AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I shut off the water, toweled dried, blotted my damp hair, and dressed in a blue camisole, a white cashmere cardigan, and comfy tights. Hmm. Still cold. How I craved Callen’s warmth.
My phone lay on the bathroom counter, near one of two gold faucets. A blinking light alerted me to a message. Whoa! Twenty-seven messages, to be exact, all from Isobel. Most were selfies of her with my mom, and my chest ached. Both women were smiling. Only one image came with text.
Tick tock. Momma’s happiness is soon to go bye-bye.
Anger collided with frustration. I typed out a message of my own:You will get yours, Isobel Bruce.
No, that would only make her angry and who knew what she’d do then. I hit the backspace button until every letter erased, then stuffed the device in my pocket and exited the bathroom, only to stop short. Callen sat on the edge of the bed, head bowed with his forearms resting on his thighs.
Without lifting his head, he looked up and gave me a languid once-over. His pupils expanded, then slowly unfolded to a stand.My breath caught. He’d showered and changed and now wore a plain white T-shirt and fadedjeans, with the hems tucked into combat boots. So casual. As far removed from the barbarian who’d decapitated an assembly-line of wolves.
Awareness arced between us, parts of me heating at last. “Where did you wash up?” I tried for a normal tone, but I wasn’t sure I succeeded.
“A guest bathroom.” Ifhetried for a normal tone, he absolutely failed. He sounded…hungry.
Tingles rushed through me. “You didn’t rage-out today,” I commented softly.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “You needed me not to.”
“If you’re here to talk about the ceremony,” I began.
“I’m no’ here to talk of that.” He straightened slightly, studying me with an intensity I felt in my bones. “That will come after.”
Flutters teased my belly. “After?”
“Malachi noted your lack of mark.” Possessiveness blazed in Callen’s eyes as he stepped toward me. “We’re goin’ to remedy that.”
Mark? Like his tattoos? I jumped back , stretching out my arms to ward him off. “Are you telling me those tattoos denote the number of times you’ve been married?”
He blinked rapidly, searching my face as if I were some kind of unsolvable puzzle. “I knew your father and uncle kept you in the dark about the ways of our people, but I had no’ realized you were this sheltered.”
Um… “So you don’t have hundreds of wives in your past?”
“You are the first.” His tone dropped to a low, husky baritone. “The only.”
Ignore the newest flutters. “What do the tattoos denote, then? And what’s amark? Why do I need it?” Knowing heaccepted cluelessness from Isobel opened a thousand doors of opportunity for me. If only I’d obtained this info sooner.
A muscle jumped in his jaw. One of his tells. “A mark is something a sentinel husband gives his wife on their wedding night to forever protect her from other immortals, if ever they are parted.”
Okay, a source of protection could come in handy. But. “I’m still unclear about what this actual mark is. And why didn’t you take care of it on our wedding night?” Isobel had been with him. Right?
Hmm. At what point did we actually switch?
“The mark is better shown than explained.” A pause ticked on and on before Callen admitted, “I didn’t intend to mark you at all.”
I swallowed. “Why the change of heart?” Did he expect it to magically fix our problems?
“Because you are…different.Weare different.” He flashed the barest hint of a smile, and it appeared genuine. “With time and patience, I believe we can forge a solid connection.”
He did like me. And yes, I liked him, too. But… “I’m not ready for this.”
He worked his jaw. “We’ll discuss it later then. I hear footsteps.”
“Daddy!” Mirren burst into the bedroom. The little girl ran to her father, tears streaming down her cheeks. Someone had arranged her mass of dark hair into an elaborate series of braids. “You can’t leave, you just can’t!”
Callen caught her and lifted her to his chest. He planned to leave?
“My apologies for the interruption,” Gavina called outside the open door. Too polite to enter without permission? “If I may, I will collect Mirren?—”
