Four

The ride home was blissfully silent. Genevieve didn’t even turn the radio on. She dragged in the box with the skillet, percolator, and bowls and went back for the clothes. The third trip she took the electric kettle and toaster. The car was empty and she felt so exhausted she just left the hatch up and crawled onto her bed next to the clothes.

She didn’t know how much later it was when she was startled awake by someone shutting the door to the bedroom. Her head felt foggy and something smelled like smoke. Pushing off of the bed, she realized someone had taken off her shoes. Genevieve rubbed her eyes and shuffled to the door to look out before realizing she smelled smoke.

Baffled, she opened the door and leaned out. “Hello?”

“Hey, sleeping beauty.” Brandon was standing in the living room talking to Remi. “Everybody is outside, we just came in to check on you.”

“I smell smoke.” She shook her head with a smile at Remi’s grin.

“There’s a bonfire outside.”

“One sec.” Brandon went to the fridge and came back with a tub of something. He peeled the lid back and held it under her nose. “What does this smell like?”

Inhaling deeply, there was nothing there. “Nothing.”

“Phantom smell. Sorry, Vivi. If you can’t smell tuna salad your nose isn’t working.” Brandon made a regretful face and took the tub back to the fridge. 

Remi looked disappointed. “Do you get those often?”

“No. Very, very rarely. That’s why I get kind of excited about them. I don’t smell anything at all most of the time. Even smoke is a nice change.” Offering him a half smile she came out of the room. “How long did I nap? And who managed to take off my shoes without waking me?”

“An hour and a half, and Brandon did. You were out, all you did was twitch and mutter something about eight cups.”

“I do like the pink glasses you picked up.” Brandon smiled and wrinkled his nose. “I hate everything else. What are you even going to do with a stove top percolator? I can get you a french press, you would love it.” He shooed her toward her room. “Now go get your shoes on, you have guests.”

Pulling her shoes on as she listened to the two of them arguing about making coffee, she had to shake her head. Remi was only arguing because he didn’t like Brandon being mean about the percolator she’d been so excited to find. He’d apparently never had percolated coffee. 

Stepping back out, Brandon looked at her and pointed to the bathroom. Genevieve opted to use it, wash up, and take a minute to run a brush through her hair before pulling it back up into a ponytail. 

Checking the mirror, she still looked tired. Her brown eyes looked a little duller than usual and they had noticeable bags under them. At least her dark hair just looked shiny instead of greasy. 

“If she likes percolator coffee I don’t see the problem.” Remi was crossing his arms and looking intimidating.

“The problem is that she can’t taste the difference and anybody else drinking it is going to suffer.” Brandon poked him in the chest. He wasn’t half of Remi’s size but he was utterly unafraid. One of his better qualities as far as Genevieve was concerned.

“I liked percolator coffee before I lost my sense of smell, and anyone who doesn't like my coffee doesn’t have to drink it. I’m almost sure I told you that before.” She blinked innocently at Brandon. “But speaking of, I need some caffeine, is there any RC left?” 

“I would be surprised if anyone was drinking it. Normal people will stick with Pepsi and Coke.” Brandon waved at her dismissively heading toward the door. 

Remi glanced at her with a half smile. “I think there’s some RC left if you want a pop. Or you could make coffee.”

“I do have instant.” Genevieve nodded.

“No, no you don’t.” Remi looked a little chagrined. “You have real coffee. Mr. Germain threw out your instant. He let me stock your house and even brought over things like baking trays and measuring cups that you didn't have. Housewarming gifts.”

“Why?” She paused before going out, “I know I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth but I don’t understand why he’s being so generous. He really, really doesn't have to.”

“You’re my mate. I need you to stay.” His eye was a glowing gold for a moment. “He knows what it means to me.”

“You’ll have to explain it to me.” 

Mr. Germain met them with a smile as she pushed open the screen door. “I thought witches knew about us?”

“I knew you existed. I thought if I ran across any of you I could avoid you or that you would ignore me. I didn’t bother learning much more about you because I couldn’t think of why I would need to.”

The big man laughed and shook his head with a grin. “You might have been right if you were someone else. Remi put you in the middle of us. As the mate of one of my pack you’ll have to learn.”

Genevieve tilted her head. 

