Chapter 6 #2
I also had a fairly vested interest in her not finding me scary again, and I was pretty much willing to do anything to change that perception, even if it meant hiding her from everyone else.
I knew how the rest of campus felt about me.
Something I had always preferred because it was far easier to keep people away from you when they were scared shitless of what you would do to them if they even looked in your direction.
But I didn’t want Effie thinking that way about me.
It didn’t help that I was already intimidating because of my size. It was a natural instinct to be terrified of fenrir wolves—we were goddamn predators.
Effie wasn’t scared of Julian at all. It was complete bullshit.
I was far more fucking rational than that psycho.
Although, I suppose the objective fear people felt for me could be used for good.
Effie was a bitten female wolf. Any male wolf that saw her wouldn’t be able to help but want to take her for himself and try to fucking mate her.
Something that infuriated me. Don’t get me wrong, the idea of rutting into Effie and breeding her was one hundred percent an instinctual urge rolling through my head right now…
but it was one that I was going to have to ignore.
Giving into that didn’t make us any better than the creatures that inhabited our souls.
Not all fenrir wolves were this in tune with their wolf side, but because of the bonded element, I felt the strong pull of animalistic intentions like mating and breeding, and I knew Caedmon was the same as a lycan.
I had never considered how much of a problem it would be until now.
Until my mate was inches away and within grasp.
Shit. I didn’t want anyone else looking at her, and I really didn’t want anyone considering her as a mating option.
This was infuriating. It was even worse because it was clear she didn’t fully understand what was going on. I mean, did we tell her? Did we wait for her to come to her own conclusion?
I didn’t want to rush her. I really didn’t want to scare her.
But I also wanted to mark her as our mate.
Immediately. Her not knowing she was our mate wouldn’t stop any of us from acting how we already were, so it almost seemed like a moot point.
We should just tell her… or wait twenty-four hours so she didn’t think we were absolutely insane.
After all, she had zero reason to trust us, and considering what a shitty pack she had come from, it wouldn’t surprise me if she wanted to run.
When we first formed this bond, I had accepted, and my magic had eventually given into the notion that we had to share in the first place.
I wasn’t about to share her with any other shitheads, though.
I think that was why I had loved it so much when she had found Aaren so unappealing.
I could protect her from others as long as I knew they didn’t hold any interest or appeal to her.
If they did… I wasn’t sure how I would handle that.
Because the concept had me both wanting to give her whatever she wanted and to tear out their throats.
When Aaren had stopped by, I had been objectively worried that he would find Effie appealing as a mate as well.
I knew that wasn’t how blood-bonded packs worked, because unlike most wolf species, there was very literally a fated mate for us.
But I’d still been worried. Hell, I wouldn’t have even blamed him—the woman was perfect.
I would have probably still killed him, though.
Then again, it’s not like you could stop a mating reaction.
I’d nearly had a goddamn heart attack when I had walked into the kitchen and found myself faced with her divine form leaning up against the counter as if it was nothing.
As if her existence wasn’t completely destroying everything around me.
As if her breathing wasn’t enough to make me have a goddamn hard-on.
Already, her natural scent was filling up our space, and I absolutely loved it.
I wanted to be marked in her scent, and I wanted her to be marked in me.
Maybe I should pull her against me and bury my head against her soft neck, leaving a small bite mark.
Not a full mating one… just a small one.
I nearly rolled my eyes at that. As if I would be able to fucking stop myself. I needed to stay the hell away from her neck. Although, every time she placed her delicate hand over my heart, it rattled the cage of emotions I had long buried, making me want to give into all of it at once.
I knew we could keep her safe if we officially claimed her. Not that we couldn’t do so now, but until we marked her, there would always be a threat.
“Does this look okay?” Effie asked, rolling the sleeves of the oversized jacket before glancing at herself in the mirror hanging near the bathroom door.
Did it look okay? She looked perfect and was wrapped up in my fucking scent, of course she looked okay. She looked goddamn edible. A groan nearly worked up my throat, thinking about how she would taste.
