Revelation

-Forty Three-

Nathena

"We're no longer having this argument. I hereby terminate this unnecessary talk."

It takes all of what remaining patience I have not to snort out loud. I can't, however, hold back my sarcasm. "Where are we? A courtroom?"

Triple-O, my mate who is supposedly known for his profound listening skills, is not pleased by my response. "I don't like your tone, love."

I throw my hands up in the air in frustration. "Do you expect me to be all cheerful after you purposely ignored me?"

"I didn't ignore you. I chose not to listen." Triple-O clarifies; probably the only man, regardless of species, that can admit that truth. This definitely helps his case with regards to his fantastic listening skills.

I might have mistaken the word listening for tuning out because that's what Triple-O has been doing the past hour. I tell him no in one ear and that plea goes out the other in less than a millisecond. "For the last time," I try to say calmly through gritted teeth, "you're not coming with me."

Triple-O sighs. He actually releases an exhausted breath as if he is the victim in our argument. "For the last time," he repeats my words in a more peaceful manner, "as your mate, I am obliged to come with you. You're going to need protection."

"I can handle myself," I reply back coldly, repeating that sentence for the tenth time. I can't seem to get through my mate's thick skull.

Triple-O can be so aggravating at times.

Actually, he's always annoying.

"Not where you're going. That place requires back up." To prove that he's not backing down, Triple-O swings his backpack over his shoulders. He's ready for my trip.

It's supposed to be my mission, not ours.

"I should have left without telling you," I mumble to myself while putting on my backpack and stomping my way to the main foyer of my house.

That's one fact that's not going to change. This is my home, not Triple-O's.

He's more like an unwanted guest.

Wow, I'm a shitty mate.

"I'm sorry Nathena, I don't have lycan hearing. What did you say?" Triple-O asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

Another reason why Kenny is better than him.

I shouldn't say that because I don't want to deal with a crabby Triple-O. "Just don't get in my way," I decide to tell him and hold out my hands.

Thrilled that he won the argument, my mate grabs my hands a little too eagerly for my liking. I can feel the sparks from his touch, reminding me that he is in fact my mate and I should treat him with more respect. Together, we intertwine our powers, doubling our strength, and chant the Latin words required to teleport.

The beauty of teleportation is that there is no stomach sickening sensation. On the contrary, the whole process feels like a peaceful meditation. My hair gently swirls to the force of the power of the spell. My eyes feel slightly warmer as the world of auras come clear to me. I can see Triple-O's purple aura. It's similar to mine in that sense because all sorcerers have a purple aura for a base and then it depends on our family heritage for the rest of the shades. Triple-O's aura is mixed with shades of dark red that represents the Older clan's power but his colour is nothing compared to my family's golden aura.

Thankfully, the entire spell doesn't take too long to finish. I wouldn't want to be staring at Triple-O's aura much more than I have to.

I seriously need to take some classes on manners on how to act towards your mate. I'm too much of a douche bag.