He looked at Remi, “You have a lot of explaining to do. You should stay the night and see how much you can get done.”

“If she’ll let me.” Remi looked like he might be holding his breath.

“If you don’t mind sleeping on the sofa…” The thought of him sleeping over made her mouth dry. She wasn’t sure if she was excited or afraid at the prospect.

His face lit up. “That’s fine. Being close is enough.”

“Vivi!” Brandon came back holding up a can of RC. “The last can. Apparently, you’re not the only oddball here.”

“RC is good! It has a flavor! You’re the oddball, Mr. Diet Mr. Pibb.” She pulled a face at him as she opened the can.

“You can taste it?” Remi asked curiously.

Swallowing her swig of drink, she nodded. “Yeah, it has something in it that actually registers nicely. And I can taste, it’s just kind of dampened.”

Sipping her drink she let Remi take her around to meet members of his pack, offering her hand and feeling their wariness each time they accepted. After she’d been taken around to everyone, including most of the men she’d met at the shop under less than ideal circumstances, Remi seemed very pleased. 

“I think they like you.” 

She could feel he was trying to phrase their lack of immediate dislike in a positive light.

“No. They like you. They don’t know me and they’re wary. I can feel they have some reason to be.” Looking at his concerned face she reassured him, “I don’t mind it. I’m not good with strangers either. Shaking hands was more physical contact than I’ve had with strangers in years.” Her exhaustion was setting in again. “I usually try not to touch people.”

“You look like you might fall over.” He was standing close, holding her elbow. 

“There’s been a lot of excitement for me and a lot of people with loud energy. It’s like going from a room where most people are quietly talking to one where everyone is trying to talk over each other. I’m not used to the noise at this volume.” In the firelight, his concern looked like anger. If she couldn’t feel it so clearly it would have made her nervous. “It’s just something that will take getting used to. No one is doing anything wrong.”

He inched a little closer. “Do you need to rest?”

Being the reason for a party to end was one of the crappiest feelings. She shook her head and looked over at the fire. “Everyone is having fun, I’m fine.”

“Brandon said you won’t say anything until you actually,” he sighed. “He said you go blank.”

“It’s like being behind glass. When you get too tired you fall over after awhile, your body shuts down because it has to. It’s the same thing. If you leave me somewhere quiet for long enough I come back out. My room is quiet, I made it that way.”

“How?” 

“I don’t think you would understand.” Genevieve smiled and shook her head. “But it’s insulated in there, protected.”

Remi nodded slowly. “That’s why you didn’t hear anyone out here or in the living room?”

“I should have heard the sounds. It’s not a soundproofed room, I remember I didn’t even have the energy to go shut the car after I dragged everything in. I think I needed the sleep.”

“I think you needed more than you got.” He reached up to touch her ponytail. “I’ll send them home.”

“I am not going to be the reason a party ends!” She tried to give him a bright smile. “I need more caffeine and I’ll be fine.”

Two Pepsis later, she was sitting by the fire as it died down listening to someone they’d been calling Eli pick at a guitar when the glass started to come down. Remi was standing, talking behind her and she hoped that Brandon would catch it before he did. To her relief Brandon seemed to see it as it was happening and pulled Remi aside immediately. 

She could see them out of the corner of her eye but the world had gone silent. The fire flickered without a sound and she knew if she tried to move it would feel like she was drowning in molasses. Breathing and waiting was all she could do. The quiet felt so good after all the noise, even if she ended up being embarrassed about it the relief was almost worth it.

Brandon sat next to her and pulled her hand up to hold it. She tried to turn her head to look at him and saw someone shudder. He was doing damage control, she guessed, talking to people and trying to make this seem more normal than it was. Genevieve stopped trying to move. More than once she’d been told watching her try to move was creepy.

Someone seemed to be putting out the fire and people were leaving. Mr. Germain came by and spoke to her, she could see his lips moving. After that he looked up behind her and she was lifted. Staring up at the sky made her feel like she was going to fall up into it. She tried to close her hands on something, anything and felt someone take her hand as she was carried inside. They let go going through the door, but the feeling had passed once the ceiling was there. 

Laid on her bed, she could feel her shoes being taken off. Remi looked almost sick with worry as he pulled the ponytail out, probably at Brandon’s suggestion.

