Book Chapter7
Quiet indifference greets me when I walk into his room.
The ceiling fan blows cool air on my neck and somehow finds its way to my chest from the little gap in my robe. I don’t hear the constant communication of the pack. The noise is humaling, man–made. It’s not true nature’s music that I can understand.
I want to go back. Taking a step out of the room, I think if I make a run for it, they might not be able to catch me.
I’m very fast now.
I take the first step down, and Cash takes the first step up. Both of us stop and regard each other. I take another step down; he takes two steps up. I take two steps down, he takes another two up, neither of us giving way to the other.
Meeting in the middle, I’m just slightly taller than him because I’m on the upper step and he’s standing below me. Does that irk him right now that I’m above him, looking down?
“You won’t be able to get out, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He says it like he knows what I’m about to do, a look shadowing his face.
“My oldest brother had to be dragged back at least three times before he finally stayed home. My father had his hands full with him. He even had to call my grandfather to help track him.” I try to step around him; his hands go on both railings, blocking my path.
“Why don’t you just turn around? I’m not in the mood right now,” Cash says with tired eyes, as if he hasn’t been sleeping well. He looks like he’s bulked up slightly, hormones of his mate’s heat and subsequent pregnancy making him more chiseled, with firmer muscle tone. His aggression level should be climbing more and more as Kennedy can’t shift, unable to protect herself from any threats that might come her way. The moon provides a natural testosterone–induced bodyguard for her females at this vulnerable time.
I grab onto the rallings with both of my hands blocking his way up.
He leans into me, touching his chest against mine. Lips close to my ears, he says, “Just because you made it out there doesn’t mean
“Excuse me.” Kennedy’s standing behind Cash, wanting to pass by the both of us.
We both concede to her, letting the female pass by. It’s as if our aggression dissipates as she carefully slips past
I can see she accidentally brushes against Cash, reminding me of the way the female leader wolf of the pack showed her affection for the leader male, but Kennedy somehow made it look like it was by accident. It wasn’t; I can tell the difference. I watch her lean in slightly, smelling him. He angles away, looking everywhere else except her way.
When she goes by me, her shoulders slightly curl forward, the faintest of movements, but I can see now. I notice the language of wolves. No sound, but big bold statements are being made right now. Her scent is of life, motherhood.
“I’m taking a shower. You can have one after I’mdone.” He’s talking to Kennedy as he tollows the gap that Kennedy left from my hand being taken off the railing. His shoulder hits mine, shade thrown my way.
“Rya, I’ll see you in the morning Wear something that you don’t mind getting your blood on “There is harmful intent in his tone, looking me in the eyes before he goes into the bathroom.
Walking back into the bedroom, I notice the way ice still clings to the windows. Winter’s icy grip still hasn’t broken its hold on the land yet, their winter lasting a few weeks longer than my birth pack’s.
Everything is how I left it, except the bed is made, nice and tidy. A present sits on the desk by my phone. I smile slightly to myself as I look at it, giddy at getting a present.
I pull out a thick cookbook; the title is The Carnivore’s Guide to Meat.
open up the white envelope. Dallas’s handwriting is scratchy, but it looks like he’s trying to be legible.
I saw this and thought of you, my meat eater! Congratulations,
I miss you XO
Dallas
I feel like twirling again with a happy smile. I like his humor.
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Opening the book, I like that the pictures are matte and not shiny and glossy. You get a better feel for the meal. Sometimes I think that instead of fairy tale books that little girls get about a princess meeting a prince and living happily ever after, they should get
cookbooks
Cookbooks can tell the history of the family, of regions, of culture, of religions, of how to get through the lean times. Not an illusion of make believe with a glass slipper that fits the right person and boom, your prince will love you forever, because that’s not real.
Picking up the phone, I go into the bathroom and turn on the tap. The water sputters out just for a moment before it bursts out full of power. Someone has lined the counter with shampoos and conditioners, body wash, toothpaste, toothbrushes, everything a female.
needs
Looking around, I see no towel, so I step out of my room, watching Cash leave the bathroom he was in with a towel wrapped around his waist. Little beads of water still cling to his bald head. As soon as his door closes, I watch Kennedy slink out quietly, going into the bathroom and quickly returning with the shirt Cash was wearing. She hus it to her nose before shutting the door behind her.
She’s probably feeling the extreme need to have her mate by her side while pregnant, her compulsions getting the better of her, stealing his dirty clothes to satisfy her internal needs.
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