Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
Ididn’t sleep. Well, not much anyway.
Every now and then, my eyelids would slip down, and when they rose again, I’d find that the shadows had journeyed a little farther across the wall.
But mostly all I did was lie there in the alpha’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t tame the tornado of thoughts tearing a trail of destruction through my head.
I’d never been the type to believe in destiny. I was a free will girl all the way. My mind, my decisions, my emotions—they were mine and mine alone. I was the one in control of my life, not anyone else.
And sure as hell not some trio of make-believe ancient goddesses.
But that was before I’d found myself in the middle of a primal wilderness as the guest of a giant man with hidden claws while wearing the outfit I dreamed about dying in.
Every now and again, I would hear the sounds of steps or other signs of life outside the window. The crack of chopping wood, the pop of a fire, the clink of metal on metal—little reminders that, true to his word, Tauren was out there and staying close.
Like a prison guard, making sure I never had a chance to bolt.
Though now that I knew the details of his dream, I doubt that was how he saw the situation. He was probably out there pacing, waiting for the moment I was healthy enough to pound like a jackhammer.
But if that was the case, then he’d be waiting forever.
I’d break my ribs all over again before I’d let him on top of me.
Or would I?
As much as I wanted to be repulsed by the thought of wrapping my legs around Tauren’s hard body and riding him like a thoroughbred, I couldn’t seem to muster up any real disgust. There were no cold shivers or sinking feelings in my belly.
In fact, the one sensation the idea did elicit was distinctly warm and tingly.
Not that I was about to admit that to anyone.
Not even myself.
It was just a side effect of the medicine I rationalized—the boneset tea and the herbs along my side. Maybe I had a fever. That would explain this strange heat inside me. And all these bizarre desires and fantasies that I’d never experienced before.
After being left to stew in my thoughts for far too long, the door of the cabin finally opened again.
As soon as I heard the hinges creak, I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep, but I shouldn’t have bothered.
“You can sit up, Hannah,” Tauren said the moment the door closed. “I know you’re awake.”
Damn. I pushed myself up on the mattress. “How?”
“Your breathing changes,” he said. “It’s softer when you’re asleep. Less tense.”
I could work on that…maybe even get good enough to fool him. That would make escape a lot easier.
“I brought you more tea,” he said, handing over a steaming earthenware mug, and I found myself admiring the vibrantly colored floral design painted on the side.
“It’s pretty,” I mused.
I must have sounded surprised because the corners of Tauren’s mouth pulled down slightly.
“The ferus aren’t cavemen,” he said. “We have craftsmen and artists, just like the kirre.”
“I didn’t mean any offense.”
He looked skeptical, but didn’t press the issue. “I also brought you some food.”
Funny. I hadn’t thought about eating once today, but as soon as I saw the plate he placed on the small table, my stomach started grumbling.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, ready to gingerly slide myself down onto the floor, but before I could start, Tauren was already in front of me, wrapping his hands around my waist and lifting me up.
It was a strange sensation, being picked up and hauled around like I didn’t weigh a thing. Sure, I wasn’t that big, but I wasn’t small either.
At least not for someone from my side of the Wall.
Tauren set me down in one of the chairs at the table, in front of a platter piled high with more food than I ate in a whole day. Instantly, I was hit with the scent of roasted meat and vegetables. A chunk of crusty bread sat on the rim of the pottery plate, with the same style and design as my mug.
The only thing I didn’t see was cutlery. Apparently, the ferus didn’t bother with forks and knives with a simple meal like this.
“Thank you.”
“No thanks needed,” Tauren said, resuming his usual cross-armed stance by the door. “I’ve already told you my job is to take care of you.”
I grabbed the bread and nibbled at the delicious, chewy crumb inside. “I wish you’d stop saying that.”
His brows pulled together. “Why? It’s the truth.”
And maybe it was, but that didn’t change the fact that hearing it made me uncomfortable as hell.
“Where I come from, nobody says that.”
Especially not guys. According to most of my friends in long-term relationships, the best you could hope for was a half-hearted “love you, babe” a couple of times a day.
“But you’re not in the kirre world anymore,” he reminded me. “You’re in the Wilds now, and here we take care of our own.”
Our own.
There was that warm sensation blossoming in the center of my chest again.