Brandon ran his hand over her face making her eyes shut in self defense. He wanted her to go to sleep. Despite all the soda and the sudden need to pee now that she couldn’t really move, it wasn't that difficult to fall into the quiet darkness.

Genevieve woke up with a start from a dream about urgently trying to find a clean toilet in a maze of stomach-turningly nasty bathroom stalls. She bolted for the bathroom, not even switching on the lights. The light in the living room turned itself on after a moment.

“Genevieve? Are you ok?” Remi had apparently stayed to keep an eye on her.

Trying not to laugh at the awkwardness of it she called through the door she hadn’t shut behind her, “I’m fine. I, um, had to pee.”

She heard him laugh. 

“Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, thanks, there are angels singing in my bladder.” Finishing, she washed up. 

Outside the door, Remi was waiting with a half smile. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“I wouldn’t be up if I wasn’t better.” Her reply didn’t seem to reassure him.

“I talked to Brandon. He said he knew you were going to go down when he saw you shaking hands with everyone, he also said you would try to brush it off because it embarrasses you.”

“It’s wonderful and awful having a friend who knows how I am.” Crossing her arms she leaned back against the bathroom door frame. “So how bad was it? All of your friends and family think I’m super creepy now?”

“Fragile. Alpha Germain is going to try to ease you into introductions a little more carefully. No more touching, quiet places if you can arrange them.” He studied her face. “You were there and then you weren’t. If I hadn’t been warned and if Brandon hadn’t been there to explain I would have made it worse. I would have taken you to the den.”

“I’m sorry. I should have known better than to try to push myself I just-”

“Want to be normal.” Remi frowned at her. “Brandon told me.”

“I would really love to grab a shower, I feel really gross right now. And then if you don’t mind, could we talk about anything else?” 

He nodded and went back to the living room as she grabbed some clothes from the pile on the bed. A hot shower felt like heaven. She scrubbed herself down and came out feeling like new. Drying off and getting dressed, she almost hoped he would have gotten bored and gone home. Going back to bed sounded really good.

She opened the tiny bathroom window letting out the steam and then came out into the empty living room. A noise from her bedroom made her jump. He was standing next to the bed folding her clothes while he waited.

“You have something against unfolded clothes, I take it?” Genevieve was half teasing as she tossed her dirty clothes in the corner. 

His annoyed look at the rolled bundle on the floor almost made her bounce with amusement. 

“I like things tidy.”

“You are so screwed. I am a mess.” She grinned at him. “Think about getting out while you can.”

“It’s already too late.” Remi looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or try to explain. “As soon as I saw you and smelled you I knew you were my mate. I-” He swallowed and put the shirt down. “I need to explain all of it to you, don’t I?”

“Yes. I, um… I like you. I don’t really want to,” she bit her top lip as he moved closer, “but it’s weird, like a connection that opened up.”

“That’s almost exactly what it is. Why do you chew on your top lip?”

“I don’t know. What lip do you chew on?”

“I don’t.”

Nodding, she moved toward the door. “Can we go sit on the sofa? Otherwise I’m going to sit on the bed and probably fall asleep again.”

“If you’re tired…” He frowned looking at her as if she were some kind of invalid.

“It’s the middle of the night, isn’t it?” Genevieve narrowed her eyes at him. “I am not a delicate flower, I hate that s**t.” 

Settling on the sofa Remi came to sit near her but not touching. After a few minutes of silence he asked, “So, how seriously do you take the… card thing?” 

“It’s not something you can take to the bank if that’s what you mean. But it’s like … let’s say you’re running a big factory. There are things you want done but it’s up to the workers to make the end product.” 

He leaned closer, putting his arm around the back of the sofa. “The outcome isn’t guaranteed.”

“No. The Outcome is kind of like what the universe wants, what ought to be. Sometimes things go sideways. I like Mr. Germain’s chances though.” Genevieve gave him a smile and patted his leg before pulling her hand back. “The World is a… a big card. It’s the completion of cycles, rebirth and things coming into fruition. Inner contentment and lasting success.”

“I think he’d find that comforting.” His arm curled resting his hand on her shoulder. 

It felt remarkably comfortable. A soothing weight. She exhaled realizing she was holding her breath. Remi moved closer, closing the gap, until his thigh was touching hers. 

