Clay, time's up.

Sam's unexpected words sent a bolt of panic through me as I stared down at Gabby. She slept peacefully beside me, still recovering from whatever affected her last night.

Several males have approached Elder Joshua and requested permission to Introduce themselves to Gabby. Permission's been granted. Sorry, son.

Had it been that long? I thought back to the Introduction in spring and wanted to growl. It had. I'd been so focused on the progress Gabby and I were making, I hadn't noticed the passing time.

There wasn't much I could do about unMated males asking to meet her. I'd been given six months to win her over; and in their eyes, I'd failed. I knew better, though. Gabby was human. She was taking her sweet time to realize that she didn't just care about me but loved me.

Elder supervised only, I sent back.

I wasn't giving up, just ensuring her safety.

Though werewolf laws forbade us from Claiming a human—only the human could initiate the Claim—I'd already dealt with one unMated who'd challenged me when Gabby was around. She could have been hurt. If they wanted to start Introductions again, she needed to be in a controlled environment. Plus, the Elders would be there to note her disinterest in others and preference to me.

I reached out and gently touched Gabby's cheek. She was so fragile.

I'll see what I can do.

I growled. Not good enough.

Let them all know I'm challenging for the right to keep her.

Gabby shifted in her sleep. I calmed, wrapped my arms around her, and waited for her to wake up. When she did, she seemed better but still not herself. She stayed in her room, studying or napping. As the day wore on, no one bothered us, and I hoped that meant the Elders had agreed to chaperoned Introductions.

While she read, I tried to think of ways to broach the subject of Claiming. Deep down, I knew she wasn't ready yet. She'd let me sleep next to her only because she was sick. I had no doubt, when she felt better, I'd be back to the end of the bed.

Yet, I also knew I was making progress. She talked to me when she wanted to share news that excited her. She chose to have dinner with me instead of going out with Rachel. Whether she realized it or not, we were slowly working up to making things official. Just not fast enough.

* * * *

When Gabby woke Monday morning and started to dress for school, I tried to stop her. She was still weak. However, since Rachel had returned home late Sunday, I'd reverted to my fur. So my efforts were limited to what a dog would do and were easy for Gabby to ignore.

On her way out the door, she patted me on my head and softly said, "Don't worry so much."

How could I not? The rules had changed, and she still didn't know. Frustrated, I sat beside the door and listened to her car pull away. She had no idea just how much I did worry. Not only would she need to contend with human men but, possibly, werewolves, too.

Thankfully, Rachel left soon after. I let myself out and ran my route to campus, scenting as I went.

Though there were no signs of werewolves in the area, it didn't mean it would stay that way. I knew, as wolves, they wouldn't get too close, thanks to the security guards. But, what about as men?

I watched the students walking around campus for several minutes then turned away. Gabby was right. I was worrying too much. The men who wanted to meet her didn't want to hurt her. They wanted to talk to her, convince her that they were a better match for her. It was the Mating challenges that were the danger to her. As long as the challengers approached me when she wasn't near, she would be fine.

Back at the house, I dressed for work as usual and set out on the long walk. I expected someone to approach me then, but I arrived at the shop without incident.

Dale had the orders laid out on his desk so I could choose what to work on. He no longer regulated me to general maintenance orders. Anything he had on his desk was up for grabs. I'd noticed he usually left the heavy jobs on the top. I didn't mind. He paid me more when I did those.

I took the top order, found the keys for the car on the rack, then went to the lot to pull it into the right bay. Outside, a hint of something in the air made me pause. I inhaled deeply. Werewolf. It was faint which meant the challenger was watching me from a distance, sizing me up.

The tension I'd held since Sam contacted me, eased. It was a bit of a relief to know someone was out there. If he was watching me, he wasn't watching Gabby. It also meant that Sam had spread the news that I wasn't giving up my Claim. Anyone wanting to meet Gabby would challenge me first. It wasn't required, but we had our pride. Though Gabby had technically rejected me by not completing the Claim within the six months, she was still allowing me to live in her house. Any man hoping to approach her wouldn't tolerate that remaining sign of her acceptance for me. Thus, the challenges. They wanted to prove to her that they were better in every way that mattered to a wolf.

