Chapter Seven
Unsurprisingly, I don’t cuddle up to Dorian through the night.
I’m not a particularly touchy-feely person when it comes to humans.
I like to keep to myself, both when I’m asleep and when I’m awake.
I awaken teetering on the very edge of the bed when my phone alarm goes off.
I pop my headphones out of my ears, return them to their case, and yawn as I sit up.
Beside me, Dorian scowls, his eyes half-lidded.
“It’s too early,” he says grumpily. “What time is it?”
He lets out a long sigh. “Fine.” He rolls out of bed, stretching his arms above his head, and squints at me through the early morning sunlight. “You didn’t touch me at all last night.”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m not big on physical contact with people.
” I shrug. “I can sense them from afar, but up close it gets much worse. Looking into someone’s eyes can be like staring into their soul, but skin to skin contact amplifies everything tenfold.
I’ve already seen all I need to in your eyes, I don’t want to overwhelm myself more. ”
“And what is it that you’ve seen?” Dorian asks, seeming more alert now.
I gaze at him. “That your morals are as dark grey as it gets, and your soul is even darker. That you’ve been hurt in the past, so you hurt people in the present.
That you,” I shake my head, “are a stone-cold killer who will not lose even a wink of sleep over taking someone’s life.
I’ve seen that you’re very dangerous, and that you don’t discriminate much when you kill. ”
I stand, offering a wan smile. “On the plus side, I have negative zero desire to sleep with you, and I’m pretty sure you’re not one to force girls—could still be wrong on that account, but I don’t think I am—which means I’m probably safe from you.
So you’re not as bad as some of the people I’ve come across. ” I yawn. “Can we go to Greywood now?”
Dorian’s brows are furrowed as he stares at me, his eyes shining with a mixture of confusion and vague discomfort. As if he doesn’t like how well I read him.
Trust me, buddy, I don’t like reading people, either.
He clears his throat. “Yeah. Breakfast, then we can go.”
A knock sounds on the door. Dorian straightens to his full height, instantly going on alert. He glances at me, motioning at the bed. “Sit there and stay.”
My brows knit. “I’m not a dog.”
“But you are currently in a house with three people you already know are dangerous. You heard more than you should, and you saw more than you should,” Dorian says, gesturing to the bed again.
I don’t want him to think I’m going to be an obedient girl he can order around; that would not be a good way to kick off my captivity.
Last night, I was scared. I’m still scared, but I’m also pretty sure that Dorian doesn’t have any interest in hurting me, and that he won’t force me to do anything sexual.
In fact, he seems unreasonably invested in protecting me.
I fold my arms over my chest. “I haven’t seen anything.”
Another knock sounds, this time accompanied by a muffled voice.
Dorian walks up to me with a sigh. My breath hitches as he grips my arms and walks me backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed.
I fall into a sitting position, bouncing on the mattress.
He leans over me, and I become acutely aware of just how much bigger he is than me, how much stronger, how easily he could break me in half if he wanted to.
But the realization isn’t accompanied by fear. It creates another feeling, something far more dangerous that sparks in my belly and begins to travel lower until it reaches my core. I swallow hard, planting my palms on the mattress and leaning back.
“You see more than you should. You might not have witnessed something that could be construed as a crime, but you have seen us. Usually, people who know as much about me and my legion as you do are considered dangerous. You’ve pinned all of us to an insane degree, which could make Connor and Seamus see you as a problem.
You’ve already heard Connor’s opinion on loose ends.
When I tell you to sit or stay, it’s not because I’m being a prick, it is because I’m thinking of how to keep you safe when you present as a threat to guys who are used to killing threats. "
That douses the warmth traveling through me, replacing it with chilling cold.
“I’m not a threat,” I assure him. “I have no evidence of anything. Even if I wanted to tell someone—which I don’t, I value my life—what would I say?
That I have a feeling?” I shake my head.
“I learned to keep shit to myself when I was a kid.”
“Good, then we won’t have any problems. Nevertheless, when I tell you to sit and stay, you should do it for your own sake. Clear?”
I nod silently. Dorian releases me, stalking over to the door. He opens it, revealing Seamus, who’s wide awake and well-dressed in a white button-up and black slacks. Seamus looks at Dorian, glances at me, and smirks. “I see you two have gotten cozy.”
