by P. Jameson
No, he had to show her his value first. He had to convince her to love him. Show her he was the better choice. The female will choose the mate best for her. And she’d already chosen him once. He had to believe it would work the way it was supposed to.
He shook his head and continued on to his cabin, letting her hand in his anchor him as they went the rest of the trek in silence.
Climbing the steps to his cabin, he pushed the door open and held it for Mirena to walk through. She stopped just inside, turning to take in his place. He’d been fixing it up. It wasn’t the elaborate cave his brother had prepared for Nastia, but it was safe and cozy and he’d added a few pretty things for her.
Like the flowers that sat in a vase on the small wooden dining table. And the fluffy throw blankets he’d left folded on the edge of the couch. He knew she liked old fashioned things so he’d found a vintage French headboard at an antique shop in the neighboring town of Weston. In the bathroom, he’d left a variety of scented soaps and oils for her to decide on. And one of those big poufy bath sponges.
It was a work in progress. She wasn’t supposed to see it yet, but now she was here and he hoped it would be enough.
Slowly, she walked to the table and gently fingered the petals of a flower.
Theron shut the door behind him, narrowly resisting the urge to lock them in.
“These for me?” she asked quietly.
He swallowed, trying to form an answer, but nothing came. Why were all her questions so hard?
He hurried into the bedroom, digging through one of the drawers he’d saved for her. He’d bought a few items, and he gave himself a pat on the back for the forethought, because the clothes were going to come in handy right now.
Choosing a soft blue shirt, he held it up. Yes, this would work. Mirena wore long sleeves even in the summer. She and her coven sisters believed in dressing modestly. Which obviously made the thought of undressing her even more alluring.
Digging around in a different drawer, he came out with a pair of his sweatpants. They’d be too big on her, but they had a drawstring. And bulky material would cover her body, so she’d be comfortable.
He wanted her comfortable for what was coming.
Passing through the kitchen/living area, he avoided his mate’s gaze and headed for the bathroom. He set the clothes carefully on the counter and started warming the water in the shower.
When he turned, he found Mirena standing in the bathroom doorway, watching him.
“Some dry clothes,” he murmured, nodding at the counter. “Warm water.”
He could barely look at her even though that was all he really wanted to do. Just stare at her until things felt okay inside again.
“Thank you,” she whispered, forcing his gaze to her with her soft tone.
Her eyes were searching his, looking for answers to why he wasn’t himself. But he had none. He wasn’t ready to tell her about the hurts of his childhood. Maybe he wouldn’t ever be.
Because the Mother Bear’s reading still haunted him. This morning he’d been sure he could make Mirena happy. Now, he wondered if there was a chance the reading would come true.
Theron walked over to her. Reaching forward, he let his fingertips brush the soft skin of her cheek. His hand still trembled with his tangled emotions so he kept the contact short. Just a taste to calm his animal.
“You’re welcome,” he murmured. “Now warm up.”
She nodded, pressing her lips together. He wanted to kiss them back open.
“When you get out, I won’t be so growly,” he promised.
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t mind growly so much. You don’t frighten me.”
So she liked everyone to think. She was brave, but bravery didn’t mean she was fearless.
He lifted his hand for another brush to her cheek.
“Get warm, mate. Then we’ll talk.”
Theron slipped past her and closed the door to the bathroom. He leaned against it, breathing deep until the shower door creaked open. He had approximately twenty minutes to calm down and get his shit together.
Twenty minutes, and he knew exactly what to do with them.
***
Mirena stood in the small but neatly organized bathroom. It wasn’t grand, but the tile work was pretty and clean, the place was functional, and then there was this. The array of soaps and oils spread out on the counter. Each tablet or bottle was lined up neatly, label facing front, equal distance away from the one beside it. There was a fresh toothbrush, still in the wrapper. A hairbrush. A body sponge. All of it arranged with such obvious care, it made her heart do a reckless leap.
He'd done this for her. He’d readied his home for her.
Her eyes drifted over to the towel rack. A pale pink one hung there next to a gray one. It was fluffy and new. Reaching for it, she brushed her hand along the soft terry surface. It had been folded perfectly with three creases.
Tears pricked her eyes.
She could only guess at what was happening outside the bathroom door, but one thing was eating her alive. Theo still held that hurt look in his eyes. She wanted her playful bear back. The one that told jokes when she was worried about the future. The one that made her giggle when it seemed like things were hopeless.
That bear had seemed like he didn’t take much serious. This bear who prepared his home for her was nothing but serious.
She would do what he said. Shower and then talk to him. Get to the bottom of what was bothering him.
Mirena made quick work of the button-down flannel and peeled away her soaked dress before removing her sandals. She piled everything in the corner and took the pins out of her hair so that the dark waist length locks hung down her back. Testing several of the bottles Theo had left for her, she picked a shampoo that was labeled Strawberry Champagne, and found the matching bar of soap. It was pink. Her favorite color.
In the mirror, her eyes caught on the circular scar that took up most of her lower abdomen.