I drove the car into the right bay and set to work as I normally would. No one approached the shop and the scent never grew stronger throughout the day. But I hadn't expected it would. Challenges weren't something we did out in the open. There was too much risk that humans would see what they shouldn't. When werewolves fought, we didn't always shift completely. Instead, we used the best of both our forms.

Near four, I cleaned up and went to the current order to make notes. It was early enough that I could settle up with Dale, face whoever challenged me, and still arrive home before Gabby so I could start dinner.

Dale stopped his work and came over when he saw me.

"Thanks for another day," he said, handing me money as he read my notes. "You see everything," he said, pointing to my comment about a few pinholes in the exhaust.

I shrugged. Some of the stuff was hard to miss when I had the car jacked in the air.

"See you tomorrow?"

With a nod, I tucked the cash in my wallet and left for the day. I didn't get very far.

The challenger's scent grew heavy near a vacant building at the edge of the business district. After a quick glance around, I veered off the sidewalk to track the scent around the building.

The cement block structure had a flat roof, and all of its windows were painted black from the inside. The faint scent of oil and exhaust still clung to it. Some kind of manufacturing plant, perhaps. Most likely insulated to help prevent sound from carrying to the homes not far away. Whomever I faced was smart to pick this location. No witnesses.

Around the back, I found the rear metal door ripped open and hanging at an angle. A blatant invitation. I stepped into the shadowed interior and pulled the door shut behind me. The large empty space made it easy to see my challenger. He waited in his fur in the center of the room.

I unzipped my coveralls and pulled off my shirt. He remained where he was as I stripped and shifted.

Moving toward him, I already knew the outcome of the fight. I saw in his eyes that he did, too. One on one, very few of my kind would be able to overcome me.

* * * *

When I walked out of the building, the sky was already dark. The challenge took longer than I'd anticipated, and I knew the only dinner I'd have ready in time was canned soup. It was something I'd picked up last week.

I jogged home, trying to keep a human pace; and before going inside, I hid my coveralls in the garage. Though Gabby knew about them, I wasn't sure Rachel was ready for more man clothes around the house.

Glancing at the clock, I wondered how Gabby's day had gone. No doubt I'd find out in a few minutes. It took me seconds to open the soup and dump it into a pot. As it heated on the stove, I quickly washed up. Though I'd won, the challenger had scored a few solid blows but nothing that wouldn't be healed by morning.

Gabby pulled into the driveway just as I poured the soup into bowls. Her slow steps thumped on the porch while I carried the bowls to the table. I glanced up as she opened the door. Looking exhausted, she dropped her bag on the floor, closed the door, and then shuffled to the table. With a weary sigh, she practically collapsed into the chair.

I sat across from her, watching as she took her first few bites of soup before I started eating too. We ate in silence for a few minutes.

"Are you going to tell me about the coveralls or where you got the money for groceries?"

Though she'd asked, she didn't look up to any serious conversation. She looked like she needed sleep. So I shrugged.

She sighed and pushed her bowl back. "I know I'm supposed to start asking you a bunch of questions, but I'm still too tired. Just don't be doing anything illegal, 'K? It would be hard to visit you in jail."

She got up and put the rest of her soup in a container. Despite my silent objections, she washed her own dishes then left me in the kitchen with my half bowl of soup. I quickly ate, cleaned up, and went to her bedroom. She was already curled under the covers and asleep.

The sound of Rachel's engine stopped me from lying next to her. I stripped, put my clothes away, and settled on the end of the bed, careful of my bruised ribs.

* * * *

Tuesday was a repeat of Monday. Gabby went to school, and I went to work. The scent of werewolf drifted to me throughout the day, and I left early again. Like the day before, the scent grew stronger as I neared the vacant building. Only this time, it wasn't a single scent, but three. I knew I wouldn't make it home before Gabby.