“If I get too close, tell me. I just want to be near.”

“I can-I can feel that. You’re loud. Like yelling in my ear.”

“I’m sorry. Tell me if you need to go back to your room.”

“You can’t help it. I feel that too. And I will.” Rubbing her face she bent over and sighed. His hand came to rest on her back and she laughed ruefully. “Is it that bad?”

“What?” Remi wasn’t sure if he should be amused or comforting. 

“When you put your hand on my back it felt like you were trying to keep me from falling off of a roof.”

“It’s that bad.” He pulled her up and against his side, not moving until she started to relax. “Every time you pull away or curl up like that, I just-I just want to pull you close and make you feel safe.”

“Part of me wants that. And the rest of me is waiting for the shoe to drop.” Genevieve rested her head on his chest and tried to get comfortable, leaning against him. 

“What can I do?” Remi’s words were quiet, breathlessly pleading. “This is what I want. You, comfortable, with me. Like this.”

“You’re doing it. You’re being patient, calm, and kind. The problem is with me, I keep expecting you to stop.” She started to lift her head and he wrapped both arms around her and squeezed until she thought he might crush her.

“I’m not going to stop.” He rubbed his chin over her head. It gave her a strange feeling, and it seemed to thrill him.

“What are you doing? That feels… odd, but nice.” She shivered as he half growled, half groaned and did it again.

“Marking you with my scent.”

“I wish I could smell you. It would be nice to know if you smell good or if I now smell like roadkill.”

He snorted. “How do you pick your soaps?”

“I go with the cheapest thing that gets me clean and doesn’t turn me into a giant skin flake. Why?”

“You smell terrible when you come out of the shower. Roadkill might be an improvement.” 

“Tsk.” Genevieve tried to straighten up but he held her close and rubbed on her again. “I thought I smelled bad.”

“I’m fixing it.” Remi was teasing. “You smell good to me when the chemical smells wear off.”

“The soap smells chemical?”

“Yes.”

“Well… If you leave some of whatever you use here I’ll give it a try.”

“Can I… Can I leave other things here?” Remi’s hands were massaging her back. “Clothes, anything with my scent?”

“You want to move in?” She could almost see the red flag popping up. 

“No. I live with my pack. I want anyone walking in to know I’m not far from you.”

“That’s-that’s too much too fast.” 

He nodded and kissed her head, his arms were like iron bands. “Tell me when I go too fast. I-”

“Let me up?” As soon as she asked Remi released her and looked sheepish. “I like you.” She stood and tried to shake off some of the excess energy clinging to her. “It’s just a lot. And I’m not-not-”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. You managed to pick out the person with the most baggage in town. If you apologize every time you trip on it you’ll only ever be apologizing.” Genevieve gave him a smile.

“I have my own.” He looked at her with a faint smile. “I don’t want to scare you worse than I already did.”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t. Not that I’m trying to give you a challenge to work toward.” It felt good to tease him just a little, his eye sparkled as he grinned. “Do you want something to eat? Someone apparently put food in here and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with all of this.”

Remi stood up a little stiffly and came to lean on her counter as she looked at the packed refrigerator. “What do you want to eat?” He asked, looking at her with a smile. 

“I can’t taste things well so I’m usually good with frozen and canned stuff as long as the texture is ok. This is all fresh and I feel Iike I’m looking at a rubiks cube. Next paycheck I’m going to get a phone I can use to look up recipes.”

“I can cook.” Remi was grinning. “I’m not great at it but-”

“I won’t know the difference.” She grinned back at him. “That’s a perk.”

He winced and nodded. “I’d rather you could taste and smell, and tell me my food is no good than eat anything I make without complaining.”

“I won’t eat anything you make, I’m not fond of omelets. I can deal with the ones that just have cheese in them or maybe bacon. The more people put in them the more gross they get.” Genevieve pulled a face.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He started putting things together on the counter. Tiny tomatoes, a green bell pepper, frozen corn, fish. “You can help. I need a little more than a cup of corn I think. And the tomatoes need to be washed and halved.”

“I can do that.” The new measuring cup had already been washed and she put it on the counter and filled it to about a cup and a quarter.

Scrutinizing the cup, Remi offered, “A little more won’t hurt.” She handed him the bag. And went to wash the tomatoes. He was pressed against her back before the water was on. “I didn’t mean to take over.”

