Page 9

Rallan

M y favorite seat is not as comfortable as it normally is.

The calming sound of the rain pattering against my roof is not nearly as soothing as it should be.

No, my body is tight with tension and a need to be back around my favorite creature.

She has decided that she wishes to spend time with the others during these storms.

I snarl at myself, thinking about how I should have offered to stay with her.

I should have told her that I didn’t trust anyone else to keep her safe.

That would not bode well for the males going to her tribe, though.

That is the only reason I did not put up more of a fight about her not being with me.

I shift in my seat, hoping somehow I will find the perfect way to sit in it so I will stop worrying about Simone and will instead enjoy my solitude.

Not that I have ever really enjoyed solitude.

I am a male who is used to being liked and friends with many others.

I have not spent the storms alone in many, many seasons.

Yet, when Veya came knocking on my door right before the storms started, I sent her on her way.

She was hurt for a moment before I explained to her that my soul had been called, and I could take no others anymore.

Then she was very happy for me and told me she would very much enjoy getting to know my mate.

I did not have the heart to tell her that Simone is not my mate yet.

Or, really, I wanted to pretend a little more that I was already accepted.

I am a patient male, but it is still nice to acknowledge that Simone is mine, even if it has yet to happen.

I huff to myself, deciding it will be almost impossible to find any comfort in my favorite seat or anywhere else in my home during this storm.

Simone is not here. It has me more on edge than anything else.

I stand from the chair, staring at it and baring my teeth as though I can scare it into being more comfortable.

I wish there were an actual physical reason for my discomfort and not the fact that I am trapped here while my mate is so far from me.

I cannot even make it back to the great hall, considering the rain is hitting the house harder now.

It would be foolish, and as much as I am a foolish male in many things, I am not about to die before I have even been with my mate.

The door to my home swings open. The wind causes it to slam against the inside of my house, and rain pours in as a very small, very soaked female stumbles in. I’m stunned into stillness for a moment before I force my limbs into action.

The door is the first thing I deal with because I cannot even calm my emotions enough to think of Simone being here.

I grab the door, struggle to close it against the wind and throw the extra latch over it.

I’m grateful I did not do that earlier because then Simone would have been trapped outside until I heard her banging on the door.

The thought has my stomach turning, and I have to take a few deep breaths before I turn to face the little human who traveled through a storm to get here.

“What do you think you are doing?” I ask, trying my best—and failing—to keep my voice calm and devoid of the anger I feel at how much danger she put herself in.

“I think I’m here in my home to wait out the storm,” Simone says, just as devoid of emotion as me, which means she is huffing and puffing her displeasure as well.

I can hear the vitriol in her words and the accusation that I have done something wrong when I know for certain that I have not. Oh no, it most certainly is her who has done something wrong because she is here, soaked through, and—

I turn away from her again, not liking that I cannot think clearly with her tunic soaked through. It clings to her curves and shows me almost the same view I had when I first stumbled upon her all bare.

“You should not be here,” I snap.

My hands are balled into tight fists at my sides, but I cannot stop myself from aiding her when she so clearly needs it. I stomp through the house, making sure to spare the smallest of glimpses at Simone.

She seems just as angry as me, but I do not know how she could be. Her eyes keep darting around the house as though she is looking for something in particular. She is so concerned about finding whatever she is looking for that she follows me into my bedroom without me even asking her to.

“Why shouldn’t I be here?” Simone asks.

She moves around me once she’s in my room and begins to look around like she thinks she will find something to damn me with. I grab a spare tunic out of my wardrobe, but do not hand it to her just yet. First, I want to know why she is acting so strange.

She made it very clear she wanted to be away from me for this storm, and yet she just put her life in danger to get back to me. I do not like it. Well, a small part of me likes it because I think it is her soul telling her to be near me.

“It was dangerous to come back when the storms started,” I answer her question before asking one of my own. “What are you looking for? Maybe I can assist you since you seem so set on finding something.”

Simone, who is looking behind my door as though there is a secret hidden there, turns to face me. She has a hard look on her face and a stern determination in her eyes. “Where is she?”

I frown at her question, not really understanding who she could be speaking about.

When I only tilt my head to the side, she places her hands on her hips.

It draws my attention down, and I remember why I came to my bedroom.

I need to get her something else to wear because, currently, her breasts are looking right at me.

Truly they are asking me to indulge myself and to feel their softness. But as much as Simone’s breasts might want my tender touches, she seems not ready to admit that to herself.

“Who is meant to be hiding behind my door?” I ask, holding out the tunic for Simone.

