Seeing Eye Mate

by Annmarie McKenna

  “Do you mind?” she cried, spitting into the toilet.

  “Nope.” He wet a washcloth with cool water and filled a glass, then plunked himself on the floor next to her, willing to be there for her whether she wanted him to or not.

  Tieran yanked the washcloth out of his hands and wiped her face with it. She took the water from him and guzzled it down like a lifeline to a desert survivor. Defeated and weak, she dropped the glass to the ground with a clunk. Caelan was surprised it didn’t shatter, but she seemed unfazed.

  “Better?” He caressed her shoulder with his lips and rubbed her lower back.

  She nodded but he heard the small sob break free. “Why do you have to be so nice?”

  He was shocked. Why wouldn’t he be? She was his mate, his other half. Hadn’t he already told her it was his job to make sure she was happy?

  He sighed. “I hate to say this, but you might be like this every morning for a while. Something about our DNA makes the human mothers of our children ill.”

  Tieran glared at the ceiling and sucked in a breath, holding it for more than he was comfortable with. He waited for her to deal but wasn’t prepared for what came out of her mouth.

  “Dear God, why? Why are you doing this to me? Is there one man out there you haven’t made stupid?” A second wave of vomit erupted from her throat.

  What the hell, he thought, stunned beyond doing anything but watch his mate throw up again. She sat back and wiped her face with the washcloth. “I’m not stupid,” he mumbled. Jesus. He scrubbed a hand over his face. He sounded like a pouting five-year-old.

  “Peter also accused me of being pregnant. Imagine being accused of the same thing by two different men!” She laughed. “One day. I’ve been with you for one day. Okay, one night too, but not feasibly long enough to be showing signs of pregnancy this morning!”

  An eyebrow raised, he twisted to refill the water and handed it to her so she could wash her mouth out. She squeezed her eyes shut and her cheeks puffed out. Apparently her stomach still wasn’t happy.

  She cocked her head, working something out in her brain. “How did you get the sink fixed?”

  He smiled. “Worked on it while you were out cold this morning.” He shrugged. “Wasn’t a big deal. The faucet was loose I guess.” His smile faded. Tieran’s cheeks puffed out and a green tinge took over.

  “Christ, baby, I can’t stand to see you like this.”

  “Then leave, goddamn it!” she spat out.

  She was the most stubborn… He leaned into her shoulder and spoke in her ear. “When are you gonna get it through that thick skull of yours I’m not leaving?”

  She turned on him so quickly she nearly took out his nose with her forehead. “Maybe when you stop saying such asinine things.” He jerked his head back. “Women don’t suddenly become ill the second they conceive, if they’ve conceived in the first place, which, thank God, shouldn’t happen with us since I’m not at the right time of month for something like that.”

  Caelan snorted and folded his arms across his chest, a smug smile on his face.

  “I got news for you, toots, you’re carrying my child, I can smell it on you. I could yesterday. Hell Eli could. And when you meet the elders of my pack later today, they will too. You can’t hide something like this from a wolf, baby. It’s all out there in the open.” He flicked his fingers like he was counting. “Fear, joy, anxiousness, mate status, conception. Get used to it,” he growled.

  She sat there, stunned. “What are you saying, Caelan?” she whispered.

  Before he could formulate an answer, Tieran shouted into the air, “Oh, stay out of this, Gramama.”

  Great. That’s all he needed was for her grandmother to be here with them.

  “I’m saying, my own,” he said softly, “that you are carrying my child. You have been since the first time we made love.”

  Her hands clenched and she looked as though she wanted to punch him.

  He watched her indignation flare. “Just how long were you going to wait to tell me this, Caelan?”

  He pulled her between his spread legs, draping her knees over his thighs until his hardening cock pressed against her pussy. She gave in with little resistance.

  “Soon, baby. When you’d at least gotten the chance to accept being my mate before I threw in, ‘oh and by the way, how do you feel about being a mother?’” His lips brushed her forehead as he spoke against it.