She’d taken Nastia’s dark power directly in the stomach. It had spread from there, festering within minutes and forming a singed black web of skin. Using the power she obtained from the darkness, the black night that swam between the mystics, Nastia had drawn out the supernatural poison that felt like acid as it snaked through Mirena’s body. In effect, healed her even though dark magic couldn’t be used to heal. It could be called a miracle perhaps.
But what remained…
Carefully, she prodded at the gnarled web. It was bigger than her palm, stretching from one hip bone to past her center. It was still discolored pink from healing, though it only hurt in her memory. She’d wear this reminder forever. And when she saw it, she could recall the pain as if the poisonous burn was still there.
Mirena closed her eyes, shivering at the memories of that dangerous night. She hadn’t been afraid even then, with the dark magic burning her up. The only tinge of fear had come when it looked like Theron was going to be hurt. And once again when she helped Adira cast the undead spell on Nastia.
Shaking her shoulders to loosen the hold of the past weeks, she stepped into the shower. The water was perfectly hot, and she let it wash away the rest of her cares. For these few minutes she was going to forget all the stress waiting for her outside. The future darkness that was looming over her. The pain she was causing Theo. All of it. When the water shut off, she’d figure things out. Until then, it was clear her head time.
Using the soap and the sponge Theo had bought, she lathered up, starting at her shoulders.
A tune she’d heard around the lodge came to mind and she started humming it, loving the way the sound bounced off the tile walls of the shower. It was a soft, flowing melody that she didn’t know the words to, but had come to love. She imagined it was a story. One that started off sad. Sullen. The middle was triumphant, an overcoming of great obstacles. And the end was a happily ever after.
It was a love story she decided.
But maybe that was just because it was a s
ong she’d heard Theo play on his piano in the lobby. He only played when he thought no one was around. Sometimes he was clumsy at it, giving her the impression he was just learning his way around the instrument, but it was still a pretty song. The clunky missteps gave the tune character.
She hummed louder, counting on the water to muffle the sound enough that it wasn’t heard outside the bathroom.
As she lathered her hair with the sweet smelling shampoo, she became lost in her task. By the time she was finished, the water had gone cold and her mind was clear.
Stepping out of the shower, she pulled the fluffy pink towel off the rack and used it to dry her body before tucking it around her hair. She dressed in the clothes Theo had left on the counter. There were no undergarments, but the items were modest. And besides, she felt comfortable enough with Theo to let herself go a little.
A faint sound drifted past the closed door. Something soft and melodious. Like the strum of a guitar. And then a voice. So quiet. Like she wasn’t supposed to hear it.
Mirena tiptoed closer to the door, leaning near the polished wood to hear through it.
The strumming was slow and unsure. The barely spoken lyrics were staggered between awkward chords. She waited, hanging on every new word or tune. He was working something out, and she wanted to hear the fruits of his labor. As the minutes ticked by, the strumming got smoother, the words coming quicker and less stuttered, until he played an entire chorus.
A smile grew on Mirena’s face. It was her song. The one she’d been humming in the shower. Theron was learning it on the guitar as well. How wonderful.
Pulling the towel off her head, she finger combed her damp hair before sliding open the door.
Theo sat on the edge of the plush leather couch, brow furrowed in concentration as he continued picking at the strings to make music. His thick fingers stumbled over the neck, pressing the wrong combo and forming a bad chord.
Mirena was too busy watching him and didn’t notice the end table, knocking it with her knee.
Theron’s head jerked up, surprised, and his face turned red with a blush. Quickly, he set the guitar aside, standing to face her. He still hadn’t put a shirt on, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable without it. As if it was natural for him to walk around showing off all those rippling muscles.
“Sorry,” Mirena rushed out, trying not to drool. “Didn’t meant to scare you. I was just listening…”
His blush deepened and he looked troubled. “It’s not really for people to hear. I’m just learning. It’s… rough.”
It’s beautiful, she wanted to say. It wasn’t the perfect melody, but it was wonderful. There was something special about learning a new craft. The discipline, the missteps that result in learning. It was the same with magic. Learning a new spell took patience and dedication. But the result was always satisfying. Over time, Mirena had learned to see the beauty in the process.
“Do you practice often?” she asked instead.
Theron nodded. “Everyday. It calms me. Gives my head and my bear a break.”
She smiled. “Then you’ll only get better.”
He eyed her, his shoulders relaxing, the creases around his eyes easing. “And something about that makes you smile.”
“Of course. It means one day you’ll perfect your song, and when you do, I’ll expect you to play it for me.”
She turned for the kitchen. They needed milkshakes. Mostly because she needed something to do with her hands, but also because milkshakes were comforting. They both needed that right now.
“What if I don’t want to play it for you?” Theo challenged, and her witchy heart picked up speed.
She glanced over her shoulder to find his arms crossed, a taunting expression on his face. Playful Theo.
Grinning, she said, “I dare you.”
Pulling the fridge open, she searched for the ingredients she needed. Milk, chocolate syrup… but no ice cream.
A smile crept up her cheeks. She had the perfect solution. Being a Sorcera wasn’t all drama and dread. It had its perks. And she was going to make a milkshake with them.
