“Does your room have a repaired window?”
“Yes.” I didn’t move to open the door, though. I could just imagine how he’d react to a bed and dresser.
“Show me.”
I briefly narrowed my eyes at him, reached out, and opened the room I shared with Mary. Was he just looking for signs I’d settled in so he could complain? I stepped inside. He followed me, moving further into the room. He took a deep breath as he studied everything. He looked at the bed longest.
His expression changed slightly. Some of the arrogance left.
“Are you comfortable at night?” he asked quietly. He turned toward me, letting his arms once again fall loosely to his sides.
I didn’t like the sudden change.
Seven
Thomas’ gaze held mine in the lamplight, and I realized the purpose behind this tour and why he still stood there. He didn’t care about the bed or the dresser or the changes I’d made.
“You want to bite me, too, don’t you?”
He didn't flinch in guilt or look away as a spark of need lit in his eyes.
“Yes.”
His softly spoken word made me shiver.
“Biting hurts, you know. A lot. So, I’ll pass.” I turned and started to walk away from him.
“I saw you, and I couldn’t breathe.” His quiet admission slowed my steps. “The world and all of the responsibilities it’s given me fell away. There was only you, and I wanted nothing else.”
I stopped walking but didn’t turn. “And now?”
“Now...”
I looked over my shoulder and caught him running a hand through his hair. His gaze was on the floor, and he frowned.
“Responsibilities never go away. My people depend on me. I want you. But I can’t walk away from my responsibilities to chase you.”
“Chase me? I don’t want to be chased.” I’d been chased twice already and had hated it.
“Then give me your permission to Claim you.”
I snorted. He’d almost been sweet for a minute there. But I doubted any of his kind really knew what it meant to be sweet. It just didn’t seem to be in their nature. They were too wild, too disconnected with their human sides.
“You don’t know the first thing about what it takes to be human,” I said.
“What does that have to do with Claiming you?”
“I’m human,” I said in exasperation. “Just what are you going to do with me when you Claim me?” I ignored the glint that flared in his eyes and pressed my point. “Do you think I’d survive a winter in these woods? Are you ready to live in this place permanently? How will you feed me? I’ve noticed your kind doesn’t seem to think vegetables are a requirement in their daily menu. For me, they are. I can get sick from lack of the right foods, from exposure, from...well, a lot. And I don’t heal like you.” I tilted my head so he could see the bite marks still there.
“You need to learn what it means to be human before you can care for one.” I didn’t just mean physically, either.
He stood there for several breaths just watching me, frustration plain on his face. When he spoke, there was a hint of it in his voice, too.
“While you’re in here hiding, they’re out there fighting. This needs to end. I know you’re the right one.” He eyed me for a moment as if he expected some reaction to that statement. I gave none, and he let out a half-growl. “With your permission, we could end this chaos.”
I didn’t like the way he said permission, as if he thought it completely unreasonable that I had a say in my own future.
“What if you bite me, and it doesn’t work again?” I said.
“It will work.”
“I understand you’re certain, but I’m not. What if it doesn’t work?”
“I’m certain enough for both of us. I smell you, and I know.”
I snorted again. I could see it becoming a habit with him around.
“The other two that bit me thought they knew, too. So, since you’re not inclined to think ahead and plan for more than one possibility, allow me. If you bite me and it doesn’t work, those men out there will become more aggressive. They won’t content themselves with just meeting me because they’ll know I’ve given my permission to someone, and each one will want his chance at a little nip. The fighting will escalate. And—here’s the important part—I’ll have another wound to try to keep clean.
“My answer remains a very firm no. If you don’t like it, tell me to leave. I’m not sure this is the right place for me, anyway.”
A collective howl rose outside my window. I realized too late that I’d grown a bit loud.