“You know what you’re doing and I don’t. If you need a certain amount you should be the one pouring it. I’m not in a huff.” Genevieve turned her head trying to look at him hoping he would move. Pressed like that wasn’t physically unpleasant but she felt trapped.

Stepping back he looked almost hurt. “You’re afraid?”

“Being pushed against the sink like that made me feel… trapped.” 

Remi was quiet as he poured a little more corn into the measuring cup and waited for her to finish at the sink before he washed the pepper. The sound of the vegetables being cut was the only real noise in the house. Closing her eyes for a moment she could feel the fluttering anger and pain. None of it was directed at her.

“Are you alright?” He was looking at her with concern when she opened her eyes. 

She felt a little embarrassed. “I was actually checking on you. You’re not very happy with yourself right now.”

“How?” He looked at her with a faint smile. “How were you checking on me?”

“I can feel you some. When I try I can…” She closed her eyes and turned her head toward him as he leaned forward wanting her to feel some very specific things. Her face was flushing, she could feel it. “You are terrible. Tell me if you can feel…” Raising her hand, she touched the edge of his energy with her own.

His kiss took her by surprise. It was almost too toothy at first. Remi was almost panting in her ear after he broke the kiss. “Do that again.”

“Why did that feel like-” She shivered and pulled back enough to kiss him, feeling his face change slightly under her hands. 

“If you do that again I’m going to need to undress.” He was kissing her face and his hands were rubbing her back urgently.

“Show me.” Genevieve whispered, almost unsure if she really wanted to see. That changed as he stripped off his shirt. The way his muscles moved under his golden brown skin was mesmerizing. 

“Do you want to eat first or?” His pants fell to the kitchen floor and he stepped out of them with a grin.

“You’re going to cook for me, and you’re volunteering to do it naked?” She knew her face must be red because it was entirely too warm in the kitchen now.

“You like that idea.” He looked like a grinning god, standing tall and very aware of his appeal. Remi pulled her close against his skin and inhaled. “You really like that idea.” 

She could feel his c**k stiffening against her hip where he was pressing it. “What are you making?”

“Do you want to undress and cook with me?” Remi whispered into her ear.

“I think,” she really did and she really didn’t, “I think I just want to watch.”

“Ok.” He kissed her head and rubbed his chin over it. “Go over there and watch.”

Leaning on the counter she watched the way he moved, confident and calm. The new baking sheet was pulled out and everything but the fish was put on it carefully with olive oil drizzled over it before he put it in the oven. The fish he generously covered with a spice mix that had been bought for her. 

“It’s probably too much seasoning, but I want you to be able to taste it.” He looked at her with a smile as he went to wash his hands again. 

“Thank you.” 

“The salmon goes in in a few minutes, the vegetables need a head start cooking.”

Tilting her head, she almost opened her mouth to tell him she didn’t make fish on her own, but he would probably ask why and be upset that she didn’t like fish. Closing her mouth she smiled. 

His eyes narrowed as if he’d read her face, “You don’t like fish.”

“I eat it because it’s easier than arguing and I can’t taste it anyway.” She shrugged and tried to keep the embarrassed smile off of her face. 

“But you won’t eat omelets?” He was smiling with a hand on his hip.

“That’s a matter of texture. I don’t like textures jumbled together.” She made a face and then returned his smile. “People seem to get very upset when you say you don’t eat fish. Not so much when you tell them you’d rather just have scrambled eggs or a cheese omelet.”

“Who would be upset if you didn’t like fish?” He grinned and came around to lean against her from behind. Stopping when he felt her tense.

“Why do you like to be behind me?” She turned and let him lean back against the counter stepping forward into his embrace. It was strange but she didn’t feel trapped. There was too much quiet for a few moments. “If you say you don’t like fish, people start telling you about how healthy it is and how you’ve probably never had it cooked the way they cook it. ‘You’re sure to love it if you would just try my recipe.’” Imitating the condescending tones she’d heard every time the subject had come up was still easy. “I can’t taste the gross fishy taste anymore, so why bother arguing?”

“If you don’t like it you shouldn’t have to eat it. I’ll make sure it doesn’t end up in your fridge anymore.”

