Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Electra
I wake up slowly to purring in my ear. Opening my eyes, I see that Sprinkles is next to me, kneading me. “Making biscuits so early?” I murmur as I reach out to rub my girl between her ears.
She meows, making me giggle. The day I walked out of the pet store with food for my fish and found the little abandoned kitten, I knew I had to bring her home. Granted, I didn’t know the tiny thing was a girl at the time, but as soon as I could, I took her to the vet and got her fixed up. She was sick for a bit too, likely from being a stray, but she’s grown into a beautiful cat.
“I’m sorry you were left alone,” I say as I maneuver myself so I can sit up. I see a bottle of water on the nightstand, so I open it and take a long, satisfying drink. The look Sprinkles gives me has me giggling again; it’s as if she’s admonishing me for abandoning her. “I’d never leave you alone unless something happened to me.”
Which it did when the Red Caps abducted me. Wincing, I stretch as much as possible, my body still bearing the aftermath of their abysmal treatment. Granted, I think the club girls were treated far worse than I was because they were there longer, but even still, they were not gentle with any of us whatsoever.
I decide a shower will help so I leave Sprinkles to her biscuit making and get out of bed. Walking over to where a duffle bag sits, I push aside the thought that Jabba was the one to get my clothing and choose a clean outfit to wear. He even put my hygiene items in the bag I have for them, which has me smiling as I walk into the ensuite, gasping when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
“You look awful, E,” I mutter to myself as I set my clothes and the bag down to peer at my reflection. “Holy goddesses, there’s no way a man like him would ever give you a second glance.” I mean, Jabba is perfection. He’s large and burly, his muscles have muscles, and he’s the epitome of a man’s man. He is fit as a fiddle, and I have a muffin top if I bend over.
For some reason, that thought makes my heart hurt a little bit. I’ve been alone for so long now, not by choice, but since being rescued, the longing I thought was long gone has made its presence known. It came barreling at me like an unexpected slap to the face. Shaking my head at my fanciful thoughts, I turn the shower on and while the water heats, I strip down, ignoring the mottled bruises that cover nearly every square inch of my being. Grabbing my shampoo and conditioner, as well as the soap I make from all of the herbs I hunt for in the fields, I step into the shower stall and sigh as the water hits my knotted body.
“Goddess, that feels good,” I murmur as I set about getting my hair wet so I can shower.
Harmony and Karsyn did what they could to clean me up, of course, but I need to thoroughly wash away the Red Caps’ touch from my body and start the ritual that’ll help cleanse my soul from their foulness while I’m at it. It’s going to take longer for my soul pain to go away, but just being around Harmony, Karsyn, their girls, as well as Jabba, is already helping tremendously where the mutilating memories are concerned.
As the water sluices over my body, I find myself humming, the connection to my affinity helping to further heal me and strengthen my power, which was waning due to where I was being kept. It’ll probably take a few more days, but it appears I’m not going anywhere just yet, so I have the time.
I take the time to wash and rinse myself twice, but resist scrubbing my skin completely raw, not wanting anyone to question whether or not the witch they have in their midst is crazy or not. Grinning, I finish up then step out to grab one of the fluffiest towels I’ve ever felt and fold it around me, sighing in contentment when the plushy material hits my flesh. With one wrapped around my head turban style, I methodically dry myself, occasionally wincing when I touch a tender area. Once I’m done, I grab my homemade lotion, which has more herbs and plants infused into the silky base I made and thoroughly rub it all over my body until it absorbs in my skin making it feel satiny smooth.
Since I don’t have a hairdryer, I opt to brush out my long hair and allow it to dry naturally. After dressing, I slip on a pair of fuzzy socks that I don’t remember asking for, but appreciate all the same, then re-enter the bedroom where I come to a complete stop.
Jabba is sitting in the chair in the corner, and I see a tray sitting on the nightstand. When he feels my essence near him, a handsome smile crosses his face even though he hasn’t glanced in my direction. “Hey,” he says when he finally lifts his head and he sees me standing there, looking unsure of myself.
“Hi,” I shyly reply as I wonder how long he’s been here. Did he hear my slight moans whenever I hit a tender area? I know I’m surrounded by shifters and their hearing, as well as their sense of smell is superbly heightened.
“Figured you’d like something to eat,” he replies, motioning to the tray. I’m not sure how to react here, I’m not good at flirting even though every instinct I have is screaming that I should let him know I’m interested in more than friendship. But I’m too shy to put myself out there in that brazen manner. I’m not sure if I can mentally take rejection if he doesn’t feel the same tug toward me as I do with him.
“Oh! You shouldn’t have gone through all the trouble,” I mutter.