“Not as much as I’d like,” Dorian says, making my cheeks scorch with a blush. “What’s up?”
“Thought our guest might like some clothes that haven’t been mauled by a feral animal.”
“The alpha’s possessive,” I inform Seamus. He gazes at me, a smile gracing his lips.
He looks back at Dorian. “Looks like your wolf might not be the only one. Anyhow, I was out to run some errands, so I stopped by to grab some clothes for you. Do you like skirts?”
I shake my head. “Impractical. I like to move and sit how I want.”
“Good thing I got options, then.” He hands a very large shopping bag to Dorian, who glances down at it with furrowed brows.
“Are you trying to buy my affection?” I ask mildly, raising my eyebrows.
Seamus snorts. “No, love. You’re not a girl whose affection can be bought, are you? I’m just being civilized, since we’ll be roommates for a bit. You play nice, we play nice, yeah?”
Sounds good to me. “Yup. I’m not high maintenance—give me music and leave me alone, and I won’t make any problems. Unless you try to keep me away from my friends.” I frown. “Is my car still parked at the mountain? I’ll need it to go see them.”
“I’ll take you to campus in a bit, you can see your roommates then,” Dorian tells me. “Seamus brought your car back this morning, didn’t he?”
Seamus smiles. “I did say errands. I also stopped by a local vet’s office and picked up some antibiotics for our sickly kitten. Already gave her the first dose.”
“How did you know about the sick kitten?” I wonder.
“Dorian texted me about it last night. Figured I’d kill three birds with one stone this morning and earn myself some brownie points with you.”
“Oh. Thank you. Back to the topic, I wasn’t referring to my human friends, I mean my wolf pack and fox skulk. Both expect me to make my rounds regularly.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Dorian says. “Thanks, Seamus. We’ll be down to breakfast in a bit.” Seamus walks away, whistling a merry tune, and Dorian closes the door.
“You guys have a kitchen, right?” I question.
“I usually home-bake treats and bring them to my furry friends. I also occasionally bring treats for my human friends, too.” Cara and Valerie love it when I cook and bake for them; skills I learned from the only positive role model I’ve ever had in my life.
“You said you’re not high maintenance,” Dorian remarks drily.
“I’m not. The animals I happen to be attached to are. And my roommates do very well when bribed with baked treats.” I tilt my head as I consider him. “I could probably win you guys over with my cookies, too. Or a home-cooked meal, which I’ll bet you don’t get often.”
Dorian appears mildly surprised. “You cook?”
“Yeah. I like cooking and baking; it’s soothing. It helps me with my anxiety, and it makes people happy, which gives me a fucking break from all the negativity everyone constantly emanates.”
Dorian blinks slowly. “Okay, I’ll see about the kitchen, food, and your pets. For now, get dressed. We’ll grab breakfast on our way to campus.”
Dorian agrees to stay in the car while I go into my dorm building. I have about half an hour before my first class, so I’ll need to be quick. When I unlock the front door to my apartment-like dorm room, I spot Cara sitting on the small living room couch, scrolling through her phone.
She looks up at my entrance, and her cinnamon-colored eyes blaze as she glares at me. “You bitch,” she says. “Where the fuck were you? Do you know how worried I’ve been?”
Cara is the extrovert of our friend group.
She is very loud, extremely animated, and a little dramatic to boot.
Born to a Brazilian model and an Italian businessman, Cara is absolutely stunning.
She’s all long limbs and grace, standing several inches taller than me.
She has black hair that’s currently swept into a bun, and the sort of breathtaking body and cleavage that leaves a line of drooling men wherever she goes.
“I sent a text,” I say.
“Oh, okay. It’s all good because you sent a text.” She scoffs. “Mira, your text said, and I quote, shit went down, I’m alright, I’ll see you tomorrow. Then you didn’t respond to my five texts!”
“You sent those five texts in the ten minutes you’ve been awake,” I point out calmly. I received them on my way here.
“Chill out, Car,” Valerie says, strolling out of her room with her backpack slung over her shoulder. She looks me over with ice-blue eyes, eyebrows raising. “New clothes?”
I glance down at the crème blouse and dark jeans I wear. Seamus has good style. “Yeah.”
“What happened?” Valerie queries, heading over to our small kitchenette and pouring herself a cup of coffee from the ancient coffee machine.
“Why the fuck weren’t you here when we woke up?” Cara demands.