With her eyes closed she could feel his resolve. He wanted to take care of her, he felt protective and, yes, possessive. But it wasn’t one sided. He wanted her to want to possess him the same way.

“What are you doing?” He asked softly.

“Being nosy.” Opening her eyes she looked up at him with a rueful smile. “I haven’t met anyone like you.”

“It’s not fair that you can be nosy and I can’t.” His right eye was a glowing golden color again. “What are you looking at?”

“I was looking at the way you feel toward me. You’re resolved to take care of me, protective and,” Genevieve couldn't keep the flush off of her cheeks, “possessive. But it isn’t something one sided you want me to return the-”

Remi cut her off with a kiss again. “You keep looking at me and I want to look at you.” His hands cupped and squeezed her a*s cheeks firmly. “Let me look with my eyes and my nose.” The depth of the kiss he pulled her into was impressive. “My tongue. Let me look.”

Her hesitant nod wasn’t what he was looking for, she could tell immediately. “It feels too fast, but I do-I do want you to.”

“Don’t let me push you, I don’t want you to give in because it’s easier.” His voice was almost a growl. 

“I don’t mind the pushing.” His frown at her words was almost intimidating. “If you don’t push I’ll stay stuck where I am.” He blinked and looked pensive as she continued. “I promise I won’t give in because it’s easier, only because I want to.”

“If it feels too fast I’ll wait.” It felt so strange. He wasn’t angry or frustrated, not at waiting.

“Come here.” She pulled back and took him to the sofa. Sitting down she held his hand inches over her head. “Close your eyes, just tell me what you feel.” He tried to put his hand on her head. “No. Not on, above. You’re feeling for energy.” With her eyes closed, she tried to bring the edge of his energy to the edge of hers.

“What is that?”

“That’s me.” She reached up and pulled his hand in front of her brow. “Do you feel it?”

“I don’t understand what that is, my fingers are tingling.”

Genevieve grinned. “Chakras. Like hubs of energy.” Bringing his hand to her throat she felt that he was trying in earnest now, wanting to press into it. “Careful, you don’t want to jab, but you can… here like this.” She reached out and with her hand not touching him she caressed his solar hub and heard him growl. “I’m not good at teaching. I’m sorry.” Drawing back her hand and opening her eyes he looked at her as if she’d kicked him.

“Don’t stop. Show me.”

“You growled.” Her head tilted as she looked up at him.

“I wasn’t expecting it. It didn’t hurt.” Remi stroked her face.

“At the shop they have some books… Um, maybe I should show you what I’m doing in a book before,” she gestured back and forth between them.

“I want to feel it.”

Laying back she blushed, turned to lay on her side and patted the sofa. “It might be easier.”

“I’m not going to fit next to-”

The pounding on the door startled them both. Remi moved to answer it before she could warn him not to. The way he leaned with his arm barring the way toward her as he opened the door part way made her realize he had an inkling that whoever was on the other side was not friendly.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Even naked he looked magnificently imposing. 

“Who are you?” Nate’s angry voice made her shudder, she was all too familiar with it. “Get out of my way, the w***e you’re f*****g-”

Remi’s low growl cut off Nate’s words and made the room feel colder. 

“Neevie, tell this son of a b***h to leave. You need to talk to me. You owe me.”

“No.” It came out as a whisper and she cleared her throat and said it louder, “NO. I don’t owe you anything. I only took a few of the things I brought into the duplex with me, I left you everything else. I didn’t even take any money out of the joint account.” Genevieve took a deep breath. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you ever again. Leave, Nate.”

“You really thought you could just slip out and I wouldn’t come looking? After all the time and money I put into turning you into something worth keeping.” He tried to push the door open completely but with Remi holding it, it didn’t budge at all. “Do you really think I’m going to put in the effort and let somebody else reap the reward?”

“She said leave. Give me an excuse to make you flinch the way she does.” Remi’s low voice was more menacing than any enraged shout she’d ever heard, but it was on her behalf, it felt like being in a safe place while a storm passed by.

She waited for Nate to raise his voice, cursing or threatening. Nothing. The two of them just stood with eyes locked and Nate broke first after just a moment of silence. Remi shut the door and turned toward her, she could feel he expected her to be afraid.

“That was… amazing. I have never seen him back down, he can usually bully anyone he comes across.”

