I ignored his question. “What about the nails?”
He shrugged. “Shades of grey. Mostly a dark grey.”
“Black?”
“Well, like I said, a dark grey is possible.”
“No. I mean black. A very glossy black you could see your reflection in.”
Sam remained introspectively quiet for a full minute. The intense silence claimed my attention. Looking around, I caught the eyes of a few others in the room before they quickly looked away.
“I don’t think I’ve ever paid that much attention to our claws before. But, no, I don’t believe so.”
I slumped back in my chair, thinking. Everyone in the room watched me, waiting for what I’d say next.
Could there really be another species of werewolf? The sparks I saw indicated the possibility. But if I followed that line of reasoning, did that then mean I was another species of human? Maybe these werewolves just had different abilities. I chewed on my lip for a minute. What about the nail color? Could that small difference carry enough significance to classify two separate species? I was grasping. I needed to grasp. If there were two kinds, it could explain why I had two potential Mates.
Frustrated and still tired from my stunt with Rachel, I scowled and got to the heart of my angst. Sure, I wanted to know what the color differences meant, but I needed to know why I felt what I did when I saw that man unconscious on the floor.
Sam cleared his throat, and I ignored him. Someone spoke softly further back in the room. Others moved restlessly.
So what if I felt the same pull for another guy? It just meant I had a choice. Wasn’t that what I’d wanted all along? Yet, now that I had options, I couldn’t see myself walking away from Clay...not for school, not for a career, and not for some creep who snuck into my house.
I peeked at Clay, unable to hide my turmoil. He reached out, offering his hand. His hair hid his eyes again, making it hard to read him. I looked down at his hand, calloused and so real.
Realization dawned. Clay and I held the answers. I kept my eyes trained on his hand to hide my thoughts. When I’d focused on Luke, I saw the yellow-violet spark. When I’d focused on Rachel, I’d expected to see Peter, but I hadn’t. Human vs. werewolf testing. If I was right about different species and tried the same test with Clay, I foresaw two possibilities. I would see myself as Clay’s Mate or I would see two potential Mates for myself, thus supporting my theory of another werewolf species.
Doubt crept in. What if I didn’t see myself? What if it didn’t work that way, and I saw the werewolf that Clay had knocked out?
I needed to know.
Lacing my fingers through his, I closed my eyes and focused. I held onto my need to find the perfect Mate for Clay and my hope I’d see myself.
The shock jumped from my hand to his, and my vision of the real world narrowed. I held my breath, terrified of the answer. My second sight exploded into existence. Not the great void filled with billions of sparks, but with the vibrant intensity and color of the sun. The white yellow core pulsed, its energy radiating outward, cooling to a molten orange. Hope flooded me as I realized my own spark filled my vision.
The vision closed, and my eyes once again focused on the real world. My hand still rested within Clay’s, but I caught the change in his expression. Clay glared at me. He knew what I’d done, but I couldn’t feel bad about it. Joy filled me. I’d been right. It didn’t answer my question about the variances in sparks, but I didn’t care. It had given me the answer I needed.
I smiled sweetly and leaned over to kiss him lightly on the lips. When our lips touched, something tangible changed. The joy I felt remained, but something else crept in. I pulled back, eyes wide. My heart hammered and my stomach clenched as I stared at him, unable to look away. Mesmerized.
In shock, I realized what I’d done. I’d transferred my pull to him. Only he wasn’t pulling in men. He pulled me in, and the force of it consumed me. He represented a hot fudge sundae to a diet-starved girl. Even knowing that what I felt was a result of my power, I couldn’t ignore it. He was so handsome, so perfect, and so clueless as he continued to scowl at me.
His fingers still twined through mine, but I needed more from him. I needed an affirmation of us as a pair. I wanted to touch his face and smell his skin. I wanted to hold him tight and never let go.
With speed I never imagined I possessed, I moved from my seat to his, straddled his lap, and leaned my forehead against his. He grunted in surprise, but otherwise didn’t move.
Breathing in deeply, I smelled the soap he’d used and closed my eyes. His hair tickled my nose. I pressed my lips to the tip of his nose. My heart twisted painfully. His hand came up, lightly resting on my side. It heated my ribs. The contact of each finger branded me. Better, but not enough. My mind kept chanting “more.” I opened my eyes and smiled.
Forgetting our audience, I ran my hands through his hair and pulled back to kiss his exposed forehead. His cautious brown eyes met mine. I lost myself in their depths for several moments as I recalled the first time I saw them. On his driver’s license. I needed more from him. No more hiding from each other.
I tilted my head and kissed his cheek. The whiskers abraded my lips, but I didn’t mind. I moved lower, finding his lips. He didn’t resist me, but didn’t join in as he had in the car. I frowned slightly. A stab of doubt pierced my heart. This didn’t feel right, yet. He still hid from me.
Nudging his jaw with my nose, I made room to nuzzle his neck. My lips skimmed his smooth skin. His pulse jumped under my mouth. Finally, he reacted. Both his hands came up, holding my sides, kneading me, encouraging. My breath quickened, and my heart hammered. Yes! This was right.
Something took possession of me. With one hand, I gripped his hair and tugged it. He tilted his head to the side and exposed his neck, giving in willingly. My eyes traced his neck where his pulse skipped erratically. The beat matched my own. I couldn’t look away from that clean-shaven spot. I recalled when he had started shaving it. He’d known I would need to see it. For this. I kissed it lightly and felt him shudder. Before the shudder ended, I bit him hard on the same spot. Hard enough to draw blood.
The taste of his blood on my tongue broke the hold he had on me and created a new one somewhere deep inside. I pulled back slightly to look at the small marks I’d left. They had already begun to heal.
The pull he had on me and the euphoria of the moment faded as the horror of what I’d just done washed over me.
Clay stared at me in stunned silence...versus his everyday silence. Behind me, someone moved and called attention to the fact that we still had an audience. A Claiming typically occurred in private.
A deep blush seized my cheeks, and embarrassed tears began to gather. I wiped the blood from my mouth with a shaky hand. I didn’t regret Claiming him, but wished we could have talked first. I needed reassurance. Would this mean I’d have to quit school? Would he want me to live in the woods with him? If he did, I owed it to him to try after everything he’d done for me.
Then, a really ugly question floated to the surface. Had I just forced him?
Panic bloomed in my chest. Before I could scramble off his lap, he reached up and gently stroked my hair. I froze, hands braced on his chest for stability, ready to flee.
“I’ve been waiting for that since the moment I saw you,” he said in a deep and husky voice. He sounded like a midnight radio DJ.
Hearing his perfect voice ignited my temper. Now, he could talk? I scowled at him. The man had the audacity to laugh then scoop me up in his arms.
The room around us erupted in cheers, and I hid my blazing face in his chest, my thoughts a confused jumble. I felt him walk, but didn’t have the courage to look up to meet the faces of the people who’d witnessed our Claiming. The sounds of cheering faded as he moved out of the commons. My tears of embarrassment dried before they spilled over.