Darius didn’t come home for dinner last night. I came to bed a little after 11 pm and he’s still not home. Not that I was waiting for him. Nope.
I wake up this morning with a big strong arm around my waist and a big warm body lying next to mine. I lift my head up to find him staring at me broodingly in the soft, subdued morning light.
His pale blond hair is sticking up everywhere. The lower half of his face is covered by morning stubble. Morning stubble looks hot on him.
“Hi,” I whisper, then I clear my throat. My voice is croaky in the morning.
“Hey,” he says. His voice is deep and husky, but unlike me, he sounds totally sexy.
“When did you get in?” I ask him, still half whispering.
“Around two this morning.”
“Where did you go?” I feel like a nagging wife as soon as the question comes out of my mouth, but he surprised me by answering, “I went for a run.”
His pink lower lip is shoved forward almost into a pout and his thick eyebrows are drawn down, but his light blue eyes are studying my every feature intently like I was the most fascinating thing in the world.
It makes me nervous, so I lower my eyes and study the
medallion resting on his bare chest instead. It’s made of a black metal. It’s engraved with a raised profile of a lycan’s head with three stars above it. There are a few symbols that I don’t understand underneath it. It actually looks like a nobility crest.
Maybe this is his family crest? I’ve seen some of the crests at the Banehallow Palace.
I gingerly touch the medallion and I feel like he stops breathing for a second. I feel him watching me as I let my finger trace the raised engraving on the metal. I feel his hand that’s now resting on my hip tightening and his Adam’s apple moves as he
swallows. The heat from his hand on my hip burn through the thin fabric of my pajama bottom, sending delicious need straight to my core.
The air around us seems to grow heavy and I’m feeling nervous all of a sudden. Nervous Penny is not good. Nervous Penny tends to blab inappropriate things sometimes. So I say the first thing that comes to mind, “sooo…. do you have nightmares every night?” I have been wondering about this for a couple of days now.
“Almost every night, yeah,” he answers, his voice comes out huskier than before.
“How long have you been getting them?” My finger keeps toying with the medallion. This time I move up to trace the thin black chain against his skin.
I hear his heartbeat speeds up and his draws in a ragged breath. It takes a while for him to answer. He swallows hard before he says, “a long time.”
My own breathing grows shallow and fast, and I clenched my thighs together, but I keep going. “How long?” Gosh, I have to keep talking to keep myself from imagining all sorts of things I want him to do to me…or things I want to do to him. Which is not happening. Nope.
“Years. Years and years.”
Asking for information from this guy is like trying to win one of those little soft toys from the claw machine thingy.
“You’ve been having nightmares almost every night for years and years?”
“It wasn’t this bad before…it’s just gotten worse.” That answer leaves a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach all of a sudden and I pull my hand back down. Did it start getting worse three years ago?
“What are the nightmares about?”
“It’s nothing, Persephone,” he says in frustration.
As if he realized how abrasive his answer sounded, he adds,
“it’s just always the same thing now. Just the same nightmare.”
“What is it about?” I ask him again. When he keeps silent, I know he’s not going to tell me about it.
Always the same nightmare, and he keeps calling my name.
“You were calling out my name,” I look up at him. “Do…do I give you nightmares?”
His eyes soften. He looks at me straight in the eyes and says,
“no. No, you don’t, Persephone.”
“If I didn’t, then how come you’re calling out my name?”
He releases my hips with a sigh and rolls to lie on his back to stare at the ceiling.
“It’s complicated.” He says, resting his hand on his forehead.
His body is a delicious distraction. My eyes wander to look at his cut pecs, the delicious ridges of his eight packs, the deep v that disappears into that low hanging pajama bottom. I drag my eyes away with difficulty and I raise myself up on my elbow to look into his eyes. “Uncomplicate it. Tell me.”
His eyes shift to look at me and then I remember that his eyes are also a distraction. He raises his hand to run his thumb gently down my cheek and my jawline. Jolts of electricity and pleasure travel down my body from that little touch.
“Persephone, whatever happens, know that I care about you. I never meant to hurt you. I care about you more than you know.”
What does that mean? Arrggghh!!! Nope, he doesn’t get to say that. Saying things like that would only make me like him.
Could make me fall for him even, and I don’t want that. I don’t need that.
“No,” I sit back to create more space between us and he lets his hand falls to the side. “No, no, no…Fvck you and your cryptic comments. Talking polar bears make more sense than you do.”
