“Zip it,” I mumbled and grabbed a fitted cowl neck top with three-quarter sleeves. One of the dressier tops I owned.
Clay started barking, a deep menacing bark that raised the little hairs on the back of my neck. I spun toward him saying, “What the hell Clay! Cut it out.” I knew he didn’t like that, because he got louder.
Rachel burst in without knocking and Peter followed right behind her. “What’s wrong?” She looked at Clay, who continued to bark at me.
If possible, he grew even louder and I had to yell over him. “Nothing. Just give me a few minutes to calm him down okay?” I walked to Clay with the clothes still under one arm and he growled at me. I faltered, eyeing him with a growing hint of fear.
“Uh, I’m not so sure you should do that right now,” Peter cautioned, concern on his face.
Clay turned and started barking at Peter.
“Enough!” I shouted, getting seriously angry. My voice echoed in the small room apparently taking Clay by surprise because the noise stopped. However, his attitude hadn’t changed. Teeth still exposed in fierce snarl, his glared at all of us. At least he’d finished barking and growling. For the moment.
I turned toward Peter and Rachel. Wanting them to leave, I said, “I’m fine. Thank you. Just give me a few minutes to change.”
They left the room, shutting the door behind them, after sharing a glance.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Without trying, I could “see” Clay in a painful burst of light. A first. My other vision usually required an amount of focus. Whatever his issue, it still affected him.
With a sigh, I opened my eyes and turned to him. He looked seriously pissed.
“Will you bite me if I sit next to you Clay?” I asked him quietly. He snorted and I watched the silent snarl ease from his muzzle. His hackles slowly laid flat. He’d been up on all fours at the end of my bed, but when he settled on his hunches, I knew he’d calmed down and sat next to him, facing the door.
“You know, I don’t understand dog right?” I turned my head to meet his gaze, our faces close together, with him looking down at me. “It’d be so much easier to know what was wrong if you just told me.”
He let out a gusty sigh and bent his head to nudge the clothes I still held.
“You don’t like the clothes or that I’m going out?” I was watching his face trying to figure out what he was getting at. He actually bobbed his head yes. “You don’t like both?” He lowered himself down onto the mattress and watched me with his sad puppy eyes, not trying to communicate further. “You’re really frustrating me, Clay.” I moved to get up and he growled again.
“Now, hold on…” I did get up, but spun with my hands on my hips to look him in the eye, and whispered fiercely, “I’m trying here Clay and you’re not. So stop growling at me, got it? And so what if I go out? Do you trust me so little? Have you not been paying attention? I’m not comfortable around guys. It’s not as if I’m going to go out tonight and come back with a boyfriend or something. So, just chill out about your claim, alright?”
He quietly growled at me, now giving me his dog-eyed glare. In his mind, he and I shared a tie. I knew that. I also knew from a werewolf standpoint, in a strongly tied pair, the male often acted in an extremely possessive manner. If other unmated males came near before the claim is completed, there was usually a fight. Sometimes to the death.
“But we’re not talking unmated males,” I whispered to him thinking aloud. “They’re just men.”
He chuffed out his canine laugh and hopped from the bed to walk toward me. I couldn’t help it, after all that barking and growling, I stepped back from him. His sides heaved a sigh and he stopped advancing.
“Sorry,” I mumbled knowing the fear I felt would disappoint him. He’d done nothing but try to communicate why he didn’t want me to go out tonight. Granted his methods of communication could use improvement.
“Let me think Clay.” I sat on the edge of the bed while he remained on the floor, standing tall, watching me. I still didn’t understand what continued to bother him. The date wasn’t with a werewolf. I had no interest in the person. I only wanted to go as a favor to Rachel. And the clothes were the only ‘going out’ clothes I had.
“Can we compromise? I don’t want to be spending the entire year sitting at home with a possessive dog who won’t talk to me…” Yeah, that sounded weird. “What if we went somewhere dog friendly? There’s a bar with cute little bistro tables on the sidewalk. If you’re on your leash, you could come.”
He stood, turning around so he faced away from me and sat again.
“Is that a yes?” I whispered leaning to the side in an attempt to see his face. He didn’t move.