Before he can poke into my feelings, I continue, “Tomorrow morning, Sara and I will continue to explore my abilities.”
He frowns. “You two have already talked about this?”
I pick at a loose string on my pillow. “She thinks she can help,” is all I tell him. Secrets. My voice tells the tales of many secrets being kept, and by his silence, he’s well aware I’m not telling him something.
Thankfully, he only says, “Sara has been around for both parts of your life – the trial and failure of witchcraft as well as learning to be a skinwalker. She’s the best choice, and perhaps she already has a little plan of her own.”
I blow out a pent-up breath, grateful he’s not pressing, and grin. “She does enjoy being involved.”
“I’ve noticed.” He caresses my cheek. “You’ll tell me eventually.”
I lean into his touch and nod.
“Does it upset you to be here?”
“At first, it was weird,” I say honestly, running my fingers down his arm. “Everything looks different, but everything is the same. The last time I was here, I knew I wasn’t like everyone else, but I didn’t know what was different or the extent of that difference. And before that, I was an outcast. Now, I know who and what I am, and it makes everything look different.” I wet my lips. “No. It doesn’t upset me. I’m just trying to rearrange my reality, I think. I’ve come to terms with being different, and now I know I’m not the only skinwalker out there. . .”
“You don’t feel so hopeless,” he whispers, finishing for me.
“Exactly.”
Silence stretches over us, and we block out the footsteps in the hall as witches head to their rooms for the night. We’re content to watch one another, to listen to the other breathe, and for the first time, I feel at home in this place that once felt like hell to me. But I don’t think it has anything to do with the coven. Instead, I think it has everything to do with the man watching me watch him.
Warmth blossom’s in my chest, a warmth I’ve never felt for anyone before, and I know exactly what it is. Perhaps it’s fear heightening the emotions. Fear of the future’s unknown. Fear of Sara and my plan to warp the future in our favor. Perhaps it’s the fact so many truths were shared today and, under the light of these truths, an easy acceptance of my secrets. Perhaps it’s the way he’s touching me, watching me, peering into my very soul as if he’s a skinwalker himself.
It doesn’t matter because when I whisper, “I love you,” to him, I mean it to my core. And when he whispers it back and seals it with a heart-stopping kiss, I know he means it too.
CHAPTER TEN
Jacob Trent
The bedroom door shutting is the first thing that stirs me from my sleep, followed by the sound of birds chirping outside. The scents of an unfamiliar place and unfamiliar people surround me. My wolf stirs in panic. But then . . . then, Jinx’s lingering sweet and wild aroma hits me, and he relaxes. I breathe her in, remembering where I am and why we’re here. Remembering Jinx left briefly in the middle of the night with the excuse of needing a drink.
I stretch an arm out along the bed, and when my hand fumbles across the entire lumpy mattress without finding Jinx, I crack an eye open.
The dip in her side of the bed is still there, but she’s nowhere in the room.
You alive? I mindspeech to Cinder, rolling over for fifteen more minutes of sleep. That’s all I need. Fifteen minutes.
Did you think they’d kill me in my sleep?
I mutter an unintelligible response and drift back to sleep. For how long, I don’t know, but when a clatter sounds in the room, my eyes fly open. My vision is blurry, and I rub at my face with the heels of my palms.
Jinx is half-bent over, wincing. “Sorry,” she mutters. She places a tray on the end table next to my side of the bed. I sit up, studying the objects that were scattered about the surface, now strewn across the floor.
“Morning,” I say, voice thick with sleep.
The sight of bacon stretching across a plate wakes my stomach. Orange juice and eggs accompany it.
“Breakfast,” she whispers in a jokingly singsong voice.
I lift my gaze to her cringing expression. She’s fully dressed, showered, and her wet hair clings to the side of her face.
I swing my feet over the side of the bed. “We’re not eating with your coven?”
She shrugs and walks to her bag of belongings. “The coven doesn’t really eat as a whole. Not like shifters. They come and go as they please. Besides,” she says, bending to her backpack. “I thought this might be easier.” She pushes her arm through the bag opening and fishes around. Victorious, she yanks out a pink object – a brush – and combs her hair on her way back to me. Beads of water splat to the floor.
In the pale morning light, Jinx’s tank top clings to her top half, and her sweatpants flare around her hips. The sight is erotic, and I have a hard time not tracing the outline of her body. “You mean you didn’t want to subject me to the rest of the coven, who might have a problem with playing host for two shifters.”
“Yes,” she says, wrinkling her nose. I chuckle. She’s worried I’ll be offended just like last night when she knew that I knew she was keeping things from me.
Grabbing the glass of orange juice, I bring it to my lips, gulp down the tangy citrus, and snag a piece of bacon. I put it in my mouth, chewing slowly while watching her fidget under the heavy weight of silence. “I get it.”
She blinks at me, shoulders slowly lowering. “You do?”
“It wasn’t easy for some of the shifters when you came along.”
Sighing deeply, she sits on the edge of the bed. “I hate that everyone hates each other. At least Marian and my mom approve of you.”
I only shrug. Marian respects me, and Tabatha has no room to judge. I wouldn’t call that being fond of anyone. “Witches and shifters have come a long way in only a year. The Realms War helped, but it’ll take time for our species to trust one another after so long hating one another.”
After a twist of her lips, she snatches the next strip of bacon from my hands. She shoves the whole strip into her mouth. It’s hot as hell.
“So,” she says, completely oblivious that the way she chews – slow and sensual as if she’s enjoying each salty bite of flavor – might be my undoing. “I talked with Sara. She wants us to meet her and Cinder in the garden.”
“Us?”
She nods. “Yep. She’s meddling again.” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “Cinder went down to breakfast with her and nearly pissed his pants. She hopes if they see you two diving into witchy ways, they may accept you faster.”
“I don’t know –” I begin to protest. I remember yesterday’s blood sacrifice, and although Cinder falling on his ass was worthy of memory, I’d rather not be the target of a few laughs.
“She promised there would be no pranks,” Jinx begs.
“Mmhmm.” I pick up the plate and the balancing spoon and eat the eggs with as much etiquette as I can. Her gaze travels around her room, and I continue to watch her, study her.
I’ve never had breakfast in bed, let alone a woman kind and thoughtful enough to bring it to me. I can’t help but feel pride for this strong woman who’s stealing bits of food from my plate. And I let her. I let her take food from me, an act that would usually piss off a primal beast such as me. My wolf watches on with complete adoration, finding her scent swirling around us more taunting than the food itself. What I would give . . .