Page 48 of Bearly Yours
“What happened to your mate?”
Alastair’s lips quirked. “Does that work on others, that dragon power and presumptiveness?”
In other words, I wasn’t getting an answer. I winced and thought maybe I didn’t deserve an answer. It had been an incredibly nosey and pushy question.
Having my mate catatonic in my arms was destroying my heart and self control. I was behaving like a dragon half my age.
“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely, and he nodded in acceptance of my apology.
“Emrie and I are close, maybe closer than she is with Mateo, although that would be tough to tell.” His golden hazel eyes found mine. “I’m glad she found you.”
“Me too,” I said softly.
Chapter 12
Emrie
Ihadn’t noticed it before, because it was night and I was a little freaked out, and also I was trying to be calm for the cub, but there was a light grey mist over everything. Including in the house.
I sat down with the cub in the living room where the Clan, Roarke and I had just watched a chick flick—it had been my movie-night pick—and I’d gotten to enjoy a room full of males groaning over the sappy love story with a huge smile on my face while eating my gummy worms and drinking my mint water. It had been a red-letter night. I’d been having a lot of those days and nights lately, and I was a fan, let me tell you. It wasn’t that my life until now had been sad, grey and dismal. No, not at all. It had just been sort of muted. And now there were colors everywhere, and music no one else but me could hear.
Not literally. I am not currently experiencing auditory hallucinations at this time.
Although—I shivered as I glanced around the dim, grey living room. Have you ever seen those movies where they leach just a little bit of color out of the character’s world? Just enough so that the audience knows that something really whacked is about to happen?
Yep. Except this was real life, and I was determined to protect myself and the cub in my arms from whatever freaked-out thing was happening or about to happen.
And then, in the space of a blink, a large, very shadowy figure was suddenly sitting in the chair across from me.
“Hello, Emrie.”
Now listen, normally, I don’t talk to shadowy figures. Stranger danger, after all. But my Clan had disappeared, Roarke had disappeared, and there was a creepy grey cast to everything my eyesight touched. I was more than a little freaked out, and the sudden appearance of what amounted to a moving black shadow blob given form and substance sitting in a chair was enough for me to realize I might need therapy, or at least a plate of nachos, after this.
The black shadow crossed his legs. I could tell it was male from his voice, but also because he was massive. Or, at least his black shadow was massive. I couldn’t make out anything other than basic dimensions. There was no form or features for me to focus my gaze on. I couldn’t even make out basic skin or hair color.
I remained mute. I wanted to speak, but I waited him out, on high alert. I could run like the wind if I needed to to protect myself and the cub, and I could change into my bear in moments. While I tried to assure myself with these thoughts, they didn’t help much, considering the man was a shadow, and would more than likely not be damaged by my bear claws or teeth.
Still, it was better than my fragile human hands and teeth, if push came to shove.
A glass snifter appeared in one of his hands. He sniffed the liquid before taking a sip. I sat back, suddenly very interested in not speaking first. My anxiety was snarling obscenities at me,but I was determined that I would give this shadowy presence nothing of me first.
It was something I’d learned from Alpha Riggs. When you were in a situation where there were powerful players on the board, you sat back and observed as much as possible, letting the other players show their hands first, and then you acted. And then you spoke.
So, I tried to shove my fear and anxiety down deep, and I waited patiently for him to show his hand.
The cub in my arms didn’t even stir. It had fallen asleep nestled next to my heartbeat.
“No questions, Emrie?”
I raised an eyebrow.
He chuckled, seeming to find great amusement in my silence. “You remind me of your mother.”
Now why did my insides squirm when he said that? He hadn’t said it in a lecherous tone of voice, but there had been something there, just at the edge of his words, that bothered me.
Still, I said nothing.
He sipped his drink and gazed around the lodge casually. This told me two things: he might know the layout of the room we were in, and the lodge, but he’d never seen it in person. There was too much interest in his movements. Too much time spent eying the tiny details that most people didn’t notice at first glance.
