Chapter Eight
Trunk
The words come out before I can stop them. Every head in the room turns toward me.
I don’t care.
Someone broke into our home, walked right past where Lila sat with the children and searched Ines’s room. Left it destroyed as a warning. And I was at the mine, useless, while it happened.
Never again.
“I’m staying in her room,” I continue. “On the floor, by the door. No one gets to her without going through me first.”
Ines opens her mouth. I can see the protest forming, she’s going to tell me she doesn’t need protection, that she’s leaving tomorrow anyway, that this is unnecessary.
Then she looks at my face.
And closes her mouth.
“Okay,” she responds. “Thank you.”
Chief wraps up the meeting, giving orders about locks and vigilance. The females drift toward their quarters with mybrothers close behind. Scar disappears down the hallway, I assume he’ll be up all night, hunting through data, looking for evidence of who did this.
I’ll be up all night too. But for different reasons.
Ines and I walk down the hallway toward her room. Her scent surrounds me and underneath it, the faint thread again of arousal that appears whenever I’m near.
She still wants me. Even now. Even after everything.
Not compatible, I remind myself. It doesn’t matter what either of us wants.
The cleaning bots scurry past. They’ve put her room back together while we were meeting.
“It looks almost normal,” I comment. “But I can still smell the intruders. Three males. Xylan. My claws itch to find them and tear them apart.” I stomp back out and grab a blanket from my own bed and then return to settle on the floor by the door. My frame blocks the entire entrance. Anyone trying to get in will have to go through me.
“Um, I’m going to change for bed.” Ines disappears into the small bathroom. I hear water running, the rustle of fabric. I stare at the opposite wall and try not to think about what she looks like undressing.
I fail. Why am I thinking of this? I have scented her and found her incompatible. Why would my body and mind still find her so interesting? This is beyond simple friendship. I literally feel possessive towards Ines Viera. I want to touch her, but I already know that touching her will not start the claiming. I cannot understand why this is happening.
She emerges in soft sleep clothes, her dark curly hair loose around her shoulders. The fabric clings to the swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips. She’s not wearing her green gloves anymore.
Neither am I.
I shoved them in my pocket when I grabbed the blanket. It felt wrong to wear them in here, in the dark, with just the two of us. But now I’m hyperaware of my bare hands andherbare hands.
She climbs into bed and pulls the covers up. Stares at the ceiling.
I hold my personal crystal in my palm. Its blue glow is the only light in the room. The familiar warmth of it steadies me.
“You should rest,” I tell her. “You have a long journey tomorrow.”
“So should you, but I’m worried you won’t be able to because you’re sleeping on a floor with only one blanket. You’re not even in your pajamas. I feel bad sleeping when I know you won’t be able to.”
“I wouldn’t be able to sleep in the next room either. My best chance of actually sleeping is me being right here, in front of your door. Knowing you’re safe will bring me peace.”
She bites her lips and looks at me. A watery smile spreads across her face.
The silence stretches between us. I listen to her breathe. The soft rhythm of it fills the dark room.