Walking around the building, I retraced my steps. As I'd anticipated, the shallow bruises from the day before had already healed. I doubted I'd heal as quickly from three fights in a row. The bruising would go much deeper.

I stepped inside and found the three challengers. Though I could see they planned to fight as men, I stripped down to nothing anyway.

"Just give up now," one of the men said. "Sure you might win the first fight or two, but do you really think you can win three in a row?"

I waved the first one forward in answer.

The guy shook his head. "Whether you win this fight or not, Gabby's no longer yours. You had your chance. Elder Joshua has granted any interested male permission to approach her without supervision."

Shit.

I struggled to control my temper. I'd asked for controlled Introductions. Sam had said he would see what he could do. When I hadn't heard more, I'd thought...what had I thought? No answer didn't mean a yes.

With a growl, I launched myself at the first challenger. I needed to get home.

* * * *

It was past midnight when I left the building. I stopped at a gas station to clean up. I had a split lip and blood on my knuckles and in my beard. Most of the blood in my beard wasn't my own.

Letting myself in the back door, I listened for Gabby's soft breathing. She was safely asleep in bed. No other sounds drifted through the house, which meant Rachel wasn't home yet. Some of the remaining tension melted from my chest.

As I stripped and then changed into a clean shirt and shorts, I considered the challenges. I'd taken my time and paced myself, careful not to expend all my energy up front. But in the end, the third challenger had almost beaten me. What would Gabby have done if she'd woken, and I still hadn't returned? Her comment from Monday's dinner led me to believe she would have tried to find me, that we weren't done. Yet, what were we? Friends? I needed her to start seeing us as more than that.

I carefully lay next to her, wincing at the soreness along my back. She seemed to sense me in her sleep because she shifted closer. I put my hands behind my head and let her use me as a pillow. With her cheek on my chest, I wished I'd left off the shirt.

Once she settled, I sighed deeply and fell asleep.

* * * *

She moved, a slight nod that rubbed her cheek against my chest. It was a pleasant way to wake up. She lifted her head, and I opened my eyes.

"It's annoying not being able to see you," she said softly as she propped herself up on her elbows to study me.

"If you don't talk, and I can't see your face, how am I ever supposed to figure out what you're thinking?"

She reached out to push my hair back, but I caught her wrist. She wouldn't like what she saw. I doubted the bruises had faded from last night.

"Seriously, Clay, what kind of bribe is it going to take for you to get rid of some of that hair?"

I bared my teeth, hoping my excuse would work this time, too.

"Can't we at least trim it back some?"

Her desire to look at me had me tugging her hand to my chest and laying it flat. I wanted her to see me, not just the outside but inside, too. My heart was hers. All that I was belonged to her.

She watched me with a slightly amused expression. Her tousled hair haloed her head in appealing disarray. Her lips parted, and my gaze drifted there. I could handle a thousand more challenges if only for one kiss.

Barely breathing, I lifted my free hand and tapped my mouth.

"What, you want me to be mute like you?"

She was killing me. I shook my head and reached out, cupping her jaw and lightly running my thumb over her bottom lip. My pulse thundered in my ears.

She froze, then her eyes widened. All trace of amusement fled her expression.

"Whoa!" she said as she flew from the bed, almost falling off it in her haste to put distance between us.

My hand slowly fell to the mattress. She didn't stop backing up until she hit the dresser, and then she clutched it as if she needed the support.

I saw her tremble and frowned. Had I misread our relationship? Did she truly not see me as a potential Mate? I waited. We watched each other. After a minute, she loosened her hold and nervously wiped her hand on her leg. I wished I knew what she was thinking.

As she continued to study me, her expression of fear melted away to one of slow amazement followed by a deep blush, which I found curious. Her amazement vanished and a sudden panicked look took its place. She was shifting through emotions too fast for me to understand. I'd thought the amazement and blush a good thing, but why had it caused her to panic?

