I watch as Rowan goes, my fist gripping the bedspread, my teeth clenched so I won't call after her. While I don't know what I said to offend her, I still don't like that I have.

I wanted to say yes to what she asked. I really did. But if I give in and spend even one night with her like that, it's going to be so much harder to let go of her. It's best if I don't indulge. Just laying in the bed beside her is crossing a line, technically.

But she's my mate, and she said she was cold. I can't resist taking care of her, and that meant keeping her warm.

But she doesn't need to have sex with me.

And she shouldn't. Even though she doesn't know we're mates, and I plan to keep it that way, she's sweet and kind. If we have sex, it will mean something to her. If she gets attached, she won't want to leave, and then I'll have the exact problem I'm trying to avoid on my hands anyway.

I will always be in danger. More danger than just being a secret werewolf or mage. More danger than just waiting until a spell on a book is broken. I'm marked forever, and if she's with me, she will be too.

Still, I can't let her spend the entire night downstairs in her shift. She won't get any rest that way. So I get up, pull my breeches and tunic back on, and head downstairs to find her.

Since it's late, the inn is mostly empty. There's a tavern down the street where I imagine most of the townsfolk spend their evenings. Rowan is sitting by the fire, her cloak tight around her. She's shivering slightly, and I can see tear tracks on her cheeks.

It feels like someone is squeezing my heart in my chest. I made my mate cry. I never meant to make her cry.

I pull a chair up beside her so I won't block the heat from the fire, but she doesn't look in my direction. After a moment of silence, I request, "Please come back upstairs, Rowan."

"I'll be fine right here," she replies shortly, her teeth chattering immediately after.

I open my mouth to tell her she won't be, but she glares at me sternly and I decide against it.

She looks away again and I sigh. "What did I say, Rowan?" I wonder. "All I did was tell you the truth."

"The truth based on what you assumed I was thinking," she retorts angrily.

I swallow and lick my lips nervously. "What do you mean?"

"I wasn't asking for romance, Graham," she clarifies. "I wasn't asking for a happy ending. I know your life is hard. Mine is too. I may still be young, although I'd be a pariah on the marriage market by now if I was still a noblewoman, but I'm not some silly maiden begging to be deflowered, as you put it."

My brow furrows, but she continues before I can get any words out.

"As if you have any right to suggest that I should save myself for someone, by the way," she snorts. "That's what you meant, wasn't it? That since it wouldn't be special with you, I shouldn't even consider it. It's such an antiquated notion of purity." She drops her voice and pins me with her gaze. "Unless it's a myth, werewolves have mates, don't they?"

My heart leaps into my throat as I try to figure out how I slipped, how she figured it out. All I manage to say is a strangled, "Yes, they do."

"Well, since you didn't mention one as your excuse to say no to me, I'm assuming you haven't found yours yet. And I might be backing myself into a corner, depending on your answer, but have you waited for them?"

"No," I admit sheepishly, lowering my head.

She doesn't know. I should be glad about that, but there is a part of me that is very disappointed.

"So there's no reason for me to, especially since I don't have a mate."

I feel a pang in my chest when she says that. I can hardly hold her accountable for it, since she doesn't know, but it still hurts.

She grows somber again. "My life ended the day I discovered my secret, Graham," she whispers. "All hope of the life I dreamed of was shattered in one moment. I have been afraid every single second since that moment. I've learned to hide it, but the fear is always there."

Tears gather in my eyes as they start to fall down her cheeks again.

"I can't go home," she reminds me. "I don't know where my brother is, or if he hates me, and even if I did find him, staying with him would put him in danger because of the book. My natural talents are frightening and difficult to control. I spent a decade with a man who tried to abuse me every single night because I didn't know where else to go. For the longest time, I thought that any kind of intimacy was completely lost to me. Lying beside you up in that room, I realized that it wasn't. That, for once, I could choose when something in my life happened, rather than waiting to have it taken from me. I just thought I could feel... wanted, instead of like a burden, which is what I've always been."

I nod curtly, not trusting myself to speak now. If I do, I'll tell her everything, and she'll be trapped.

Because I want her. I want her more than anything I've ever wanted in my life. I want her with my whole soul, and every fiber of it is screaming at me to take her in my arms and never let her go.

But that's instinct, and instinct doesn't understand reality. I have to be stronger than my own desires. I have to save her from me, since no one else is going to do it.

"I'm not asking you to settle down in a cottage in the woods, Graham. I just want you to bed me. I'm not looking to fall in love. I have my own problems, my own quest. And I felt like you... saw me. Understood me in a way most people don't and never will. Until you talked to me like that."

I take a shaky breath, trying to decide exactly how to phrase my apology before I begin, but she keeps going yet again.

"The only time I've ever felt safe since that moment has been my time with you," she confesses softly. "And I just thought that one night in a warm bed with a man I picked would be one of the best nights I've ever had. That's all."

Her guard is down, and her face falls before she hurriedly adds, "But if it's that you don't want me, that you're not interested, that's fine. I would never force you to do something you didn't want to do."

My hands tighten where they're resting on my thighs. The idea that I wouldn't want her, that anyone wouldn't want her, is completely ludicrous.

I indulge myself and look at her. Really look at her.

Some might consider her plain. But I've traveled from one end of this land to the other more than once, and I have never seen a woman more beautiful than her.

Her long, dark brown hair is thick and shiny, and it tumbles over her shoulders in lovely waves. Her pale skin glows in the dim firelight. Her nose has a fetching swoop at the end of it, and her body is lush and curvy. Her eyes are big and dark hazel, her mouth full and pink.

Full and pink and begging to be kissed.

I get up and then kneel in front of her, reaching up to touch her cheek. "I'm sorry, Rowan," I tell her sincerely. "I jumped to a conclusion, and I shouldn't have. And you're right. I shouldn't dictate the choices you make or why you make them."

"Thank you," she murmurs.

"You're welcome." I smooth a strand of hair over her ear and smile at her. "Will you come back upstairs now, please?"

She glances up at me through her long lashes, suddenly shy. "What are we going to do if I go back upstairs?"

"Well, Rowan, if you still want me to, I'm going to deflower you," I tease, grinning.

She beams at me and giggles, and I am warmed from head to toe by her smile. I'm getting myself into trouble and I know it, but I owe her this after the way I acted.

That's what I'm going to tell myself, at least.

"All right, but only if you stop using the word deflower," she bargains.

I laugh loudly. "Deal," I promise.

"Let's go," she urges me. "It's freezing down here."

I hold out my hand to her and help her stand, then scoop her up into my arms and cradle her against my chest. She gasps and puts her arms around my neck and I begin to carry her back to our room.