She said nothing. Her skin was slightly tinged with pink,
“If I’m a wolf,” he persisted, “it’s natural for me to show… affection. But yesterday you told me that people, unlike wolves, are not allowed to show what they feel. Is this the dishonesty you don’t like in humans?”
She kept her face averted, but he saw the tension in her jaw. “People pretend to feel what they don’t feel,” she whispered. “They deceive—”
“I wasn’t deceiving you, Alexandra.”
She looked at him. “The human world sets up limits,” she said in a tone devoid of inflection. “In human society, there are certain ways to show emotion, certain rules. Some emotions have to be controlled.”
“As you control yours?”
Anger flashed in her eyes, quickly suppressed. “There are laws of survival—” She broke off. “There are customs we follow. They hold civilization together, for all its flaws.”
“And people always follow these… laws.”
She seemed to pull into herself, into a place he couldn’t follow. “No,” she whispered. “Not always. But when they don’t, everything falls apart.”
Pain. He sensed her pain though he didn’t know its source, felt it as he felt his own. He wanted only to hold her then, with no more thought than to ease her sadness.
But she came back to herself, looking at him as if she had never been gone. “People need to follow certain standards of behavior, even when they care about each other.”
Kieran rose. “You care about me, Alexandra,” he said.
“Of course I care about you.” She smiled stiffly. “We were friends. We still are. But there are levels of caring. Friends, even good friends, don’t kiss each other.” Her gaze slid away from his. “Not that way.”
“What way?”
“When two people kiss… that way, it usually means they are committed to each other.” She hesitated, her profile as uncertain and fragile as ice in spring. “It means they feel more than just friendship.”
“More than friendship,” Kieran echoed.
“They feel what we call love.”
“I know what love is.”
She turned to look at him, lips parted. “Do you remember, Kieran?”
No. Nothing so concrete as memory. Only sensation, and the ghost of happiness from a time long gone. Enough.
“Do wolves feel love, Alexandra?” he countered.
She blinked. “We don’t know. We know they can be extremely devoted to their mates and pack members.”
“Wolves mate for life,” he said. “Do humans?”
Her gaze dropped. “No. Not always.”
“And you?” He moved closer to her, step by cautious step. “Have you ever taken a mate?”
She hesitated a moment too long. “People don’t have to mate to be whole. Many of us are… happy being alone.”
He knew what cynicism was, but still it came to him as a stranger. “I don’t enjoy being alone.”
“Of course you don’t. Wolves are social anima—”
“I am not a wolf.”
“Why do you fight it so much, Kieran?” she asked earnestly. “Why do you deny that part of yourself?”
The Voice was there without warning, mocking Alexandra’s questions. Fight it, boy. Deny it. You must be human.…
Alexandra moved toward him, her hand extended in appeal. “Listen to me, Kieran. I know someone told you once that there was something wrong with you. It’s not true.”
Monster, the Voice reminded him. “Isn’t it?” Kieran asked hoarsely.
“No. Dammit, no. You have to accept everything you are, both parts of yourself, or we won’t get anywhere. You know that you haven’t been able to throw off your wolf instincts, no matter how much you fight them. They’re too much a part of you.”
“The cafe…”
“We shouldn’t have gone into town when we did, Kieran,” she said. “But that’s exactly my point. You couldn’t control your shifting. Or your emotions.”
“Control,” he echoed.
“That’s what you have to learn. Don’t you see?” Her face became animated, alight, everything it hadn’t been after he kissed her. “Your memory improved each time you shifted. Maybe the key to regaining your memory is controlling your shifting. And maybe the key to your shifting is to accept everything you are.”
He laughed, though the sound emerged as a growl. “As you accept me?”
“Yes.”