much as alarm her. Knowing she needed the combination, that it was hardwired into her just as much as her need to submit.
He arched an eyebrow. “I don’t think I like your tone.” He watched her struggle with conflicting emotions. Her desire to fight for dominance warred with her impulse to please him. Interesting. He let his senses expand, opened the bond as he tried to figure her out. She was one of the highest-ranking females in the pack. There was only one way to achieve her position: fight.
But her mind didn’t feel like a warrior’s. She was willing to fight. She wouldn’t hesitate.
She got no joy from it, and she’d somehow managed to learn to contain that part of her, separate from the rest. Almost as if she was ensuring she wasn’t contaminated. He’d never felt a mind like hers, divided like hers.
“You were not born to be a dominant member of the pack,” he said, the realization stunning. “Not as dominant as you are, at least.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, defensive. Cagey. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, I was.”
“No, darlin’.” He shook his head. “You weren’t. Don’t worry. I don’t have any interest in taking it from you, but haven’t you ever felt divided? Torn between that public life you lead and what you want personally? Privately?”
He saw right away that he’d hit a nerve.
“Tell me,” he demanded, keeping his voice soft and gentle, every instinct he had urging him to go to her, to shelter her as she told her secret desires, but it was too soon. She didn’t trust him enough yet.
“I wouldn’t know where to start,” she murmured, sounding so confused and dejected it hurt his chest.
He glanced at Ethan and registered his stunned expression—he hadn’t had a clue about these revelations. Harris decided to push her a bit.
“You start by letting us help you. Do you want to be held, Gabby? Do you need it? Ethan is right next to you, and I’m only a few feet away.”
She bit her bottom lip and looked over at Ethan from below lowered lashes. Harris was instantly throbbing hard. He wanted her to look at
To know she could come to them. There was a lot he wanted to demand of her, but she had a right to demand a few things in return.
“Gabby? Look at me, baby,” Ethan said. He waited until she did before going on with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “I’m right here.” Harris held his breath when she moved. She let Ethan pull her into his arms, burying her face in his chest with a heaved, almost sobbed breath that was easy to read as relief. Ethan held her tightly, close, one hand lazily stroking her back until finally she calmed and broke away.
Harris knew better than to smile. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Come back to the couch. I need you to tell me about this.”
Reluctance was in her every step. When she was close enough, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into her previous position on his lap. She was stiff, but she didn’t try to escape, and Ethan came over to sit next to them. She relaxed as he drew closer, but Harris was pretty sure she wasn’t aware of it. The mating bonds at work? He wanted it to be so much more. Wanted it to be an emotional response that had nothing to do with the bonds they’d forced on her.
Ethan lowered himself next to them, watching. Curious. Cautious. “Talk to us, baby.”
“And tell you what? I…have desires that don’t fit what I am. That frankly freak me out. A few years ago, I thought maybe it would be possible to be…these two different people.”
“Why did you stop believing that?” Ethan asked.
She chuckled. “Too bad you can’t see how you treat your woman of the week in front of the pack. They’re all submissive females. Ever notice that?” Her bitterness was sharp and hurt and angry in his mind. A shock. But nothing compared to what Ethan was feeling if his face was anything to judge by. He was stunned. A little angry. It frustrated Harris. He didn’t know how deeply this animosity ran between them or how to fix it.
Ethan lurched to his feet and stalked away. When he whirled back to face the couch, Harris considered throwing a telekinetic punch at him, the fury etched on his face was so easy to read.
“Don’t go there, Gabby. Just…don’t. You have spent your whole life keeping me at arm’s length. When did you realize I was your mate? How long have you known? Because sometimes I think I was born knowing.”
He couldn’t disguise the hurt in his voice, and though Harris was tempted, so tempted, to call a halt to this conversation, to all the painful revelations, he knew he couldn’t. They all needed to get this out. But damn, it was hard to watch Ethan hurting like that. To feel Gabby’s pain and confusion and panic. The three of them were supposed to be one unit. It didn’t matter who’d been together first, which of them had accepted the other first. But they couldn’t get on with the future until they dealt with the past.
“Damn it, Gabby, how long?”
She shrank away from Ethan’s fury, molding herself to Harris’s chest, and he shot Ethan a warning look. Ethan turned his back for a moment, shoving his hands through his hair. He was calmer, on the surface at least, when he turned back around.
“Gabby?”
“I don’t know.” She sighed. “I had a suspicion when I was sixteen, maybe a little younger.”
Gods. Harris felt for Ethan, understood why he’d armored himself as he had. What was that? Ten years? Eleven? Ethan stood across from them, hands clenched at his sides, body strumming with tension.
“Did you even care what that did to me, baby? Even a little bit?” he asked so softly Harris almost missed it.
But Gabby didn’t. Her head snapped up, eyes flashing yellow. Regret and annoyance shimmered through their bond.
“You’re three years older than me. Do you know what I remember most about you from when we were