His smile spread slowly as he came back to the sofa. “I will protect you, no one will hurt you.” A warm tingling of desire started in her lower belly and she watched his face split into a wide grin. “You like that more than me cooking naked.”

“Oh my god, cooking!” She leapt off of the sofa to check on the vegetables in the oven. 

“They’re not burned. It’s time to put the salmon in though.” He pulled her close for a kiss first. “I’m cooking. You’re watching.” 

“Mm,” letting her hands move lightly over his bare chest as she returned his kiss she could feel his c**k hardening again and pressing firmly against her through her clothes. “You can cook with that in the way?”

Remi started to laugh low in his throat, “If I have to. Or do you want me to put my pants back on?”

“Not a chance.” She grinned up at him. 

Backing her toward the counter, he kissed her until she was breathless and then lifted her to sit on it and watch him. “Stay put or nothing will get done.”

Crossing her legs, she found herself debating whether or not she wanted him to sleep on the couch tonight after all. He looked flawless from behind, his skin… “You don’t have tan lines. Do you do a lot of nude sunbathing?”

He put the tray back in the oven and turned with a grin. “I do a lot of things nude. Though not for such an admiring audience.” Caressing her closed legs, he didn’t try to push them open or to put his hand between them. “You ask about tan lines but you haven’t asked about my face.”

“I don’t like it when people ask about my scars, they’re,” Genevieve reached out and touched his face gently, “they’re personal even if they’re obvious.”

Pressing her hand to his face and turning to kiss it, Remi squeezed her thigh. “I want you to ask. I want you to want to know me.”

“I do want to know you.” Taking a deep breath she asked, “What happened? One of the few things I thought I knew about-about werewolves was that they heal really fast and really well.”

“Yes. I need to teach you about a lot of things.” He sighed and she opened her legs to let him come forward, the urge to wrap her arms around him was overpowering. She could feel he needed it. Letting him hold her and keeping her arms around his waist, he continued, “I used to belong to a different pack. The Alpha…” She heard the hesitation, he wanted to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t make her afraid, “lost his bearings and turned on his own. My face got torn up, and I lost the eye. The wound didn’t heal properly and left a scar.”

“You’re not telling me half of it, I can feel that. But I understand how hard scars are to talk about.” Pulling away from him he looked as though he might tell her more but she pulled off her shirt and leaned forward against him again letting him get a look at her back. “The burn is from when I was a teenager. It’s what got me removed from my mother and how I met Brandon.” His hand was moving over her back.

“And the long scar that looks like a cut?” His quiet voice sounded flat.

“I was dating someone who thought,” she took a breath as he began to rub her back, feeling his helpless anger already growing, “he thought that I was faking shutting down like you saw me do. So he took a knife to my back to prove it.”

Remi was squeezing her tightly, hunting for something to say.

“I think he was madder that I didn’t scream, that I sort of fell over instead of ran. He kicked me once or twice before someone stopped him.”

“You couldn’t move.” His voice was hoarse.

“Not much, and not well. It’s like drowning in molasses. I was taken to a hospital which… kept me from being able to come back out. Brandon came as soon as he heard and made the room quiet. I don’t know how long it would have taken if he hadn’t. They didn’t know what was wrong with me. They thought it was some kind of absence seizures, maybe.”

“You can teach that? Making the room quiet?”

Nodding against his chest, Genevieve murmured, “Yes. I’m used to relying on Brandon but I can teach you if you want.”

“Please, I want to learn.” He kissed her head. “I don’t like the way Brandon treats you sometimes, but I can see that he’s a good friend.”

“He really is.”

“Was the one who cut you the one who gave you the concussion?”

“No. The one who made me lose my sense of smell came later. I didn’t stay with the one who cut me after he did it.”

“They’ve all been bad. Every one you chose?”

“Pretty much. Some worse than others. Brandon’s mom said I was looking for safety in the wrong places. That I wanted someone strong to make me feel safe but I hadn’t really had strength around me before and I didn’t know what it looked like.”

“Brandon said you were here for years before you left. If I had found you first…”

“I think I lived near here for five years, mostly with his family. If you had found me first I would be someone else. I wouldn't have had to learn a lot of hard lessons, but I would have missed a lot of good things too.” Kissing his chest felt right. Remi slid his hand up her bare back and rubbed the back of her head under her hair. “Not everything has been terrible.”

