared to what I would do to him. Werewolves liked to go from zero to a hundred with their mates, and I was sure Griffin was no exception. He wouldn't understand how we could fool around without becoming fully committed, and the hard reality was that we were nowhere near ready for that. So, better not.

"Patience," I whispered to Griffin, and kissed him again to stop any follow-up questions. Or, that was one reason. Mostly, I kissed him because I needed closeness with Griffin like I needed blood. This connection felt vital to me, like having a phantom limb miraculously returned. Deep inside, I recognized him as the piece my life had always been missing.

Griffin bucked his hips up and ground against me, something that must have taken impressive abdominal strength when he was laying beneath me. What else could this toned body of his could do?

I pulled back and pressed a kiss to his temple, hoping that would soothe any small rejection he felt when I shifted back into a seated position. Griffin sat up and shot me a rueful smile while one hand teased at his hair, which was mussed.

"Fine, but you don't know what you're missing," he said.

"Do you?" I couldn't resist teasing.

But that only made his smile falter. His body language closed off, with his hand leaving his hair so his arms could cross and his posture drawing inward. "I can't decide if you're being racist," he said softly.

"What?"

He glared at me. "I said, I can't decide if you're being racist. You sure have a lot of assumptions about what a werewolf is supposed to be like."

How had the mood shifted so quickly? Griffin looked truly angry with me now. "I apologize, I meant no offense."

"If there's an idea in your head of what I should be like, you're going to be disappointed," he said. He still held the same angry posture, and his eyebrows were still drawn in to glare at me. Something in his eyes shifted, though, and I recognized this for what it was: Griffin was lashing out to cover up his insecurity.

"I could say the same to you," I said. In fact, I was certain I had already been the cause of much disappointment for Griffin since I entered his life. He would have expected a mate who would instantly snatch him up, whispering promises of forever. Not a vampiric shut-in who pushed him away.

That seemed to make Griffin pause, and he squinted at me like he was trying to figure me out. "My mom gave me away when I was a toddler," he said. I stared, trying to see where he was going with this and failing. "I'm twenty-one and I still live at home with my parents," Griffin continued. "My life isn't going anywhere. I have no sense of direction, no career path I'm pursuing. My only real friend is my cousin. My hair is too frizzy and my eyes are too far apart. I'm pretty sure my left foot is a little bigger than the right one. I'm afraid of airplanes, so all our family vacations had to be local. I've never kept a job for more than a couple of months, even the ones in my own pack. And..."

He hesitated, and I wanted to tell him that this was enough. He didn't need to keep listing out everything he thought was wrong with himself. But something held my tongue. Some sense that, perhaps, this was a necessary purge. And whatever he had saved for last was probably what bothered him the most, based on the way his words had faltered. I didn't have to wait long for Griffin to finish.

"And I'm a slut. I can't do anything right. I couldn't even wait for my mate." Griffin covered his face with his hands and he pulled his limbs so far inward, it was like he was trying to roll up into a little ball.

What does one say to this? How could I possibly respond to such an outpouring? Obviously, I had to say something to show I was unaffected by his last revelation. "I've never enjoyed sex with a virgin, anyway."

He peeked up at me, obviously still distraught, but also interested.

"It's true. I've lain with several of them and the experience is much the same. Fumbling, blushing, shy men who need treated like a delicate flower. It's boring." Sometimes it was even painful, as they didn't quite have the knack of relaxing themselves around the intrusion of sex yet.

"I always liked sleeping with virgins," Griffin said softly. His hands still covered most of his face, but stopped just below his eyes now. He watched me intently, and I thought he seemed to feel a little better once he saw I wasn't upset over his words. "Men or women. They're always so eager to please, and so sweet. Besides, it's fun to make people blush. And not all of them are fumbling or unsure of themselves."

I shrugged as if it didn't matter, though in truth I was happy that he was getting drawn away from self-deprecation. "To each their own, I suppose." Then a thought occurred to me and I laughed a little, adding, "Though I hope you didn't enjoy virgins too much. Your opportunity to take them has substantially diminished."

