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I turn my face away. “I’m allergic to fish.”
“Hm?”
“Allergic.”
“Taste my fish soup,” he persists.
“But I can’t eat it.”
“You don’t have to eat it. You can sip it like a drink.” He shows me how to sip from the bowl. “Now you try.”
“I’m allergic,” I repeat.
“If only I knew what that means.”
“Oh, okay. It means that if I eat fish, bad things happen to my body.” I grasp my throat and squeeze until heat crawls up my face, and I start choking.
Horrified, Spence stares.
“My throat,” I choke out barely breathing now, “swells and I can’t breathe.” I stick out my tongue and start choking, then fall onto the bed, making my body twitch until I fake die for a few moments.
I open one eye.
Spence is leaning back, gaping. He looks from me to the pot and back at me. “No fish.” He puts down the bowl and makes his way out. When he opens the door, the mountain air bursts into the room and makes me crawl back under the covers with only my eyes peeking from under the pile of blankets and furs.
“No fish,” he announces. “She’svergicand dies.”
Males outside murmur, and I wonder how many are out there, and how many brought the hunted goods. Also, I wonder if he’ll ever close the door. The fire can’t rage hard enough to warm up the place, and I’m already calculating how many times I’ll have to get up in the night to replace the wood since the pit is small, made for cooking, not heating the house. It fits only one or two logs at a time.
“I have a boar,” a male says, and pushes his way past Spence, who snarls near the male’s neck, snapping his teeth.
The male smirks and approaches my bed. This one wears a fur coat and a thick light-brown beard over his inflated belly. His kilt hangs under his belly and is fastened by a belt that carries many weapons, one of them a bloody ax he probably used to slay the boar he’s dragging by a rope behind him.
Once he reaches the bed, he doesn’t kneel, but hovers over me. “Close the door, now.”
Spence growls. “You should’ve cleaned that animal before bringing it into the breeder’s room.”
“She’s a maid and used to the smell. Aren’t you, darling?”
“You don’t mean to breed her.”
“I brought a fresh kill, didn’t I?”
Spence grunts, still by the door, still holding it open. I’m going to freeze to death. Is that desirable now? Why yes, I think it might be. I’d rather freeze than breed with a lycan, especially with the male who brought the boar. There are pieces of bread stuck in his beard. I bet they’re several spans old. Gross.
And the boar… Gah. “Take it away.”
When I think the male will leave, he grunts and settles onto the stool Spence sat on.
The cold air threatens to freeze the feather comforter under the furs and blankets and enter my bones. My teeth chatter, and I ball up my body to keep warm.
“Close the door behind you, Spence,” the male says.
Spence remains by the door.
“What will your Alpha say when the McMar breeder he brought to pay off my brother’s life freezes to death?” He chuckles as if he said something funny.
“He’s your Alpha too,” Spence says, but the door closes behind him as he leaves.