“Yes.” My voice was rough as I managed to form some semblance of an answer. She flashed me a small smile but then frowned, her small fingers rubbing her beanie slightly as if trying to relieve tension.
“Headache?” I asked. Immediately, I was wondering if I had any pain medicine here.
I didn’t think I did. It was pretty rare that I was in the type of pain to need any medication, let alone to just keep it on hand.
But I also was willing to let myself suffer a bit. I didn’t want Effie to suffer at all.
“It’s how I have my hair braided,” she explained quietly, offering me a small unsure look before looking back at the mirror, seeming on the edge of deciding something. I crossed the room easily, opening the bathroom door and grabbing a comb I kept there.
“You could brush out your hair,” I offered as she took the comb. I leaned against the wall and watched her as her fingers hesitated above her beanie… and then she tugged it off completely.
My eyes widened at the stunning vibrance of hair that she had hidden underneath her beanie, the longer-than-waist-length braids falling down as she began to work to undo them.
I found myself somewhat entranced by her easy movements.
I had seen long hair before… but holy shit, the woman almost had more hair than her physical body.
No, seriously, it was nearly down to her perky ass, a stunning shade of light teal blue that transitioned into a lavender near the bottom, with blue streaks hidden throughout that almost seemed to shimmer under the sunlight.
It fit her perfectly. I’m not sure what else I expected.
I exhaled softly in relief as I saw tension leave her body, her fingers finally undoing the top of the braids against her head.
She almost appeared to be glowing as a smile broke onto her face, my gaze completely caught up on the way the silky streaks of her hair surrounded her frame.
Like some celestial creature. It was literally the only way to describe it.
Goddamn it, she was so fucking stunning.
“Does my hair look okay?” Her voice was soft and nervous as she adjusted her beanie back on top of her head before buttoning up my massive jacket. Both made her hair and bright-colored shoes stand out.
Did she look okay? Was that a real question?
“You have really bright hair,” I blurted, instead of ‘Yes, you look fucking beautiful’ or ‘Your hair is perfect like you.’
Yep. This would be the exact reason why I didn’t normally talk. Fuck. I was so bad with communicating anything other than violence or dominance. I would have been embarrassed, but I was far too caught up on her reaction. One that had me feeling like I’d fucked up again.
Her eyes darkened slightly as her lips twisted. “It’s weird, right? I’ve considered dying it before…”
“No.” It was a growl, and her eyes darted back to mine in surprise. I cleared my throat. “I like it a lot.”
There we go, that was somewhat better.
“Yeah?” She flashed a hesitant smile and then nodded. “I’ll take your word for it. Everyone used to hate it back home. They didn’t believe I hadn’t dyed it.”
There was no way. That color was far too unique.
“Fuck them.” That was my solid response. I clearly needed practice.
Instead of being surprised by my reaction, her eyes widened and she let out a small laugh, covering her mouth as if surprised by herself.
I smiled and offered her a hand, which she took almost automatically.
Her tiny, literally half the size of mine, if not more, hand that had me feeling a string of anxiety as I took the opportunity to grasp it solidly.
She was so goddamn tiny. Maybe I could put her in a bubble. Didn’t they have inflatable ones? That way, no matter what, no one could touch or hurt her. I nearly nodded to myself, loving that idea, but realizing that if I ever suggested something like that shit, she would think I had lost it.
Examining the way she intertwined our fingers, my heart warmed.
This was possibly the most emotionally vulnerable and soft I’d felt in years.
My normal hardass mentality that had been fostered since I was born, training to become a vicious predator, had been turned on its head.
Now I was a goddamn teddy bear. More specifically, her teddy bear.
I led her from the room as someone made a surprised noise. I snapped my gaze up, wondering if it had to do with us holding hands or her hair. Both would be surprising to most, so I wouldn’t blame any of them.
Meeting Caedmon’s gaze momentarily before his gaze darted back to Effie, I saw his eyes widen on her hair in surprise. I was going to be pissed if he made her feel weird about her hair at all.