Chapter Five
Theron watched his mate as she rummaged through the fridge, pulling out ingredients, before moving to the cabinets. She gathered a mixing bowl and a whisk, frowning as she opened one cabinet and then another.
“Sugar?” she asked.
“On the left. Second shelf.”
He settled his hip against the counter and took in the sight as she reached high for it. She looked damn good in his pants. They rode low on her hips and the shirt he’d picked out was baggy so it came up when she stretched, not quite showing skin, but giving him the implication that it was only a millimeter from being exposed.
And god, her hair. It was longer than he realized. Jet black because it was wet, and framing her face where little tendrils had begun to dry. He could imagine how it would look all spread out on the sheets of his bed as she lay beneath him. As she tossed her head back and forth in pleasure. Pleasure he gave her.
And like that, he was rock hard for her. If she turned around now, she’d notice his raging boner but he didn’t exactly care.
He’d worked a few things out while practicing the guitar.
He was going to be honest. He wasn’t going to hide. He’d planned on going slow, but there’d be none of that now. He had to secure her affection before it was too late. But more importantly, he had to anchor her to her light before the darkness found her.
He was going balls to the wall and if he ended up fucked by a light socket, well then, at least he’d tried.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She grinned over her shoulder at him, and he pretty much wanted to fall at her feet and worship. No one had a prettier smile than his mate.
“Making you something,” she said coyly, and continued collecting items.
“A witch’s brew?” he mused.
She paused, raising an eyebrow. “I suppose you could call it that. I prefer to call it a milkshake.”
He liked the way she moved around his kitchen, the way she made herself at home in his space. She acted like she belonged there, and it satisfied his bear immensely.
Curious, he moved closer so he could watch her work.
In a bowl, she mixed milk with the sugar, and rooted around his liquor stash for some vanilla vodka, adding a couple splashes. With the whisk, she stirred, her arm going ninety to nothing, whipping the milk concoction into a frenzy.
Theron’s gaze zeroed in on her chest and his mouth went Sahara dry. Fuck, yes. She could mix her witchy concoctions in his kitchen any day of the week. Especially if she was doing it in a loose shirt without a bra on. Because… talk about milkshake.
He couldn’t pull his eyes away. Her tits swayed and bounced with each quick stir of the bowl. He was enraptured. He didn’t want to blink. It was like watching a waterfall as it poured over rocks and formed mist. Damn near fucking magical.
Mirena gasped, the stirring stopped, and Theron was finally able to look away. When he found her face, her eyes were big with surprise, her jaw popped wide.
She’d caught him looking.
But he wasn’t going to be polite now. They were in the mate. They had work to do.
He crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest, daring her to call him out.
“Were you staring at my… my…”
“Tits? Yes, Rena. You have perfectly jiggly tits. And I’d be an idiot to look away.”
Her eyes went impossibly wider. “I was going to say chest. Not… not…”
“Tits?” He fought a smirk. “Say tits, mate,” he urged.
“No!” she cried, but her face was a mix of shock and humor. She wanted to laugh, he could tell.
“Tiiiitttssss,” he drawled out. “It isn’t hard, see. Tits. Tits, tits, tits. Say it. Say ‘I have nice tits’. I dare you.”
Her mouth twisted in a playful smirk before she announced clearly, “You have nice tits.”
His head jerked back a
t her words, and then a laugh burst from his throat. More came with it until he was doubled over and tears leaked from his eyes.
It felt so good, he couldn’t stop. Theo chuckled often. Mostly at his own sarcasm or the dumb jokes he told to keep people from being too serious. But he couldn’t remember the last time it had been a genuine, from the gut, can’t catch your breath laugh.
Wiping the wetness from his eyes, he found her staring at him, looking completely satisfied with herself. Crafty little mate. She’d walked him right into that one.
“Thanks,” he said, bouncing his pecs and drawing a giggle from her. “I’ve been working on them.”
Mirena tossed her head back, her laughter filling the kitchen.
Damn, he lived for that sound. Making her happy was his favorite thing to do, and he’d been working at it ever since they’d met. Making her sad and worried like he had earlier, wasn’t right. It made him feel all wrong.
Plugging in the blender, she went back to work, adding milk to it as well, and a hefty squirt of chocolate syrup. Then she returned to the bowl with the milk concoction, ignoring the whisk this time.
Hands hovering above the rim, she began quietly chanting words he didn’t understand. As she repeated the verse over and over, she swirled her hands in a circle. Slow at first and then gaining speed the more she chanted.
Theron watched in amazement as the milk swished and swirled.
Minutes passed while the storm in the mixing bowl raged and Mirena’s chanting became louder. Until the mixture began to firm up. Thick and white and creamy.
Ice cream. She was using a spell to make ice cream.
Theo let off a surprised laugh. She was amazing. He’d seen her take down beasts. Full grown shifters who were angry and warring. But somehow, this simple spell to freeze liquid had him baffled.
It was the simplicity of it. He could see her in the kitchen with their little ones, whipping up a batch of ice cream just like this, while they laughed on in wonder.
The chanting ceased and she lowered her hands, a blazing smile on her lips.
