At me? Or at himself?
“What do you want from me?” I call toward his back, forgetting he can’t hear me.
I chase him into the kitchen and tap his shoulder. “What do you want from me?”
“We’ll get to that.” He pulls open the refrigerator door and pulls out a carton of eggs and a slab of bacon. “After I feed you.”
He wants to feed me. That shouldn’t make my heart flap its wings like a trapped bird in a cage.
It’s the word choice. Not after we eat. Or after breakfast.
After I feed you.
That sounds like something a male wolf says to his mate.
Grandmothers, is that what this is? Goosebumps race up my arms, and I start to tremble with the revelation.
Is Noah my mate? Is that why I’ve been dreaming of him? But that can’t be–he’s also the wolf with no ears. The wolf who will destroy the pack.
Fate wouldn’t put me in that kind of position. Fate wouldn’t pair me with the enemy.
Or would she?
“There’s enough hot water in the tank for one of us to take a shower.” Noah pulls the cast-iron skillet out of the dish rack and drops a chunk of butter into it.
Shower. Fate, yes. That’s what I need right now. And to escape this male’s presence, so I can get myself back together.
“I can make it quick,” I offer.
“Nah, take your time. You need it more than me.”
I cock a hip. “Are you saying that I smell?” Dearest Grandmothers–am I flirting?
His gaze alights on my hand at my waist and that golden sheen rolls over his irises. “Only a little.” He sniffs and scrunches up his nose, pretending he smelled something bad.
We’re flirting. Tingles of excitement fizz all around me. I laugh, and a strange look comes over his face. Something akin to…longing.
“You’re smiling,” he says.
My smile falters.
His own lips quirk although his smile looks a little sad. Wistful, almost. “I haven’t seen you smile before, Seeress.”
I shrug. “I didn’t have anything to smile about.” I turn and go into the bathroom, turning on the water and stepping in as soon as it’s warm.
Fates, the hot water feels good. The shower is surprisingly roomy for a three-room log cabin. The only soap is a bottle of hand soap from the sink, but it smells like honeysuckle and lemon, and it feels luxurious to use it to wash my hair and whole body. My wolf is preening. She wants to look good for our sexy captor.
He’s not sexy, he’s holding us hostage, I scold her, even though I had no problem flirting with him in the kitchen. Nor cuddling up with him in the bed. I slept better than I have in years, maybe ever. It was like my wolf knew I had a protector who would keep me safe, so I was able to let go and rest.
That would make sense if he were my mate.
He feeds me better than anyone from my own pack, that’s for sure. Even the clothes he gave me to wear were so soft and warm–and smelled like him.
But what if it’s a ruse to break me down? I don’t have experience with being courted by men. I’ve been protected from males my entire life. I need to be cautious. I can’t fall for it. Even if we’re sharing visions…
Oma is screeching at me from the grave, but…I don’t know if her advice is in my best interest.
I don’t know what to think.
