War of Hearts (True Immortality 1)

Sienna Canid’s face infiltrated Conall’s thoughts, and he nearly swerved off the road with the jolt it gave him.

Jesus fuck.

Sienna.

He’d fucking forgotten.

Sienna.

The betrothal.

Everything.

What the bloody hell?

“Sorry. Too personal?”

A tight feeling crawled across Conall’s chest at the realization he was supposed to be getting engaged upon his return home. Before he’d left Torridon, the idea of betrothal hadn’t touched him apart from giving him satisfaction that the pack’s future would be assured.

Now … now he felt trapped.

Fuck.

“Conall?”

He threw Thea an impatient look. Bloody lass was ruining everything. “No,” he bit out. “And a mating differs from marriage. Most wolves marry as finding your true mate is rare.”

“Rare?”

Deciding that explaining pack life was as good a distraction as any, he replied, “Aye. My parents were true mates but they’re the only true mates our pack has seen in a century. It’s an inexplicable bond and as rare as it is, it’s also rare to see a true mating ever dissolve. The love of true mates is said to be as passionate at the end as it is from day one. My parents’ relationship attested to it. But most wolves, like humans, enjoy relationships and marriage. Some pack marriages are arranged for political or financial reasons, especially if a pack is wealthy.” He should tell her about Sienna, but the words got caught in his throat. He cleared it. “But for most werewolves, marriage is, like it is for humans, practiced in love.”

“Arranged marriages, huh? That sounds archaic.”

His mind conjured Sienna again. Reserved, dutiful Sienna. From what he’d surmised of her so far, Conall had liked her, had even been attracted to her. Now the thought of her left him cold. “Aye, they seem to work. Sometimes they fall apart, especially if one finds their true mate.”

“Arranged marriages sound like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“So are many human arranged marriages.”

“I don’t disagree.” He felt her eyes on his face. “So how does a wolf know when he’s met his true mate? Do sparks literally fly?” she teased.

He snorted. “Not that I’m aware of. My father told me it’s hard to explain. He said he just knew when he met my mum she was his mate. There was a certainty in his mind that no one on earth could persuade him otherwise. After two mates have sex for the first time, their scents become intertwined, and it signals to other wolves so they know not to trespass upon another wolf’s territory.” He flashed a grin at Thea’s indignation. “That goes both ways. It’s not just about a male marking his female. A female wolf is just as territorial of her mate. Sometimes more so.”

Conall remembered the way his parents had been around one another. So much passion and love, he’d often been embarrassed by it growing up. Now he’d give anything to see them laughing and cuddling like smitten teenagers.

When a comfortable silence fell between them again, Conall glanced over at Thea. Suddenly he saw an image of Thea in a faceless man’s arms, finding comfort after her escape from Ashforth, and the thought made Conall restless.

No, not restless.

It made him jealous as fuck.

There.

He’d admitted it to himself.

And now he needed to know. He shouldn’t ask. It wasn’t his business. “What about you?” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “You said you’ve never been in love but that doesnae mean you’ve never tried.”

Thea shrugged and glanced out her window. “I tried once. Not love, just … connection, I guess. It was about a year after I got away. The guy was human, and we bartended together.” She gave a snort of joyless laughter. “I was so worried about losing control, being too strong, hurting him that …”

Conall’s gut tightened. “What?”

“Nothing. It just wasn’t very good.”

Don’t ask, don’t fucking ask. “And you never tried again?” Prick. Moron. Masochist. Nosy fucking bastard.

To his surprise, Thea answered. “I’ve never trusted anyone enough to try again.”

Feeling her attention, he glanced at her and she was glaring at him, an attractive blush cresting high on her cheeks.

“Can we change the subject now?”

Conall grinned despite himself. “You asked first.”

“I didn’t ask you about sex.”

The word hung heavily in the air between them, and Conall found he couldn’t think of another subject to distract them with. Instead, they fell into a silence that wasn’t as comfortable as it had been before.* * *The hotel at Neumünster had taken inspiration from its Scandinavian neighbors. The reception was a huge, open-plan space with a quirky mix of industrial and natural materials. There were exposed pipes along the ceiling, but a beautiful fire on a partition wall. The fire was low to the ground, built between two pieces of marble, the top part of which had holes cut into it where the firewood was stored.

A massive corner sofa sat opposite the fire, with bean cushions and a large wooden coffee table. There was a reception desk near the fire, a bar, and a shop selling everything from wine to clothing.