I hadn’t been anyone’s in a very long time.
Growing up, it had just been Mom and me. Dad had ditched us early, divorcing Mom and starting a new family with his substantially younger secretary. Every year, I’d get a card from him on my birthday (signature only, no handwritten message inside) and a generic present for Christmas.
Cancer had taken root in Mom when I’d first started college, and while she fought like hell, it ended up taking her away from me a few weeks before graduation.
My life wasn’t a complete sob story, though. I still had plenty of friends and a few far-flung aunts, uncles, and cousins, but no one who truly felt like family. Not like it had been with Mom.
But my past wasn’t any of Tauren’s business.
“I just don’t want you getting your hopes up that I’ll be sticking around very long,” I told him.
“Why? You planning on running away?” He didn’t come right out and laugh at the idea, but I could still hear the note of amusement in his voice.
Best not to answer that one.
“You’re forgetting about my dream,” I said. “The one where I’m hunted down and killed.”
His face went hard. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Really? You seemed pretty convinced about the infallibility of these dreams when you were telling me about yours.” I shrugged and took another nibble of bread. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky, and both of our visions will be wrong.”
Tauren’s frown deepened, but at least he didn’t try to argue the point with me. Instead, he directed his frustration at my untouched plate.
“You don’t like the food?”
“No, it looks great.” And that was absolutely the truth. “But it’s rude to eat in front of someone.”
His chest rumbled, and an exasperated sound filled the room. “So many rules. Kirre life sounds exhausting.”
I nearly choked on the laugh that burst out of my throat. “You’re not wrong,” I admitted.
“Are you telling me to leave?”
Now that would be rude. And even though he’d already reminded me that I wasn’t bound to the conventions of the civilized world anymore, some manners were too deeply ingrained to be forgotten.
“Or you could join me,” I offered. “I’m happy to share. Seriously, there’s more food here than I can eat, and I’d hate for it to go to waste.”
It wasn’t just being polite. I figured the more I knew about the alpha, the easier it would be to come up with an escape plan.
His eyes narrowed as he pushed off the wall. “Do you really eat so little?”
“It only seems like a little in comparison to a ferus,” I said. “Remember, I’m about half your size.”
“You don’t have to remind me,” he said, pulling out the chair next to me. “Over the years, I’ve memorized every inch of your body.”
Heat rushed to my face, and I tried to hide my embarrassment by popping a roasted carrot in my mouth and ducking my head down while I chewed it.
I should have known that wouldn’t work.
“I’ve embarrassed you,” Tauren said, ripping the browned leg of the chicken-like bird between us. It only took him one bite to remove nearly all the meat from the bone.
“No, it’s just…”
I had no idea how to finish that thought without becoming even more self-conscious.
“Kirre don’t talk about sex,” he tried to finish for me.
But that wasn’t quite right.
“No, we do,” I said. “At least most of us do. I’m just unusual because I’ve never been very interested in the subject.”
Tauren didn’t look surprised. He didn’t even blink.
“Of course not,” he said far too casually. “You’ve been waiting for me.”
There was nothing stifled about my laugh this time. I had a feeling it was loud enough to carry up to the top of the redwoods outside.
“Oh my God, Tauren. That has to be the most arrogant thing I’ve ever heard someone say.”
“It’s not arrogance,” he assured me. “It’s the simple truth. The moment the Fates bound us together, we lost all desire for others. That’s how it is for all ferus.”
“But I’m not ferus.”
Funny that I had to keep reminding the actual ferus of that.
“But you are bonded to one.” Tauren shrugged while pulling off the second bird leg. “You have our dreams. You share our fate. You feel our impulses. It’s as if you are becoming one of us.”
I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that. I already knew who I was, and I wasn’t looking to become something else.
“I’m happy being just plain human—I mean kirre.”
“Maybe your mind is,” he said. “But your body is enjoying the change. Haven’t you wondered why you’re healing so quickly from your injuries?”
“I figured it was Calindra’s herbs and teas.”
“Those are ferus medicines,” he said. “So far as I know, your kind has never achieved much success with them.”
I tore a strip of meat off the breast and chewed it slowly, giving myself time to think.
I was recovering fast. There was no doubt about it. Too fast for someone who’d been hit by a car and bashed into a concrete wall just a day ago.