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“Then I can’t eat.”
“Marybell.” Philippa adopts an annoying mother hen tone. “You have to eat.”
“No, I don’t.”
She chuckles. “I’m unsure if you’re aware, but there’s nothing more thrilling for an alpha male than a chase. Nothing. So you,” Philippa says, and pokes my shoulder, “just keep refusing. The harder you push back, the more he’s gonna want to break you in.”
I snort. “I wouldn’t sleep with him if he were the last lycan on the mountain.”
Philippa laughs. “ I hear that when a lycan mates, there’s no sleeping.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I don’t, actually. But I want to.”
“You want to breed with Seith?” A sour taste floods my mouth.
Philippa heads for the door, and once there, she turns. “I have two small girls who need to eat. Currently, they’re with my late husband’s sister, who will take them if I can’t care for them. And trust me, Marybell, it’s hard to earn a living that’s not on my back and if I’m to get on my back, I want it to be as a breeder with a male who’s going to love and respect me and shelter my girls. So yeah, if the Alpha offered, I would eat from his hand and say ‘thank you, may I have another.’”
Philippa leaves.
I stand there pondering her words and decide to keep her around, because no way can I refuse Philippa’s help knowing she has kids to feed. I rush after her, but stop at the door. Seith blocks it.
“It’s you,” I say, faced with his broad chest. I step back, giving myself some much-needed distance.
“May I come in?” He swaggers inside, all the way to the kitchen, where he picks up the tray.
With the door still open, I contemplate running down the street and disappearing into the forest. When I glance back at him, his eyes are bright with magic, and he’s standing in the middle of the room still holding the tray. “Are you thinking about running?”
“Yes.”
He puts the tray down on the table in front of the couch and reaches behind him to yank off his sweater. He cracks his neck and gives me a feral smile. “Do it.”
“Would you chase me?”
“Mmhm.” His claws are lengthening already as he prepares to pounce.
I close the door and lean against it, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why are you here?”
“You know why.”
“I don’t.”
“I’ve come to feed you.”
“No.” I shake my head.
Seith smiles. “Oh, Marybell, how I love your defiance. When your heat comes, I swear on Natra, I’ll make you beg for it.”
“For what?”
From his pocket, he takes out an orange. “Come, and I’ll show you.” He tosses the orange up in the air and catches it.
I frown. Show me what?
10
MARYBELL