  Tieran buried her head in the crook of his neck. He loved the feel of her in his arms. A tiny spark jumped in his heart when she cradled her tummy with both hands.

  “Are you sure?” she murmured.

  Caelan chuckled against her hair. “Yes, my own, I am definitely sure. Your scent is positively ripe with conception.” He covered her hands with his own.

  He was sure she had a thousand questions but she didn’t utter even one.

  He lifted her head with his finger under her chin and kissed her nose. “I love you. I will answer all your questions, but not now.”

  “How? How can you love me when you don’t know anything about me?”

  “I’ll be the first to admit, I don’t know how it works. It has something to do with the mating, swapping DNA, marking you.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I can feel you in my soul, and when we’re apart, you’ll feel it too.”

  He hugged her close then pulled her head back to look into her eyes.

  “We’ll get through this together.” He helped her stand, steadied her when her wobbly knees wanted to give out and patted her butt. “Take a shower. We can talk over breakfast. Oh, and brush your teeth. I haven’t had a good-morning kiss.”

  He walked out, laughing and dodging the washrag she threw at him with a furious look and an even angrier curse.

  “I wouldn’t kiss you now for all the money in the world,” she shouted and slammed the door.

  He could still hear her as he walked to the kitchen, his heart a little bit lighter now that she knew about their baby.

  * * *

  “What the hell happened, E?”

  Tieran stopped outside the kitchen entrance. Caelan was staring out the window, talking on his cell phone. He grumbled something unintelligible and raked his fingers through his hair. It was shining wet, suggesting he had taken his own shower while she’d been taking hers.

  “So it just fucking died on you? Why didn’t you use your cell, call for someone?”

  Tieran’s breath caught in a tight ball in her throat. She closed her eyes against the wave of anxiety that threatened to swallow her whole. After dropping his little pregnancy bombshell, she hadn’t been able to think about anything else. Even the vision had eluded her. Until now. She’d told Caelan what she’d seen and now he was hearing it straight from the wolf’s mouth, so to speak. Now maybe he’d believe her.

  Caelan grunted and took on what could only be described as an annoyed stance. He shifted his weight to one foot and propped his hand on a hip, all the while shaking his head. He was either pissed off again, or agitated. She couldn’t tell from where she stood behind him.

  “Well, did he call this morning, try to make some contact, or did we lose him altogether?”

  He turned, giving her a feeling he’d sensed her standing there. His eyes smoldered under half-hooded lids as he raked her figure from head to toe. Cheeks superheated, she lifted an eyebrow when he finally met her gaze. He waved her into the kitchen, moving toward her at the same time. It was all she could do not to slap him.

  “You got damn lucky then, that he still wants to see us. I sure the hell wouldn’t,” he pronounced, pulling out a chair and lowering her onto it with a tug on her wrist.

  What’s next, she thought, a bib? How could he be so calm? His brother had just said his car broke down, just like in her vision and Caelan acted as if it were no big deal.

  “Perhaps what you saw was no big deal, Tulla. After all, you only saw a man whose car died on the road. Happens all the time. And he didn’t kill anyone.”

  “No, but h
e thought about a woman,” Tieran said, even as doubts flooded her mind.

  “You’re right,” her gramama agreed. “He thought about one. But at no time did he think about hurting her. She was just there, in his head. You cannot condemn a man for thinking about a woman. That’s pretty much all they have on the brains. Big and little.”

  Crapola. Was her gramama right? Was she reading too much into this particular vision? Seeing trouble where there wasn’t any?

  The stack of pancakes was back—a new one, thank God—passing in front of her face along with a monstrous plate of sausage and bacon. Where the meat came from, she had no idea because she didn’t keep them on hand and they had not been in her basket last night. Her stomach rumbled loud enough to make Caelan look over at her in surprise, a smug smile splitting his lips.

  Bastard.

  She didn’t eat breakfast, ever. If she did it was a Mountain Dew and something snacky. And speaking of Mountain Dew… She stood, scraping her chair on the linoleum in an irritating fashion just to irk him, and headed for the refrigerator. Caelan stopped her as she reached for the handle and thrust a tall glass of orange juice in her hand. She stared at him, gagging on the smell alone and wondering where the vile stuff had come from because it was the last thing she’d have in her house.

