Darkness (II)

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Consciousness unfurled within me in the same way a flower does—slowly, and then all at once.

I murmured incoherently, pressing my face into the pillow, mind wheeling with the vestiges of half-forgotten dreams. I was warm, almost uncomfortably so, but I couldn't bring myself to move. I was quite content in my sleep-induced haze. The soft sheets were sliding across my skin, the world was quiet and still, there was a steady weight around my waist...

"You're awake."

My eyes flew open and a shriek hitched in my throat. I looked down, surprised to see that the weight was in fact an arm; and as I turned around, abandoning my view of the white wall, I was even more surprised to see Phoenix staring at me, eyes blazing like the morning sun.

My mouth opened and closed as I tried to conjure an appropriate reply. He was naked...and after looking down at myself I realised that I was, too. The misty haze of sleep slipped like a curtain from a mind, revealing to me all that had transpired the night prior; our argument, and then...

We'd...we'd had sex.

Pure mortification turned my cheeks crimson. I'd wanted to shout at him! I'd wanted to scream and throw things and make him feel bad for making me feel bad but somehow this had happened...

I turned away, staring wide-eyed at the wall. Fuck. Suddenly I was very intimidated by the naked man laid beside me.

Phoenix sighed, almost as if he could hear my thoughts. With the hand that was splayed across my stomach, he drew lazy, reassuring circles across my abdomen. He didn't say anything; I think he knew that if he did, it would only frighten me more. I self-consciously covered my breasts with my hands and sat up, gaze fixated on the tousled sheets that stretched before me. My heart was galloping. My bare, scar-ribbed back was on show to him. It was on show to the beautiful and dark Summum Lycan who had probably had many lovers, all of whom would've surely been more experienced than me. Tears welled in my eyes. Why on earth did I let it happen?

"Isa." he murmured. I did not reply. If I did, I would break.

He trailed his fingers down the length of my spine, gently grazing each faded scar. I shivered. "Where'd you get these?"

I found the courage to speak. "Training." was my quiet reply.

His hand stilled as he heard the tremor in my voice. "Isa..." he pleaded.

I grabbed my bra and panties off of the ground and put them on. I felt him watching me, scrutinising every tremble, analysing my expression in the mirror. I wondered, somewhat absently, what he saw. Did he see the shame? The fear? The anger?

"You scared me yesterday." I spoke quietly, calmly. "And I was angry and then we...we..."

I trailed off. I didn't want to say it. I'd slept with a man I'd known for a couple of months. I'd slept with a man I barely knew...a man who I'd only recently forgiven for his misappropriations. What did that make me?

Perhaps father was right. I was a slut.

"I'm sorry." he said softly. "My family is...it's a sensitive topic for me."

No shit, Sherlock.

"But you were right. You're my mate...you have a right to know."

My gaze met his. He motioned to the empty space beside him and, after a moment, I sat down.

Our mate, the power whispered, both fond and smug. Ours.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.