He looks amused at my sudden outburst. His eyes gleam and his lips curl up into a sexy lopsided smile. He pulls himself up to his elbow as he stares at me. His muscles flex and I try not to stare.
“Talking polar bears?” he asks, raising one blond eyebrow that’s a few shades darker than his hair. “Where do I find these talking polar bears that you speak of?”
“Nowhere! Because that’s how much you’re making sense.”
“And our old Persephone is back,” he mutters before he throws his head back and laughs.
His deep carefree laugh makes my heart aches longingly and stomach dives like I was plunging down on a rollercoaster ride.
Fvck him! I don’t want to feel this way and nope, I’m not totally giving up on my resolution yet. We’re still friends and that’s what we’ll ever be, and I don’t want these feelings.
Talking to him this morning didn’t really get me anywhere. I’m nowhere near understanding what’s going on in his head or his persistent nightmares. My curiosity is always my downfall.
Sitting across from him at the breakfast table this morning, I steal a glance at him only to find him already watching me with a little amused smile playing on his lips. I still haven’t forgiven him for this morning. I don’t remember exactly why, but I know that I’m pissed. Maybe I’m pissed off because I didn’t get the answers I’ve been looking for or maybe because he makes me feel things I don’t want to feel. Maybe both.
I glare at him before I bite into my toast. His smile grows and I force down the urge to throw the nearest object, which happens to be my cow coffee mug at his gorgeous face. Unfortunately for me, and fortunately for him, I love my cow mug too much.
Remember your resolution, Penny! Gah! Why the hell did I start that resolution in the first place? This man is making it hard for me to keep my resolution. I feel like kicking him in the nuts every time I see him, to be honest. Him and Caspian.
Arrghhh…I need to go and punch and kick…stuff.
“Where are you going?” asks Genesis as I push my chair back while still downing my last drop of coffee.
“Training.”
“Okay, good. I’ll help you train,” says Caspian.
“No, she’s training with me,” objects Darius.
“NO!” I say. I’m fully standing up now with my hands on my hips. I want to get away from him and kick something and pretend that it’s him. So, no, I don’t want him there.
“Why not?” he has the cheek to ask me.
Arrgghhh!!! “Because you make sense like the polar bear!” I exclaim, like duh!
“I promise not to be the talking polar bear this time,” he says.
“Besides, you get the chance to practice your kick and punch and choke holds on me.”
The thought of being able to kick him for real instead of some random punching dummy or a tree trunk is very tempting. He can read me so well, it’s creepy.
He smiles up at me innocently and I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously.
“You’d better not be!” I point a finger at him. That’s when I notice that everybody is watching us quietly.
“The polar bear is way in the Arctic this time, trust me,” he says, looking somewhat satisfied. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.
The room is still quiet as I huff and twirl around to make my exit.
“Am I missing something?” I hear Caspian saying as I climb up the stairs to get changed.
Darius is a very good teacher. I’m surprised. He perfected my stance, demonstrates some moves with easy instructions, and let me figure out my weaknesses and ways to correct them with patience.
I know he goes easy on me during our sparring session, but he’s relentless. By the end of our sparring session, I’m drenched in sweat.
Our lycan friends all came to train today. I suspect they’re actually more interested in watching Darius and me than actually training. Nosy lycans. All of them.
My nosy best friend is the worst of them all. She doesn’t even pretend to train. She spread the blanket on the ground and lay all the food on it. It looks like a small buffet. She sat right in the middle of it and munch away. Watching us like she’s watching one of her favorite shows on tv.
Towards the end of our sparring session, Darius peels his sweat soaked t-shirt off and I find it hard to concentrate on anything else. The flex of his muscles, even drops of sweat rivulet down his perfect cut pecs and abs are fascinating. It’s distracting.
Very annoying.
Drops of sweat are making trails down my back and in between the valley of my breast. I feel the wet material sticking to my skin uncomfortably. All the men are now shirtless, while Serena and I are in our sports bras. I’m feeling a little resentful.
“It’s not fair that you guys get to go topless and we girls can’t,”
I finally say enviously.
“What’s stopping you girls?” asks Caspian. “By all means, ladies!” he gestures with his hands for us to proceed. A big mischievous smile on his face.
“Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” says Serena.
Caspian chuckles, and this time he manages to crouch down in time to avoid Lazarus’s attempt to swat the back of his head.