As I expected, he relaxed and smiled with me when I hinted at our situation.

"I think I'll be okay," he said, smiling at me like I hung the moon.

"Good," I said, smiling back. "And as for the rest... well, I don't like airplanes either."

Griffin unfurled and wrapped himself around me, pinning my arms down with a forceful hug. My inhuman strength was the only thing that allowed me to wrench my arms from his hold so I could return the embrace. Griffin sighed, a contented little sound, as he pressed his face against my side.

"Thank you," he said, and his words were muffled enough that I barely caught their meaning.

My heart ached with tenderness, and I was glad he couldn't see my expression. "You have nothing to thank me for," I assured him. I stroked his hair, which was not too frizzy, whatever he seemed to think about it. It was an intriguing mix of wavy strands and spiraling curls on top, and the sides were shaved shorter. When I pulled on a lock, it sprang back and I couldn't fight off a smile. "And I like your hair."

Griffin's heartrate picked up and my jaw ached with the effort of keeping back my fangs. I bet he was delicious, and I hoped he would let me sample his blood someday. Maybe he would even let me fulfil one of my longest-held fantasies. Since I had never lain with someone who could know the truth of me, I'd never gotten to mix blood and sex. Since my siblings had all forsaken their immortality as soon as they met their soulmates, none of them had tried it either, so I had no idea how pleasurable it might be. In my imaginings, it was euphoric.

Something brushed over my crotch, which had hardened. Griffin smirked up at me and ran his hand over my length again. "I could help you with this, you know."

Was he always so bold? I could only imagine the success he'd had in the past picking people up with his eyes full of mischief, plump lips, and his features, which were timelessly attractive. The idea of people being drawn into Griffin's charms was overwhelming, and I gently lifted his chin so I could kiss him again. As we moved together, my mind was full of images of him in compromising situations. With hair like his, it wouldn't be hard to make him look positively debauched. When I pulled away, his lips were redder and slightly parted, his eyes hazy with lust. He was the loveliest thing I had ever seen.

"What was that for?" Griffin asked, smiling affectionately.

"Need I have a reason?" I asked teasingly.

"Noooo," he answered, drawing out the word as he seemed to think about it. "Well, yes. Only because I want to know what I can do to make you do that more in the future."

Did I dare explain?

Explaining is the only way to actualize what I want, I thought. "I was imagining your past conquests and how you might have seduced them."

He studied me, biting at his lip and squinting like he was trying to figure out some complex problem. "Doesn't it bother you?"

"Should it?"

He kept studying me another few moments, and then his expression gave way to a wide smile. "I'm starting to understand why my mate wasn't another werewolf."

I laughed at that. "I never understood the stereotypical werewolf jealousy, anyway. Your species is blessed with knowing who their other half is. Once you find your mate, you know without any doubt that this person is yours. Why does it matter what came before, when your bond is so irrefutable?"

"I think that's the problem. We all know we have someone out there, and we know we'll probably find them someday. Some people consider messing around with someone who isn't your mate cheating, even if you haven't met yet," Griffin explained.

I didn't want to insult his species or culture, but that was idiotic. He must have read that in my expression, because he defensively added, "I never said I agreed with that mentality."

"Sure," I agreed. Whether he thought he agreed or not, he seemed to have felt immense guilt about acting on his carnal desires before meeting me.

Griffin sighed and leaned back against the couch. "I'm done talking about this. Let's-"

A knock sounded on the front door and we rearranged ourselves on the couch so we were more traditionally seated side-by-side. I rested a hand on Griffin's thigh after a few seconds, since it made me feel unsettled to be so near to him and not connected. Griffin covered my hand with his own just as Safiya emerged from the magic shop to answer the door. She winked at us as she passed, and Griffin's cheeks warmed in response. I hoped people would keep teasing him where I could see, because his reaction was always adorable.

