Besides, it's a terrible thing to see a man crawling ...
begging." He laughed.
"I bet.
Go to bed, Mercy.
Morning comes early." He started down the hallway to his bedroom, then turned, walking backward.
"I'm going to tell Adam that you said he begged you." I raised an eyebrow.
"Then I'll tell him that you accused him of lying." He laughed.
"Good night, Mercy." I'd taken Adam for mine, chosen with my eyes and heart open.
But Samuel's laugh still made me smile.
I loved Samuel, too.
He worried me.
Sometimes he seemed just like the old Samuel, funny and lighthearted.
But I was pretty sure that a lot of the time he was just going through the motions, like an actor given a cue--"Enter downstage left and smile happily." He'd come here, to stay with me, to try to get better--which was a good sign, like an alcoholic who goes to his first A.A.
meeting.
But I wasn't sure if being here was helping him or not.
He was old.
Older than I'd known when I'd grown up in his father's pack.
And though werewolves don't die of old age the way humans do, it can kill them just as effectively.
Maybe if I could have loved Samuel differently.
Maybe if Adam hadn't been there.
If I had taken Samuel as my mate as he'd wanted me to when he'd moved himself into my home, maybe it would have fixed him.
He frowned at me.
"What's wrong?" But you can't marry someone to fix him, even if you love them.
And I didn't love Samuel the way a woman should love her mate, the way I loved Adam.
Samuel didn't love me that way either.
Close, but not quite.
And except in horseshoes and hand grenades, close doesn't count.
"I love you, you know," I told him.
His face went blank for a moment.
He said, "Yes.