Page 51 of Bound

He toyed with the edge of his phone. “What happened last year—you accidentally bonding Topher to you—from everything I’ve read, it’s because Omega wolves experience the need for connection more intensely than other shifters. Your wolves really aren’t cut out to be alone, not long term.”

“I’m not following.”

“You’ve been trying to bottle up your power for years. That won’t work. The only way to manage it is the same way you keep your wolf from going mad at the full moon. Take the edge off a little at a time.”

“Purposefully glamour people, you mean.” The sick feeling twisted in my stomach.

“Don’t think of it that way. Wolves are pack animals. We need connection. We don’t do well in isolation. But having large numbers of shifters together in close quarters presents a logistical nightmare. Too much testosterone. Constant fights and challenges.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Omegas crave connection, are highly sensitive to emotional bonds, to interpersonal relationships. Think of what you do as an anti-anxiety drug for the pack. When you find that balance, it’s not about conscious control.”

“There has to be another way. I won’t use my power on the pack, even in moderation. It makes me sick every time I glamour someone, but sometimes I’ve been the only way in and Topher has needed access to a site. It’s a risk every time. If I slipped again—”

“There’s another option, but it’s one you’re not going to like.” He hesitated. “You need to get mated.”

This time I really did spit tea all over the porch.

“Wait… what?”

“You heard me.”

I shot up. “No. Absolutely not. You can’t be serious.”

He smirked. “You’re that bad in bed?”

I shut my eyes. The idea swirled wildly in my head, the stab of anxiety I’d instantly felt at the suggestion, at what it would mean after everything I’d done tempered by a breathless sort of hope. And yet, I couldn’t. Not when doing so would be for all the wrong reasons, and not when everything between me and Topher had been founded on my curse from the very start. If we ever took that step, it wouldn’t be because once again, I’d forced him into it. It would make me the worst kind of monster.

“I won’t use Topher that way. I would never sentence him to a relationship that we both can’t freely choose. This isn’t his curse to deal with.”

“Why couldn’t it be his choice?”

“Because I bound him to me. We’ll never be able to go back in time and have a meet cute in a bookstore or in a coffee shop on a Saturday afternoon. Deep down, we’ll never know if any of this is real.”

Dallas came back out onto the patio, platter in hand. “Love is messy.” He pointed the tongs at me and started filling the platter with flame-grilled burgers and dogs. “It doesn’t follow the rules. Ethan and I both fell in love with humans. If you and Topher ultimately decide you want to be together, bound by shifter magic so primal and rare that only the two of you can ever really understand it, then I don’t think it would be anyone’s business but yours.”

My pulse picked up. But just as quickly, any fleeting sense of hope vanished. This was wrong. Excuses and justifications aside, I couldn’t get mated to someone who couldn’t freely choose to enter into that bond. And Topher would never be free. Not where I was concerned.

Dallas’s expression softened. “Would it really be so bad? You think we can’t all see the way you feel about him? And how he feels about you?”

“I forced this on him. Deep down, some part of me would always know that, would always wonderif he was only there because I’d willed him to be.”

Dallas frowned, starting to say something, but I turned to River.

“You could fix this.”

River’s expression darkened. “I can’t rewrite Topher. You know how it works. His neural pathways were already manipulated. Going in there a second time could cause permanent damage.”

“Not him. Me.” As I said it, the idea began to take form. Not erasing everything, not us, but rewriting just the part where I’d forcibly bonded him to me. Allowing us to start fresh, to finally see if what we had could be real—

“You don’t even know that it would work that way,” River warned. “I don’t know that it would work that way.”

“You don’t know that it wouldn’t.”

Out in the yard, Major had dropped the tennis ball and started to whine. Brody called him over, glaring our way.

River said in a low voice, “I see the consequences of mistakes from bad rewrites every day. Trust me. What I do isn’t something you want to go screwing around with. It’s last resort only.”

“Yeah. Except when it isn’t.”

Over by the grill, Dallas froze. In Brody’s arms, Major began to shake. River didn’t move a muscle, and I knew we were all picturing it, that day he’d been ordered by our uncle to wipe Ellie Crowe’s memories for nothing but the crime of being human. For being Hayden’s sister. For knowing too much. And he’d done it.