Then her gaze drifted to my throat. I wanted to groan and close my eyes. Her reactions were confusing torment. Want me or don't, just decide soon.

She took several slow, deep breaths, wiped her hands on her pajamas again, then, finally she moved. She didn't flee the room, as I'd half-expected, but edged toward the bed. Her teeth caught her lower lip, making it hard for me to breathe.

"I have some questions before we talk about my bribe and your price."

What bribe? What price? I thought back to our conversation—her conversation—and realized she thought I wanted a kiss in exchange for trimming my hair.

She crawled back upon the bed and sat on her heels beside me. "Will you try to answer my questions?"

I waited, unsure of her questions.

"Are you able to physically speak?"

I nodded.

"Are you ever planning on talking to me?"

That question hinted at a long-term future. I smiled wide and nodded again.

"Clay," she said hesitantly, "were you asking for a kiss?"

I'd never wanted anything more. I nodded and reached out to twine my fingers with hers. She let me, and I ran my thumb over the skin of her hand.

"Clay, I can't even see your mouth to know where to kiss. I hope this bargain includes a shave."

My heart stopped. Was that a yes? I didn't move, afraid I was dreaming it.

She pulled her hand from mine so she could set both hands on my shoulders. I felt the slight tremble in her fingertips as she slowly leaned over me. Her nervousness almost blocked the scent of her anticipation. She closed her eyes a moment before her lips settled on me. She hovered there, lightly pressing her mouth against mine. I held still, wanting so much more and afraid to do something to scare her away.

She moved slighting, angling the chaste kiss as she reached up to gently brush her fingers along my face, exploring my forehead, ear, and jaw. I couldn't hold back. I tilted my head and started to nibble at her lips.

Her desire changed to panic, and I cursed myself as she pulled away and opened her eyes. Her shock and gasp made my heart sink.

Was she so afraid of a kiss?

"What happened?"

Her concern confused me.

"I thought werewolves weren't supposed to get hurt like this."

Crap. She'd moved my hair and was staring at my blackened face. Wait. Did that mean she hadn't minded the kiss, then? Before the thought could firmly settle in my mind, she bounded off the bed again.

"A deal's a deal. Go shower and shave. After you're done, we can play charades until I have the story behind the black eye."

Screw the black eye, I wanted her back on the bed.

"That or I call Sam."

I ran my hand through my hair in frustration, then sighed and sat up. The mood was obviously broken.

Swinging my feet over the bed, I turned away from her, ready to go take a cold shower when she came rushing over to me again. I didn't stand. She'd be able to reach my lips easier this way. Only she didn't rush to my front. She reached around me and tugged up my shirt. Somehow, I doubted her actions related to continuing our kiss.

"What happened?" she asked again, sounding really upset this time. She nudged my arm away from my side and leaned closer to inspect the bruises there. I held still, liking it when she ran gentle fingers over the marks.

"This is really scaring me, Clay. I thought werewolves were supposed to be this tough, nearly indestructible, race."

I fought three wolves, one right after the other. How tough did she need me?

"Is this why you were gone last night when I came home?"

She sounded sad and mad at the same time. I didn't think there was any correct answer so I remained silent. As usual.

"Fine."

She turned to leave, obviously angry, but I caught her wrist and gently tugged her to my side. I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed the back of it and then her knuckles, unwilling to let her leave angry. I knew I'd won when she brushed her fingers through my hair.

"I've lost everyone that's ever really mattered to me. I thought caring about a werewolf would be safer," she said softly.

I looked up, my heart breaking for the lonely woman reflected in her gaze. Then I pulled her into my arms. She'd never be lonely again. I wouldn't leave her, no matter what.

Eventually, she pulled away and mumbled something about making breakfast. She fled the room, leaving me to my thoughts as she cooked. I would have joined her, but I knew Rachel was still home.

Gabby cared for me. Her own words. But caring wasn't love. Though I'd happily take any form of affection she'd willingly give, I knew caring wouldn't be enough of a bond to stop the challengers.

Wouldit be enough to ask her to complete the Claim?