My teeth grind against one another when I see how wet her hair is, too. She is very adamant that she does not enjoy her hair being wet unless she is cleaning it. When she has my tunic in her hands, I search my wardrobe for some more spare tunics.

“I saw someone follow you when you left the great hall.” Simone is a quick female. She asks the question, takes off her wet tunic, and replaces it with my tunic, all before I can turn around.

“You were watching to see who would follow me out of the great hall?” I ask, amusement beginning to soften my tone.

I do not like that Simone put herself in danger, but now I understand why. I turn around with a few tunics in my hand and motion for her to sit on my bed. She hesitates before she realizes what it is I intend to do.

I grab one of the thick coils of her hair and begin to dry it as best as I can. I have seen how much time she takes to dry them when she finishes her bathing, so I know this is an important part of her routine.

“Did you come back to the house because you were afraid I would spend a storm with someone who was not you?”

“No,” Simone snaps.

I do not believe her for even a single beating in my chest.

I shift my position around, trying to find the most comfortable way to sit to dry her hair.

I do not miss how she leans against me or follows my movements as I do.

I say nothing when I throw a leg on either side of her, and she scoots back against me.

I do not mention her hand falling to her side, and her little finger touches my thigh as though she thinks I will not notice it.

These are all things Simone will deny as soon as I bring them up, so instead, I will annoy her as I do so well.

“Oh, so you do not care that I have her waiting in your room, then?” I try to keep the smile out of my voice so it sounds as though I am being very serious.

Simone tries to bolt out from between my legs as soon as I ask, but my reflexes are much quicker than hers. I wrap my free hand around her waist and keep her seated right where she is.

“Let me go,” she says through gritted teeth. If I were to look at her face, I am sure one of her eyes would be twitching.

“Why? So you can go see if I was telling the truth about having someone waiting in your room?” I know it is what she wants to do, but I am curious if I can get her to admit that she is a jealous little mate.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“How about I tell you if she is there or not if you tell me why you came back?” I move on to a new section of her hair, letting my claws scratch gently at her scalp as I move.

She would never tell me this, but she enjoys it very much.

I can see it in the little bumps that appear over her arms when I do it and then way she lets out a barely audible sound of contentment.

“I came back because this is where I’ve been staying during the storms.” Simone once again lies to me. “I decided I didn’t want to be in the great hall because I don’t know any of them.”

“Ah.” I pause, trying to figure out the best words to use to get under her skin. “So it was not because you saw another follow me out?”

“Why would I care about that?” Simone asks, her voice breathier as I continue to work her hair.

I think she very much enjoys having someone dote on her.

I wish she would tell me because then I could tell her I would dote on her in everything that I do.

Yes, it could be what bonds us, not this bickering we are so good at.

I know I would very much enjoy getting to help with her moisturizing, as she calls it, where she rubs oil all over her skin.

“I do not know why you would care since you have made it clear you are unhappy that you lust for me.” I shrug. “But you did return to my home, soaked through, and the first thing you asked about was where she was. I think that means you care at least a little about someone else being here.”

Simone makes a sound that I am sure is meant to be her rebuttal, but it is much too pleasured to sound even remotely like she is upset.

Yes, I have found a way to tame my vicious little mate, and it is with head scratches.

It is strange, but I am keeping this information with me always so I can get her this relaxed in my presence again.

Maybe I can convince her that every night, she should allow me to scratch her scalp.

Maybe then she will warm to the idea of mating with me.

“You could just admit that you are a jealous female,” I whisper after long moments.

She has not spoken in so long that I am starting to wonder if she has fallen asleep.

When she does not tense at my teasing of her being jealous or immediately refute it, I am sure she is finding her rest. She snuggles closer to me, though, making sure not to turn her face closer to the center of my chest.

It would be unfortunate for her to smell from my chest and find out she is, in fact, my mate.

It is why she does not cuddle closer to my chest but instead curls herself into my arm that is holding her.

It leaves me enough space to continue working on her hair, and she is not in danger of lusting after me.

“Not jealous,” Simone says, the only sign that she is awake as she nuzzles closer to me. “Not even a little.”

“Of course not.” I keep my voice light, letting my fingers fall from her hair and down her cheek.

I do not move my body and instead decide that this will be how I sit forever if she sleeps like this. Maybe I can also convince her to share my bed with me every night after I have calmed her by giving her head scratches. Yes, this is a wonderful plan. I will tell her when she wakes next.

For right now? I will continue to dry her hair until I know it is as dry as if the rains never touched it, and I will bask in the warmth of knowing that Simone was almost certainly jealous that another female was in my home.