  He smiled, tipped her mouth closed with his forefinger and turned her back to the table, patting her butt to get her marching. The phone never left his ear as he listened to his brother on the other end.

  Infuriating bastard!

  “He’s only trying to do what’s best for you, Tulla.”

  “He doesn’t have any damned idea what’s best for me, Gramama. I’ve only known him for a day and a half, if that. And disgusting orange juice does not constitute what’s good for me.” “Like you need reminding of that fact,” she mumbled.

  Aggravated, she slammed the juice down on the table, sloshing the liquid on her skin. Gross. She hated OJ. She hated oranges. And tangerines, and tangelos, and hell, she hated orange Jell-O. Who the hell was he to think he could tell her what to drink?

  “Do you need any help picking up the ‘Stang?” she heard him say and she whipped around to face him.

  A ‘Stang. Short for Mustang. The word hit her hard and the black car swam into view. A tidbit floated back to her. The man had said something about his Mustang never letting him down before. Then it had been Eli. But who was the woman? And more importantly, was she in danger?

  “Don’t say a word,” he mouthed, pointing at her. Caelan covered the mouthpiece. “I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

  She stood there openmouthed as he turned around and continued his conversation.

  The cool stickiness on her hand dragged her back. Tieran stomped back over to the fridge, wiping her hand on her jeans to remove the vile substance. She’d get her own drink, thank you very much, and yanked the door open. She could almost hear the angels sing as a heavenly light beamed behind her stash, illuminating them like a halo. Sweet nectar of the gods.

  Hmph.

  Caelan’s hip brushed hers when he slid next to her at the open door. He crossed his arms and gave her an annoyed look. She shrugged and mouthed, “Fuck you.” Two could play this game. How many times did she have to tell him she was not a child, damn it.

  With a flare of his nostrils, he growled. She heard Eli say, “What the hell was that for? I told you I’m meeting him tonight.” Tieran wasted no time removing herself from Caelan’s reach and settling back at the table to the twenty pounds of food in front of her. The can’s top popped with a hiss. She tilted it to her lips and guzzled a good portion before coming up for air.

  Aahh. Blew orange juice out of the water any day.

  “It wasn’t directed at you,” he sighed, still staring at her like he wanted to wring her neck. “You going today?”

  Tieran wondered where he was going. Earlier he’d mentioned to her that she’d be meeting some elderly people but God only knew when that was. She could barely remember anything the way they fucked non-stop.

  “So I’ll meet you there. Why don’t you bring Nikki,” he said, grinning.

  Tieran jumped at the sudden rough bark of laughter.

  “I’m just kidding, E.” Caelan paused and glanced at her with a twinkle in his eye. “No don’t tell them about her. I need to be the one to do it, although they’ll probably smell her on you since you were in the house last night.”

  Smell who? Not me. She glared at Caelan. He returned her look with one filled with intense heat.

  Her pussy flooded. Unbelievable. Would this happen every time he looked at her? Tieran averted her gaze to stare at her pancakes. There was no way she could swallow even one bite around the sudden lump in her throat or the quiver in her belly.

  The cell phone snapped shut, startling her.

  “Do you plan on ingesting those pancakes through osmosis?”

  “I told you, I don’t eat breakfast,” she grumbled in a tone that was whiny even to her own ears.

  “And I’m telling you, the protein is good for a human mother carrying a shifter’s child.”

  Jesus. Again with the good-for-her crap. Tieran slumped over and thumped her forehead on the table. “When I want a man’s advice on what’s good for a woman, I’ll let you know.” Damn but he could turn her into a brat like no one else. She hated feeling like she no longer had control over her life. This was payback for having walked into the blasted country bar the other night when her instincts had shouted at her to stay out.

  “Stop bitching, Tulla, and eat the meal the man prepared for you. I’ve seen you chow down with the best of ‘em, why are you being so prickly now?”

