The Spirit Walker (BOOK ONE): The Ripple

Chapter Seventeen: Netflix

Maise slinks away on silent soles, her embroidery clasped in hand.

Calum's presence fills the room. Woodsmoke and pepper and pine and power.

"I heard that you had a difficult day, yesterday. I apologize that I was not available to comfort you upon your return," he rumbles. His voice is soothing, as comforting as a lullaby.

His words, though, make my cheeks warm, and I curse Elder Diyani- or Ness's- wagging tongue.

"It's fine," I say, waving away his apology. The memory of the lingerie shop, and my reaction to a cursory measuring, makes me cringe.

"I did not realize... You do not flinch when I touch you, anymore," Calum observes, softly, as he sits beside me. Close, but far enough to not risk touching. Still, his mere presence is enough to send heat ripping through my veins.

I wince.

"I'm not exactly in control of myself- or even aware of my surroundings- when you touch me."

Calum chuckles. "Is that so?"

There's something like pride in his voice. Stupid, conceited, masculine pride. I scowl. Then, I think of the tragic story the housekeeper had shared, and I my annoyance melts away.

Calum's entire expression changes.

"Magda told you." His brows are furrowed, his nostrils flared.

I blink.

"Did you plan on keeping it from me?"

Calum shakes his head, avoiding eye contact. "I just... I didn't want you looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"With pity."

I swallow, and lick my lips. "Calum, I..."

"My family is gone, but their memory and their love are here, always with me," he says, placing a large hand over his heart. "Everyone experiences loss, but our losses do not need to define us. Mine do not define me. I long for those who are gone, but surviving their deaths made me grow, made me strong. I am not a child, anymore. Your pity makes me feel like one."

How... strangely eloquent.

I feel like I should apologize, but an apology seems wrong, too. I'm not sure how to respond to such a raw display of honesty.

"You're right. You're definitely not a child," I murmur, instead, casting a quick, pointed glance over his physique.

His expression registers shock, and then he snorts out a laugh. The jolt the sound sends through me is every bit as predictable as it is disconcerting.

"You're funny," he observes, sounding pleasantly surprised.

"I have my moments."

He chuckles again, seemingly pleased.

He's always seemed like the epitome of confidence, but now I wonder if he is as worried as I am about whether or not we'll get along on a personal level.

"We um," I pause and bite my lip. Calum's gaze zeroes in on the motion, and the flaring of his nostrils tell me exactly how he has responded to it. I flush, and shift in my seat- the movement too telling, but not nearly enough to alleviate the sudden ache between my thighs. "We don't know each other very well, do we?"

"We know of one another's greatest tragedies."

"But not the day to day stuff," I return.

Calum looks amused. "Well. What would you like to know?"