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I’ve never behaved like that in my life. Normally, I’m the friendly, easy-going, silent librarian. I keep to myself because I always feel so out of place around everyone else. No one really gets my sense of humor or jokes.
My mom used to say that it was because I was smarter than them and they didn’t understand what I was saying. I think that she might have been right. It was always just easier to remain quiet and keep my thoughts to myself.
So where did that come from? Why couldn’t I hold my tongue around that guy?
And why did it feel so good?
FIVE
Koda
I pace around my room, trying to get my wolf under control before I go to see my little prisoner. The mating moon is coming up in two days and my wolf is frantic and pissed off that we haven’t claimed our mate yet.
He wants me to get over whatever hang-ups I have about our mate being a human and mark her already. The only time that he calms down and stops trying to take over is when we're with her.
I’ve been going to talk to her for the last three days. So far, things haven’t been going great. Every conversation starts out normal-ish, but it quickly turns into verbal sparring, which should piss me off. And it does. Especially since I’ve been keeping track of our little matches, and so far, we’re tied.
I got the last word on the first day I brought her breakfast, as well as dinner that night. She got it the other two days, which means that the pressure is on for today. I didn’t know how competitive I was until my mate showed up, all feisty and full of fucking sass. I didn’t expect her to be so clever, and I certainly never guessed the curvy little human would challenge me with every word.
She makes me work for every interaction with her, every piece of information. Which is the opposite of what I should be doing. I need to figure out how to reject her properly, send her on her way, and also be the strong leader my country needs me to be, sans mate.
My wolf growls inside of me, telling me how stupid and immature I’m being. I grit my teeth as I feel him try to take over. The asshole doesn’t care about our little competition, he just wants our mate marked, satiated, and on her way to growing our first pup.
I can’t seem to get the image of the red-headed enchantress round with my child to go away. Dragging a hand down my face, I give myself a light slap on the cheek, hoping to startle a little sense into my own damn brain.
Once the crazy thoughts have somewhat subsided, I head to my bedroom door. My impatient wolf finally calms down. He knows we’re on our way to see our mate, so I’m finally going to get a bit of respite from his constant whining.
I head up the backstairs toward the tower and try to calm my racing heart as I near my mate. I hate to admit it, but sparring with Salem is the best part of my day. It’s also the most fun that I’ve had in a long time.
“I see you got lunch,” I say as I lean against the bars.
I could swear she almost smiles when she sees me, and I wonder if she enjoys these sparring matches as well.
“No thanks to you,” she says, popping the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth.
“Who do you think told the chef to make that for you?”
She rolls her eyes, too busy chewing to respond.
I watch her intently as she finishes her meal, unable to tear my eyes away from her beauty. Her fiery red hair is pulled to one side, twisted into a braid, and held together with a piece of string she presumably found on the floor somewhere.
The woman looks disturbingly out of place in her harsh surroundings. Her hair shouldn't touch whatever random shit has been in this cell. She should have the best hair ties. Made of gold, if that's a thing.
What the fuck? I scold myself. Too far.
“What are we fighting about today?” my prisoner asks, making me smirk despite my best efforts.
“You, I guess.”
“All out of topics you know anything about already?” she snaps back with a pitying smile. I bite back my own grin. God, it feels good to be real, to have someone call me out.
“Just thought I should learn more about my prisoner.”
She rolls her eyes and stands. I watch her, my wolf and I both tracking her every movement. Despite the baggy jeans and zip-up hoodie she’s wearing, there’s no missing her large, round breasts, curvy hips, and Jesus, thick, meaty thighs I want to bury my face between right this goddamn second.
Swallowing down the nearly violent lust threatening to take over, my wolf and I count each sway of her hips as she steps closer and closer. The woman leans against the opposite side of the door and my wolf pants inside of me as her sweet scent wafts our way.
“Are you curious about me, King?” she asks. I force my face to remain stoic.