  Tieran grimaced. “Stop bitching, stop bitching.” If she really were pregnant with some werewolf baby, it sure the hell was way worse than PMS. That explanation was the only one she could come up with as a reason for her attitude.

  Caelan pulled out the chair next to her, plunking the St. Louis Post Dispatch down on the table in front of him.

  “Hey, why aren’t you eating, Mr. It’s Good For You?” Shit! She was going to glue her lips together. Nothing coming out of her mouth today was normal.

  “I already ate,” he said, ignoring her barb. “While you were taking a shower.”

  She groaned and rolled her head on the table so her heated cheek rested on the cool Formica. “Where did you get all this stuff anyway? I know I didn’t have any of it.”

  “What stuff?” he asked, sounding deliberately obtuse.

  “Don’t play ignorant with me. The sausage, the orange juice.” She shivered. The stuff was absolutely horrid.

  “Your neighbor.” His gaze never strayed from the paper. “I went out to get this and she was out there too. I believe she heard me grumbling about your lack of breakfast supplies. She offered me some from her rather impressive stash.”

  How busy he’d been, Tieran thought. Cleaning the messes in every corner of her house, fixing faucets, cooking breakfast, borrowing from her neighbors. What had she been doing? Apparently taking the world’s longest shower.

  “She thinks you’re certifiable, by the way.” He lifted his cup of coffee to his mouth and sipped.

  Tieran jerked upright. “That batty old woman next door thinks I’m crazy? She waters her rocks!”

  Caelan smiled and finally turned toward her. “Calm down, Tieran. I’m kidding. I just love it when you get so riled up.” He leaned over and brushed his lips against her ear. “Makes me hot,” he whispered, sending shivers down her arms.

  She snorted. “Everything makes you hot.” Picking up her fork, she stabbed the stack of pancakes that were quickly turning to a syrupy mush and took a bite.

  Oh, my God, they were good. Buttermilk with a touch of cinnamon, buttery, syrupy. Yum. She cut into them again and eagerly shoveled another forkful into her mouth. She’d never had pancakes this good.

  “I beg your pardon.”

  Tieran could almost envision her grandmother standing with her hands on her hips, and smiled.


  “You can beg all you want, these are the bomb.”

  With uncharacteristic voraciousness, Tieran grabbed a sausage, something else she never much cared for, and dug into it. The spicy flavor exploded on her tongue. Two swallows later, the round disk was gone and she reached for another one.

  When she’d devoured half the pancakes and five sausages, she sat back and groaned, one hand on her stomach. What a pig! Then she realized Caelan hadn’t made a sound in all the time she was stuffing herself. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

  The smug bastard was tilted back, his chair on two legs. His lips were pursed and there was a definite gleam in his eye. “Feel better?”

  Tieran brought a finger, sticky with syrup, to her mouth and sucked it between her lips, licking it clean. She ignored the low rumble from Caelan’s chest. Served him right.

  Suddenly he leaned forward, the chair thumping on the ground, and yanked her hand to his mouth. His tongue swiped over the finger she’d just cleaned. “Don’t tempt me, my own.”

  “Heaven forbid,” she quipped.

  Caelan trapped her hand under his, resting them on his thigh, then went back to reading his paper.

  Something caught her eye as she reached for the remainder of her soda. A picture in the upper left corner of the newsprint, depicting a woman, her hair flapping in the wind as she smiled at the camera. The caption underneath read “Missing”.

  Her eye twitched. She groaned and dropped her head back on her shoulders. “Not another one, please,” she pleaded silently. This was by far the busiest couple of days she’d ever had.

  * * *

  Nicole Raine Taylor was wreaking havoc on his libido. The little minx didn’t even know what she did to him. Eli glanced over the rim of his coffee mug to watch her slow progression across the kitchen floor. Ten o’clock in the morning and she was just now getting out of bed. She was wearing her glasses, something he didn’t see very often, and her jet-black hair was mussed from a long night smashed into a pillow. Her bare feet slapped on the tile floor and his cock jumped to attention.