The Burning Claw Page 43
“I’m sure Drake is confused about how far to take things because, as we’ve already talked about, he knows that you aren’t knowledgeable about a lot of things, including our species, and he doesn’t want to take advantage of you,” Jacque explained. “And they all think we females are fragile. It’s our job to remind them that we are anything but.”
“How do you do that?” Bethany asked.
“You hit them,” Jen answered.
“And throw things at them,” Jacque continued.
“And make them build dog house for dogs that don’t exist,” Jen added.
“Also,” Jacque interjected, “you can go to a bar without their knowledge.”
“Or do a striptease in a room full of people,” Jen laughed. “Yep, that one will hit them where it hurts every time.”
“Every time?” Bethany’s eyes widened. “You mean it’s happened more than once?”
“Clothes are annoying. My philosophy is the less you’re wearing, the shorter the show, which has the added benefit of giving you a head start on the pursuing fur ball—because they will be pursuing, believe me.”
Bethany was speechless.
“Oh!” Jacque said, snapping her fingers. “There’s also the your touch is uninvited card.” She smiled at Bethany, whose eyes widened.
“Burn,” Jen said. “They hate that one. I think they’d rather you kick them in the balls than tell them they aren’t allowed to touch you.”
“How do those things make them see you as not fragile?”
“Listen up, sweet cheeks,” Jen said as she stood and walked to one of the shelves in the library and grabbed a book. She set it on one of the tables and flipped it open, continuing to flip pages until she came to what she was looking for. “Ah, here it is. Fragile, of an object, easily broken or damaged, flimsy or insubstantial.” She snorted a laugh. “Yeah right. Where was I? Oh, yeah, easily destroyed. Fragile, of a person, not strong or sturdy; delicate and vulnerable. Synonyms include tenuous, shaky, insecure, un-reliable, flimsy, weak, delicate, and frail. There’s more but I think we get the picture.” She slammed the book closed and sauntered back over to her seat.
“As you can see, it takes a woman with large jewels to stand up to a werewolf. We do not have the luxury of being flimsy, or easily destroyed. So when they begin to think we are, we remind them that we are not passive, vulnerable bitches. We are she-wolves, and we will bite if we have to. Whether it’s a real bite, which hey back to that whole foreplay thing, or it’s only a figurative bite, they will feel our strength, our durability, and our robustness. Love that word by the way—robustness. Makes me want to strut around while nodding and saying ‘Yeah, I’m robust. What’s it to ya, punk?’ ”
“Oh holy troll tongues, please do,” Jacque begged as she laughed.
Bethany covered her mouth as she tried to keep from rolling.
“You totally got those from the antonym section, didn’t you?” Jacque asked through her fit of laughter.
“Totally,” Jen agreed still feeling robust.
Once they’d pulled themselves back together, Bethany leaned forward. “What else?”
“My, my you’ve become an eager little beaver. Oh man, that’s frickin—” Jen started to say but Jacque slapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head.
When she removed the hand, Jen’s lips puckered. “Too soon?”
Jacque nodded. “Way too soon. Teach her the slang after she’s mated.”
“You’re no fun,” Jen whined.
“Yeah and you’re a flipping Ferris wheel of laughs.”
Bethany let out a growl, much to everyone’s surprise. “How can I become knowledgeable if you two keep arguing?”
Jen leaned back on the couch. She couldn’t help the sly smile. Bethany was like a shiny wrapped Christmas present with Jen’s name on the tag. “You really are too good to be true,” she purred. “Eager and you have a backbone? Now I finally get to impart my knowledge to someone who will appreciate it.”
“Jen, NO.” Jacque placed a hand on her arm as if to hold her back.
“Oh no, wolf-princess, you aren’t taking this from me. She needs my help,” Jen pointed to Bethany. “She is frustrated and she doesn’t even understand why. That’s just cruel. I won’t leave her ignorant. She has wants and needs that only her mate can fulfill, and her mate is being a coward.”
Jacque covered her face with a hand and groaned. “I don’t know if he’ll thank you or curse you.”
“Oh, he’ll definitely thank me, eventually.” She winked at Jacque and then turned back to Bethany. “If you can feel him, tell your mate to get out of your head and give you some privacy,” Jen said as she stood and walked over to a wall of bookshelves.
“Oh, he’s not there. I think he’s pretty ticked off actually.” She paused before adding, “I sort of told him that he wasn’t allowed to touch me and that maybe another male should be the one to, you know, well, yeah…” Bethany said, her hands fidgeting restlessly in her lap. “He got pretty upset at that point and broke a lamp. So, sorry about that,” she told Jen, who had a huge smile pasted on her face.
“Wait, put on the brakes and back the truck up. You told him that he wasn’t allowed to touch you? You used one of our foolproof, kick ya where it hurts and laugh, I am woman hear me roar, and I’m not fragile, dammit, cards?”
Bethany nodded, looking very unsure. “I think so. I said he’d lost the privilege.”
“Oh this is rich,” Jen laughed as she threw her head back. “I’m sure he was beyond ticked. He flipped his lid no doubt. Wait.” She sat up. “Did you say he broke a lamp?”
“I don’t get what the big deal is. He said something about me not understanding about your magic,” Bethany admitted.
“Pack magic is powerful. Words can be very powerful if fueled by the right emotion. He’s your mate and he’s bitten you. That bite created an even stronger bond than just the mental one that you two share. You are part Canis lupus. All of those things factor into your ability to wield pack magic. If you truly meant that you didn’t want his touch, that it is unwelcome, and you spoke those words to him, then he will not be able to touch you. Literally, he cannot touch you. We’ve, uh, had experience with that particular magic, isn’t that right, Red?”