Page 70 of Aine

Damien’s fingers slip under the hem of my shirt and rest against my belly. I tense, but don’t want to push him away in front of Freya. The petty part of me wants her to see him so willingly touching me.

“His name’s Owen. He’s staying at the inn on the other side of the village. I figured you wouldn’t want him seeing your…” Damien pauses as he searches for the right words. “Extracurricular activities.”

Freya seems pleased with that, if her wide smile is anything to go by. I take the opportunity to get a good look at her. She wears a modest dress that covers her shoulders and falls to her mid-calves, the attire far from her usual. Despite it covering most of her body, it’s impossible not to see her curves underneath. She’s beautiful, the thought sending a shiver of jealousy down my spine.

I can see why Damien would be interested in her.

“Are you going to rid yourself of the human’s scent before dinner?” Freya asks, turning to me.

My head whips to the side so I can stare at Damien. I imagine he must smell heavily of me after I spent all morning riding on his back.

“I have no intentions of doing that,” Damien responds, surprising me.

Can he not just shower and scrub himself until it’s gone? My face turns red as Freya snorts out a laugh. Do I really smell that bad?

“I’m glad to see you two are getting along.” She chuckles, pushing away a strand of hair that falls over her eye.

Damien’s hand returns to mine, and seconds later, he’s leading me past Freya into the building. His anger hits me through the bond in a sharp wave before it disappears altogether. I doubt he’s able to rein in his emotions so quickly, confirming my hunch that he can control what feelings of his I’m able to sense.

His grip is firm as he leads me through the lobby toward the front desk. A small man stands behind the wooden surface, his back straightening and his neck elongating when he spots us approaching.

“Alpha Damien!” he says, ignoring my presence. “It’s been a while! I’ll get you and your companion into the usual suite.” He bends over and pulls out a large book from underneath the desk.

I suck my cheeks into my mouth as he clearly mistakes me for a prostitute, but neither Damien nor I correct him as he flips open the pages in search of an empty section to fill with Damien’s information. Even if I wanted to correct him, I don’t know how I’d describe our relationship. The other beasts call me his mate, but that term feels weird and so does partner or husband.

It’s not as if we’re in a romantic relationship, and the only time he seems to enjoy my company is when sexual touching is involved. My heart falls as I realize that, to some extent, I am nothing more than one of his whores.

“And how long will you be staying for?” the man asks, glancing between Damien and his book.

Damien clears his throat. “My mate and I will be here for three days,” he answers, his hand tightening around my own. “And we’d like separate beds.”

The man stills as Damien says the word “mate,” his face reddening a second later. I hope my discomfort isn’t too evident as I give him a closed-mouth smile. A quiet rumble emerges from Damien’s chest when the man continues to gawk, the angry noise shocking both me and the innkeeper.

I watch humorously as he drops his head and updates his book with the new information, his hand visibly shaking as he rushes to finish and hand Damien a key.

Damien’s movements are too fast for me to follow as he snatches it up. His arm wraps around my waist before guiding me to the stairwell.

“We’re on the fifth floor.” He bends to wrap his arms around the backs of my thighs. I gasp as he lifts and holds me tightly against his chest. “I’ll carry you.”

Being in his arms puts us at eye level, but I refuse to look at his face as he walks up the stairs. Humiliation runs rampant inside me at the knowledge that I’m just a glorified whore of his, despite him telling that man we were mates.

Damien huffs and readjusts his hold, his neck craning as he tries to get me to look him in the eye. I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing the wetness in them.

“The beasts all know you’re my mate. It’s only the humans who will be confused,” Damien murmurs.

I shrug, not wanting him to know how much I care.

Damien reaches the fifth floor and sets me carefully on my feet. “I’ll correct them whenever a mistake is made. Word will spread, and everybody will soon know how to address you,” he promises. “You’re my mate, and I won’t let people think you’re anything less than that.”

“It doesn’t matter to me either way.” I grunt, following him into the room.

It’s small, but I don’t mind as I make my way to the bed farthest from the door and set down my bag. Damien watches from the entrance, thankfully not pushing the issue any further as he takes ownership of the other bed.

“Will you accompany me to dinner tonight?” he asks after a moment of tense silence. “Freya and Owen will be there, and I’d like to formally introduce you as my mate.”

I assumed I’d be joining him already and feel a bit relieved he offered before I made that known. It would be nothing short of humiliating to ask when we’re going for dinner, only for him to tell me I’m not invited.

“Just as you introduced me when I first arrived in your village?” I snap, knowing I’m being petty but too frustrated to care.

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