“Good.” The massage of the back of her head was putting her to sleep. “Are you falling asleep on me? Before you eat?”

“Mm, maybe. Rubbing my head like that…”

“The food is ready to come out, sit up, Genevieve.” His amusement was coupled with kisses to the top of her head as he pushed her up. He tied her shirt around his hips like a very short apron with a wolfish grin. 

“Oh! Pot holders!” She blinked realizing he hadn't used any.

“You don't have any yet. It's fine for me, but you'll need some if you want to cook.” The baking sheet came out and he inhaled before nodding. “Done. Get plates?”

“Let me figure out where Brandon put them…” Genevieve started opening cabinets filled with things like flour and sugar, spices, and vegetable oil. “Apparently, I need to learn how to bake too? I'm going to be buying recipe books in self-defense.”

Remi laughed and opened the cabinet with the plates. “What did you learn if it wasn't cooking?”

“Let’s see, I learned more about making stained glass art, and I’m pretty decent at it. There’s yoga, I taught that for awhile, belly dancing, a little bit of tarot, crystals, energy healing, I think I learned more witch stuff from non-witches… I can do a little bit of jewelry making.”

“Is that all?” He handed her a plate with fish, tiny roasted tomatoes, corn filled bell pepper rings, and a fork on it.

“I was in a band for about a minute too.”

“You play an instrument?” He leaned on the counter to eat looking at her with interest.

“Ha! I wish. No, I was the singer.” Genevieve took a bite and after a moment continued. “Brandon hated it.”

“Why?” The dubious look on his face almost made her choke on her mouthful of tomatoes. He was almost willing to trust Brandon’s opinion without hearing more.

“The band was called Sibulla. If that tells you anything.” She shrugged with a smile.

“It doesn’t.” 

“‘The Sibyl, with frenzied mouth uttering things not to be laughed at, unadorned and unperfumed, yet reaches to a thousand years with her voice by aid of the god.’ That’s the quote that inspired the name. And one of the guys saw a documentary or something that talked about a Sibyl chained to the floor of the cave where she gave her prophecies. That gave us our aesthetic.”

“You sang in chains?”

“I sang chained to a metal plate on the stage.” Nodding emphatically as she continued, “Kind of twitching and thrashing. The videos I watched kind of creeped me out and I was the one being filmed.” She took a big bite of fish as he stared at her with a frown. “It was very goth.”

“I folded a t-shirt. Sibulla.” 

“It’s from the band, yes. I was a little sad when we disbanded.”

“How could you perform without shutting down?” He wasn’t looking any happier about it and Genevieve was sure he wasn’t going to.

“Part of the stage persona was that no one could approach the Sibyl. And I did shut down, usually after shows. I would spend time alone in the quiet beforehand to make sure I could get through it.”

“You put yourself through that over and over again? Why would you do that?” Remi growled at her.

“I liked being able to-” The growl got louder. “You and Brandon are going to get along great. He gets so mad at me when I don’t take care of myself.”

“You’re going to take care of yourself now.” His right eye was gold and his tone was not one to be argued with.

“If Brandon could do that thing you’re doing with your eye I might have listened to him more.” Genevieve gave him an impish grin.

“I should get you put to bed. It’s late and Brandon said he’d be back early to check on you, before he goes in to work.”

“You can, um,” she took a breath, “You don’t have to sleep on the sofa.”

“I want you to be sure. I don’t mind waiting. Being close is enough.” He came around the counter and took her plate setting it next to his by the sink. “It’s a comfortable sofa.”

Following him to the sink, Genevieve gingerly wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his back. “I’m sure I want you to sleep in my bed with me. More than sleeping I’m not-not sure about.”

“Then sleep is all we’ll do.” Leaving the plates, Remi walked with her to the bedroom. He untied her shirt from his hips and tried to hand it back but she shook her head. 

She stacked the clothes he’d folded back in the basket clearing space on the bed. “I thought the double bed would be plenty big enough when I bought it. I wasn’t planning on sharing it.”

“It’s big enough. Having you next to me is more than I hoped for tonight.”

Curling against him in the dark, Genevieve kissed his chest and sighed contentedly as he began rubbing the back of her head.