The screen door creaked shut behind them. Crickets chirped somewhere near the tree line, and the wind shifted, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth.
Lyle walked a few steps into the yard, arms crossed over his chest, his posture rigid.
Jake followed, hands shoved in his pockets, though his chin was lifted and his shoulders squared.
Lyle didn’t waste any time.
“So,” he said, voice low but firm, “you’re her mate, then?”
Jake nodded once. “Yes, sir.”
“What’s your intention here?”
Jake frowned. “My intention? She’s my mate. I intend to be with her.”
A long silence stretched between them.
“If you plan to reject her, I’d rather you do it sooner than later,” Lyle said, his eyes dark.
Jake jerked back as if struck. “I don’t want to reject her. I don’t want to hurt her at all.”
Lyle
