~ CASIMIR ~
There was a moment, a vision blooming in my mind of a different life-a different male. Given, peaceful, joyful… I could see myself as the mate and husband, the reluctant King. The delighted lover and mentor. Happy… and weak. Happy to be weak.
Weak to her disapproval. Weak to the loss of her. Weak to her pain.
I sucked in a sharp breath, fingers clawing into her hip, her legs, holding her tightly against my chest as if someone was about to rip her free. Then the terror rushed in on the back of the rest of that image: Me happy and weak, and failing. Impossible to lead the packs, to maintain my strength, to control anything if she held such power.
Impossible.
Utterly.