I laugh and glance at Darius and catches him staring at me as if in trance. His eyes travel down my body slowly, then up again.
The way his eyes darken with hunger makes me want to clench my thighs together. His eyes reach mine and he ducks his head down as if he’s been caught doing what he’s not supposed to do.
That’s kinda weird because I caught him staring a lot of times in the past and he always acted as if it’s no big deal. This guy is more complicated than pretzels. Beats me if I know what that means.
“I think we should take a break,” he says, still not looking at me.
“Yes, sounds good to me,” I agree.
Lazarus, Serena, Caspian, and Eva had taken off. They
disappeared into the woods for their run.
“I think you’ve refueled enough. Want to go for a run with me, my love?” Constantine holds his hand out to his mate.
“I’m stuffed!” says Genesis, taking his offered hand. “I don’t know about running.”
He grabs her hand and pulls her to him, then whispers
something in her ear. A smile grows on her lips and she pecks his lips all of a sudden. “Race ya!” she yells, then she takes off in a flash.
Constantine grins wickedly as he stares after her, then he turns to smile at us. “See you guys later. Much later,” he winks, then he’s gone.
I can only imagine what they’re up to…Ughhh!!! Sometimes I’m jealous of their relationship, but I’m also very happy for them. My best friend deserves happiness and the very best.
“You love Genesis,” he observes.
“She’s family,” I shrug as I take Genesis’s place in the middle of the blanket. “They all are,” I add. I’ve grown to love them all and think of them as my family apart from my own parents and also Reese and River and their daughter Piper. I’d do anything for them.
Darius nods in understanding as he clears some containers of food aside and sits next to me on the blanket. I hand him a bottle of water from the cooler and grab another one for myself.
“Hey, thank you for teaching me today. You’re a great teacher,”
I tell him.
He takes a swig of the water, his light blue eyes gleam.
“I’ve trained a lot of warriors. You’re a very fast learner, you’re quick and clever. You’re a natural fighter, Persephone,” he says. Despite myself, I feel myself glowing from his praise.
“Your weakness is you loose your temper very easily,” he grins.
I chuck a banana at him and he ducks his head but catches it just before it hits the ground. He then makes a show of peeling the banana and takes a big bite out of it all the while smiling at me. I roll my eyes and start peeking into the containers of food that my crazy best friend brought with her.
I found chicken sandwiches, cold cut sandwiches, slices of oranges, strawberries, potato salad, potato chips, packets of Twizzlers, a jar of Nutella, and a jar of sauerkraut. What? I must be staring at the sauerkraut in puzzlement for quite a while when Darius says, “kislaya kapusta.”
“Huh?”
“It’s called kislaya kapusta in Russian,” he explains, looking like he’s trying to hold in his laughter.
“Kislaya..what?” I’m still trying to figure out what sauerkraut is doing among the food that Genesis brought and Darius
promptly bursts out laughing.
We share the rest of the food between the two of us, except for the sauerkraut.
We talk and I discover that we have a few things in common.
We don’t have one favorite color. We both agree that why chose one when we can like all the other colors too? We like Oreos,
but we don’t like the sweet creme filling in between…well, that’s about it.
“We have a lot more in common than you know, Persephone,”
he says.
“Oh yeah? Tell me about me, oh wise one,” I smirk at him.
“Well, we are both the only child. We are stubborn. We hate sharing. We love exercising and training till we drop.
We both can be cold and downright cruel to people who pose any threat to what we consider as ours or people we care about.”
I don’t know what to say to that because it’s true. I’m not sweet like Serena or cute like Genesis. I’m no angel. I lose my temper easily. If people I love or something that I deem as mine is threatened, I can be a downright bitch. When I love, I love too deeply. I give too freely. If he’s anything like me, he hurts intensely too.
“There’s absolutely nothing we wouldn’t do to protect
them…including denying our hearts’ greatest desire..or suffer, or die to make sure they’re safe,” he whispers this part while looking into my eyes with a wistful look and some other emotion that I can’t decipher.
He stares at me in silence for a moment. As if he can’t help himself, he runs the back of a finger gently down my cheek while his eyes are staring at my eyes, my nose, my lips, then back into my eyes as if memorizing my every feature.
“So much in common we could be so good together or we both could go up in flames,” he whispers almost inaudibly like he’s not even aware that he’s vocalizing it.
