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We stared at each other. I couldn’t think of anything good to say, but I had to say something. “I’m sorry.” My voice came out soft, almost sad.

“Don’t apologize,” he said.

“Why not?”

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine.”

That made me widen my eyes at him. “How so?”

“I should have known you’d have that kind of bond with your mate. You’re more powerful as a human than most true lupas.”

I looked at him. “What are you saying, Richard? That you wish you’d made me one of you while you had the chance?”

He lowered his eyes as if he couldn’t bear for me to see his expression anymore. I stepped closer, close enough to touch him, close enough so that his vibrating energy spilled like a march of insects across my skin. It made me shiver. But I felt something else, something I’d never felt before, not with Richard.

My beast spilled over my skin and reached out like a playful kitten to swat at Richard’s power. The energies sparked against each other, and I could almost see the play of colors in my head, like flint and steel being struck against one another, except in technicolor.

I heard Richard catch his breath; his eyes were very wide. His voice came hoarse, almost strangled. “Did you do that on purpose?”

I shook my head. I didn’t trust myself to speak. The sparks had quieted, and it was as if I were leaning against a nearly solid wall of power, his and mine, as if I could have leaned against that energy and it alone would have kept us from touching. I finally found my voice, but it was a whisper. “What’s happening?”

“The marriage of the marks, I think,” he said, voice almost equally soft.

I wanted so badly to reach through that power and touch him, to see if the beasts would roll through each other like they did for Micah and me. I knew it was silly, he was wolf, and apparently I was leopard, so our beasts wouldn’t recognize each other. But I’d loved Richard for so long, and we were bound to each other by Jean-Claude’s marks, and I carried a piece of his beast inside me. I had to know. I had to know if I could have with Richard what I had with Micah.

My hand moved through the power, and it was like shoving it into an electric socket. The energy was so strong, it bit along my skin. I was reaching for his shoulder, a nice neutral place to touch someone, when he rolled off the side of the throne and was suddenly standing beside it. He’d moved so fast I couldn’t follow with my eyes. I’d seen the beginning of the movement and the end, but the middle—I’d blinked and missed it.

“No, Anita,” he said, “no, if we can’t ever touch again, I don’t want to feel your beast. We may not be the same animal, but it will be more than anything we’ve ever had between us. I couldn’t bear it.”

I let my hand fall to my side and stepped back far enough from the throne for him to regain his seat. I wasn’t apologizing again, but I wanted to. I wanted to cry for both of us, or scream. I know the universe has a sense of irony, and sometimes you get reminded just how sadistic that can be.

I would finally have to accept his furry half, because I’d have one of my own. I could be Richard’s nearly perfect lover, at long last, and we could never touch each other again.

24

RICHARD WAS SITTING on his throne again, and I was standing back far enough for him to feel safe. Rafael, Micah, and Reece had all moved up beside me, a half-circle of kings at my back. It should have made me feel secure. It didn’t. I was tired, so terribly tired, so terribly sad. Even with Micah at my back, I couldn’t stop looking at Richard, couldn’t stop wondering, what if. Oh, I knew, I’d never have allowed him to make me a werewolf on purpose, but a small part of me wondered. But I told that small part to shut up, and I got down to business.

“I want Gregory back unharmed. How do I do that, according to lukoi law?”

Richard said, “Jacob.” That one word sounded as tired as I felt.

Jacob stepped forward, obviously pleased with himself. “Your leopard is here on our land, and we’ve done nothing to hide his scent trail. If you