“It wasn’t any trouble at all,” he says. “Just for the record, I don’t really cook. Harmony oversees the club girls who have gotten remarkably better with what they prepare for us to eat. No one has gotten food poisoning yet.”
I snicker as I make my way over to the bed, get myself settled then put the tray on my lap. “Well, that’s always a good thing to hear before I start eating.”
His rich, deep chuckle fills the room, sending frissons of desire coiling through my body to settle in my midsection. I’ve never had the reaction I’m having around anyone else and had begun to wonder if I was possibly asexual. Feeling the way my core clenches whenever he’s nearby, I realize I was simply waiting for the right one to come along and wake up that yearning that’s been dormant. Luckily for me, he did because he’s one fine specimen of a man. Um, wolf.
My face reddens when I see his nostrils flare, knowing he has likely scented my arousal. As my gaze shies away from his, I decide to focus on my food instead. It’s a better alternative than thinking about something, or should I say someone, that may or may not be mine.
I’ve always read storylines where mates saw each other and instalove followed. However, the cookie never crumbles that way for me. I’ve always had to work for what I had, and considering men weren’t a determining factor when it came to building my holistic career, I’m in a whole new realm here.
“How are the other women doing?” I ask. I know I’ve checked on them before and while I don’t totally understand how they can willingly be with whatever club member wants them, it’s not my place to judge. Besides, they were kind to me and tried to help as much as possible while we were enslaved.
“They’re healing, same as you.”
“They were with the Red Caps for a long time, weren’t they?” I question.
“Yeah, unfortunately. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for you, we probably wouldn’t have found them,” he admits. His words have me rearing back in confusion. I can’t fathom for the life of me how I helped them be tracked down seeing as they’d been missing for as long as they had been. And I know from our earlier conversation, the club never stopped searching for them.
Deciding I’ll never understand what he means unless I ask, I gather the courage and do just that. “Me? How did I help?”
I mean, it’s not like I’d ever seen any of them before I woke up, so I don’t understand what he’s saying.
He seems a bit uncomfortable right now as his body shifts from one side to the other in his seat, so I push the half-eaten tray of food aside and wait, dread now filling me with what he might say.
“When Prowler and I were searching, we shifted, of course, and picked up the faint scent of the club girls. Except, the closer we got to where they were being held, another scent overrode theirs.” My eyes widen. Surely, he doesn’t mean me, right? But he must by the way he’s laser focused on me and my reaction.
“What?” I’m not prepared for what he says next and nearly fall off the bed in shock.
“You, Electra. Your delectable, enticing scent drew me to you like a flower draws in the honeybee.”
His ears are slightly red around the edges, so I know he’s not used to expressing himself in such a way, which I find absolutely adorable on so many levels. Because I’m almost positive, given what minimal interactions I’ve seen between him and Jazzy, he’s got that gooey marshmallow inside that all women secretly crave.
“What are you saying, Jabba?” I’m equal parts terrified and exhilarated. No matter what he says next, I need to pull my big girl panties up and accept it. It may take a minute for me to digest whatever it is, but this won’t be the first time I’ve taken a hit and swayed with the punch.
“You’re my mate.”
My upper body rocks backward and skepticism sets in. These things, these miraculous things don’t happen to me. I need him to be absolutely sure before I allow myself to accept this information as truth. “How can you be sure?”
Great, Electra. Such a smooth conversationalist. He’s a dang shifter and from all the lore I’m aware of, their mates emanate a particular scent just for them when they’re nearby. I briefly wonder what I smell like to him. I mean, if water is part of what he smells, that has no odor as a rule. So, does that mean I have no discernible essence I emit?
“Because to me, you smell like a warm, clean breeze, like freshly washed sheets hanging out, with a light, floral undertone. You smell like home to me, Electra. My home.”
“But how would that work, Jabba? You’re a shifter and I’m a witch. I don’t have that mate instinct inside of me like you do,” I reply.
Hope fills my heart as I wait for his response.
“I know you feel the connection between us,” he states.
“I do,” I admit. “But it’s not like one where I’m grateful that you rescued me. Oh, goddesses, I’m messing this up. What I mean is, I am attracted to you, even though witches don’t have that intuition inside of them for their partner.”
“Harmony and Karsyn are both witches mated to wolves,” he replies to my earlier question. “So, the mate bond, once we complete it, that is, will grow within you, just like it has with them.”
“The mating draw. I’ve heard of that in my family’s grimoire,” I whisper. “There are legends that say the strongest coupling stems from a witch and shifter relationship. According to the lore that was passed down to my grandmother from her mother, you will find a large quantity of those relationships in great times of danger.”