The door opened to reveal a woman and child on the porch. The woman's hair was soaking wet as though she had just been submerged in water, though curiously, not a drop dripped onto the floor. It was a deep green color, and the way it hung in clumps reminded me of seaweed. The boy looked more human until he smiled at Safiya, revealing two rows of teeth pointed like daggers. The woman's limpid eyes looked otherworldly, and I felt a shiver run down my spine when she glanced toward me and Griffin.

After all my research into the supernatural species of the world, I thought I knew what she was: sea nymph. The magic only passed to female children, so if this was her son, he would be mostly human. He would have gotten just a few inherited physical features from his mother's people, like his teeth. It was fascinating. What was a mother to do with a child who couldn't dwell underwater with her?

"Anahita! I was worried when we didn't see you yesterday," Safiya said, giving the woman a brief hug.

"We spent our day on land. Sargon's father had the day off and wished to spend it with him," the woman said.

"Well, we've got your order waiting behind the counter," Safiya said. To the boy, she added, "Are you ready to get back to the ocean?"

He nodded shyly, and Safiya ushered the pair into the magic shop.

Another knock sounded on the door just minutes later. Glenna came in to answer it this time, moving quickly but elegantly. She looked through the peephole and glanced at us with wide eyes before opening the door to reveal Griffin's father, Everett.

He obviously wasn't expecting to see Griffin here, just as Griffin obviously wasn't expecting him to arrive. "Dad? What are you doing here?" Griffin finally asked.

Everett finally unfroze and stepped into the house. He nodded his greeting at Glenna with a closed-mouth smile before returning focus to his son. "I wanted to make sure everything here was under control. When I left last night, it was all very unsettled."

Griffin stiffened and glanced at me, projecting obvious confusion. "What do you mean, last night? You were here?"

Everett ran a hand through his hair in just the same way Griffin sometimes did. "Yeah, we haven't really had a chance to catch up since then, have we? Your father and I came to offer our assistance to Wulfric."

"I'd better get back to the shop," Glenna interjected. "Does anyone need anything while I'm here?"

"We're all set, thanks," Everett answered. She waved at us and Everett came to sit in a chair across from our sofa as she left.

Griffin didn't seem to know whether to look at me or his father. After a few moments, he settled on me. "Why didn't you mention they were here? What were they doing?"

"It didn't seem worth mentioning," I said. In fact, it hadn't even occurred to me to mention Griffin's parents to him.

My answer seemed to frustrate my little soulmate, who turned on his father with obvious irritation. "Dad?"

Everett held up his hands in placation. "We were going to tell you about it when we saw you, but you were gone early this morning."

Griffin held his annoyance for a few more seconds before sagging back against the couch. I wanted to wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him into me, but I was keenly aware of his father's eyes watching our every move, so I held still.

"Okay, but what were you doing here?" Griffin asked.

Everett launched into a succinct summary of our evening: the blood spell, looking for Benedict, and finding my father. Everett couldn't speak to anything that happened after that, and before long, both werewolves fixed their attention on me.

I didn't want to talk about my conversation with my father or its ramifications for Griffin. It would likely not be a pleasant conversation, and I was happy to put it off while we got to know each other. There were so many more important, more interesting things to do and discuss than the particulars of my curse.

But the way Griffin was looking at me made it clear I wasn't going to get out of this so easily. It wasn't that he looked demanding. If he had, I probably would have shut down the conversation out of pure mulishness. Rather, he looked worried. "Wulf?" Griffin prodded softly.

Wulf. It was a nickname usually reserved for family. It used to drive me crazy when strangers shortened my name, because rather than sounding like an endearment, it would sound mocking, like they were calling me the name of an animal. Not so with Griffin. It was... nice. It made me feel warm. What could I call him in return? Griff? No, I wasn't sure I liked that. It didn't suit him at all.

Griffin's bright eyes pleaded with me for answers, and I could do nothing but give in. "Alright," I conceded, and took a few moments to figure out how best to explain.

How was one meant to tell their soulmate they were making a choice to be together, but separate? Would Griffin understand how important it was that I maintain my immortality? Even if he understood, would he forgive me for what that would do to our lives together?

I wasn't sure I was ready to find out.