“So the stress took its toll on their relationship.”

“Yes.” The house had been a place filled with tension, fights, silent arguments, things thrown, and angry sex that never resolved anything. Some of the arguments had been about Ryan: that she had no life because of him, that Galen gave him more attention than her when he was home. “All the fighting made Galen spend more time away from the house, which made Gwen worse. To be fair, she had no life.”

Pissed by that, Makenna snapped, “Yes, actually, she did. She had a son and a mate—things that some never have. She should have appreciated what she had instead of moaning about what she didn’t have. And your dad . . . he should have been there for you. Your parents let you down big time.”

“They’re not bad people. They just don’t make good parents. She told me many times that she wasn’t like that until I was born. From what others have said about her, it’s the truth.”

“Just because she wasn’t ready for a baby didn’t give her the right to make her child feel like he came second. You are not at fault for their fuckups.”

“I know that.”

Maybe, but Makenna would bet he’d blamed himself as a child. She’d bet it was why he was so serious and withdrawn. She suspected it was also why he bottled his emotions and didn’t share much of his thoughts or feelings. Having parents who were all about themselves would have made him feel like his own needs weren’t important, that he had no right to have his own feelings and, as such, giving away his pain was pointless.

Slipping an arm around his back, Makenna burrowed closer against him, wishing she could also hug the solemn little boy he’d once been whose parents had made him feel of little importance. It explained why he had this need inside him to be productive; he was proving to himself and others—maybe only on a subconscious level—that he was more than a burden who ruined someone’s life and his parents’ relationship. He deserved better.

She was comforting him, Ryan realized. He would have found it awkward to accept that kind of tactile contact from anyone else. But not her. Everything was different with Makenna. Ryan didn’t crave physical contact. He couldn’t remember there being a time when he ever had. But he needed to touch her, just as he needed to breathe her in and be around her.

If anyone had asked Ryan what he thought his mate might be like, he wouldn’t have even come close to a description of Makenna. He wouldn’t have thought he could relate to someone so empathetic and compassionate. Nor would he have thought he could genuinely enjoy the company of someone so zany and superstitious.

It wasn’t a case of opposites attracting, though. They were similar in some ways. They both had strong convictions, refused to be people pleasers, and found it hard to reveal their vulnerabilities to others. They fit.

But she didn’t see it.

She didn’t see what they were to each other, and it made him and his wolf crazy. Tangling his fingers in her hair, Ryan tugged her head back. “I’ll only give you so much time. It’s almost up.”

Makenna didn’t need to ask what he meant. “It’s not that simple.”

Sure it was. “Your secrets are out. All that’s left jamming the bond are your fears about mating. Say them out loud. I’ll make them all go away.”

His arrogant comment made her smile. “You can’t chase away someone’s fears.”

“Let’s test that.”

If she confessed them and then found that there was no bond waiting, something in Makenna would just . . . go. Die. Leave her with another hole and no Ryan in her life. It was her own fault, really. She should have protected herself by pushing him away. She hadn’t. He’d been right in what he once said: she didn’t let people step fully into her life. But she had let him in. She didn’t want him to go. “You never really answered my question. What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.”

“That’s not a real answer. What if you’re wrong?”

It wouldn’t change a damn thing. “I’m not going anywhere.” He curled a lock of hair around her ear. “Why do you find it so hard to believe we’re mates? The facts—”

“—speak for themselves, yeah. You obsess over facts. But what about how you feel?”

“You know what I feel.”

“Possessive, yes. But that doesn’t mean we’re mates. Protective, yes. But that trait is part of your personality. Attracted to me, yes. But that’s just sex. Those things aren’t feelings, Ryan. They’re instincts.” She placed her hand on his chest. “What do you feel?”

He was quiet for a moment, caught off guard by the deep question. “I don’t know.”

He sounded so confused and vulnerable. “What I’m asking is . . . Do I matter to you? Not because you think I’m your mate. I mean me, Makenna, do I matter?”

Ryan wished he could be better at articulating how he felt, but he suspected that would never happen. “You’re important to me.” He brushed his thumb over a bite on the curve of her breast. “I don’t like being away from you. And sometimes . . . you make me want to smile.”

God, the guy did things to her insides. Good things. Turned her to mush. She hugged him tight. “You know, that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Ryan smoothed a hand up and down her back. “Are you telling me I actually said something right?”