She doesn’t argue, just holds my gaze a beat longer than she needs to, then nods, once, and looks away, and busies herself with the cooling traq.
The meeting breaks up around us. Brothers rising, the document going with Scar, the morning resuming its ordinaryshape. Children are giggling somewhere down the hall. I hear Jana’s voice in the kitchen. And then it’s just the two of us in the lull, her sitting with her cup and me beside her, not wanting to be anywhere else in the universe.
“Thank you,” she says quietly. “For giving me the room next door. And the—” she gestures vaguely at the traq, the clothes, the whole night of being cared for. “For all of it. You didn’t have to.”
“I did, actually,” I say, before I can stop myself.
She glances up, a small line forming between her brows. “What does that mean?”
Everything. It means everything.”It means you’re my guest,” I say instead, “and I take that seriously.”
She huffs something that’s almost a laugh, shakes her head, and looks at me, really looks, the way she did on the porch, like she’s trying to work out exactly what I am. And I am close enough now, in the quiet, that when I breathe in I get all of her. The clean scent of her after sleep. The traq. And underneath it, threaded all the way through it, something new.
The scent of her arousal.
It takes me a full second to understand what I’m smelling. When I do, every thought in my head goes silent at once. She wants me. The female I have been so carefully, so honorably not touching skin to skin is sitting six inches away, looking at my mouth, and her body is telling me, in the one language I cannot possibly mishear, that I am not the only one who wishes this could be more.
Chapter 4
Hallie
By the time the sun is properly up, the whole compound is eating breakfast together.
Maxon is beside me. His warmth lights up my whole left side. I try not to think how good it feels having him so close. How good he looks and how much I love the deep sound of his voice. Thank gods he has no idea how much I’m attracted to him. That would be embarrassing.
In the morning light I can clearly see the inside of the rooms. This is a nice place. The kitchen is large and modern. The table is made from a dark wood, as are all the chairs. On Chronos, all the décor is famously a spooky mixture of red, black and dark woods. But, I suppose because there are so many humans living here too, there is the addition of other colors on the walls and in artwork. It’s nice.
I take a sip of juice and another bite of savory meat. The food is incredible. Every meal so far has been better than anything I could afford in three years on Chronos. They are very lucky to have an actual professional chef and another amateur chef in the family.
I reach across the table for another sweet roll when Lila accidentally bumps my arm and causes me to drop the bread.“Oh, sorry,” she offers, warm and quick. “I’m not entirely focused this morning. It’s just been a lot of info to take in, in one diurnal. Learning about a conspiracy against Margol Xylan coming all the way from Chronos. And it’s not every day Rook finally scents his—” She stops. Her hand comes up over her mouth. “Oh no. I didn’t mean to…”
I pick up the roll. “What did Rook scent?” I ask brightly.
No one answers. Eyes drop to plates. Maxon, beside me, has gone very still.
And then Roxy states, like it’s the most obvious fact in the universe, “Rook scented his bride.”
I blink at her. Because that doesn’t make sense. “How could he scent his bride? Xylan clasp hands to find out if they are mating compatible. Bare skin to bare skin, that’s how a male finds his mate. That’s how all of you foundyours.” I gesture at the table.
“Yes, that’s the usual way,” Naomi says gently. “The clasp is how it’s confirmed. Skin to skin, and the bond either takes or it doesn’t.” She pauses. “But the Fever Brothers have a rare talent where they are all able to scent their mates prior to a hand clasping ceremony. They know who their bride is by scent alone.”
I turn my head.
Maxon is watching me. He hasn’t touched his food. His dark eyes are steady on mine and there’s something in them I don’t have a name for yet.
“You scented your bride?”
He nods.
“Who?” I ask. “Who is your bride?”
The whole table holds its breath. And Maxon, who I have already learned will not lie to me, meets my eyes. “You. I believe that you are my future bride.”
“Me?” I squeak.
“Most males learn who their bride is through a positive clasping,” he explains. “But my brothers and I have the rare ability to tell who our bride will be ahead of time by scent alone and I scented you the moment I opened the front door last night. There is no pressure. Just because I learned that if we were to clasp hands, the result would be positive and lead to a claiming ceremony, this doesn’t mean we need to act on it. You keep wearing the gloves, exactly like you have been, and nothing changes. I’m not going to act on it.”
“You don’t... want to take me as your bride?” I blurt out.
