That gets a ghost of a smile. “She’s convinced you don’t eat enough.”
I roll my eyes. “Which is the most bizarre thing ever. I’ve been battling this weight since I was a teenager. My mom put me on my first diet when I was thirteen years old. No one has, ever, ever suggested that I don’t eat enough.”
He looks me up and down, lingering on my ass. “You’re perfect exactly the way you are.”
The words come out matter-of-fact, like he’s stating an obvious truth rather than making my heart stutter in my chest.
“Um…dinner?”
He nods in agreement. “Let me change and shower first.”
Thirty minutes later he’s updating me while I reheat dinner. The perimeter is still secure. There was no movement today. The evidence goes public in four days, which I must admit makes me nervous. He’s careful about what he tells me, I’ve noticed. Giving me enough to understand the situation without drowning me in details that will keep me up at night.
I don’t push for more than he gives. I know he’s protecting me from the worst of it. I also know that protection is a language he speaks fluently and fighting him on it would be pointless.
We eat the dinner Maggie brought, which is some kind of stew with root vegetables and tender meat that falls apart on my fork. It tastes wonderful. Dinah weaves between our legs, hoping for scraps. Keric sneaks her a piece of meat when he thinks I’m not looking.
I wave a spoon at him. “I saw that,” I say.
He grins, exposing more of his white tusks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re going to spoil her.”
“She deserves to be spoiled.”
The normalcy of it—the bickering, the shared meal, the cat begging for food—feels fragile. Precious. Like something I need to hold carefully or it might shatter.
After dinner,we sit by the fire.
Not touching, but close enough that I can feel heat radiating off his large body. We were going to watch a movie together, but neither of us has turned on the TV. Silence stretches between us, but it’s not uncomfortable.
Keric breaks it first. “When this is over,” he says, his voice low and rough, “when the evidence is public and the threat is gone what do you want out of life?”
My breath catches.
I’ve been avoiding this question, deliberately not thinking about it because “I don’t know” feels like a lie now. If I leave Keric, his commune, his parents and the friends I’ve made here, I’d return to an empty apartment. I miss my students and I loved my job but…
I start twirling my hair. “Um…I’ve been thinking about staying.” The words come out before I can stop them.
Keric goes very still. “Staying?”
“Yes. Here. On the commune. I...” I falter, suddenly nervous. “I like it here. I like your family. I like?—”
“Anna.” His voice is rough. Raw. “I need you to understand something.” He turns to face me fully, and those dark eyes are more intense than I’ve ever seen them. “You know I want you as my Bride and the mother of my future children. But only if you want this,” he continues. “Only if you choose it. I won’t trap you. I won’t?—”
“Keric.”
He stops.
I scoot across the couch and close the distance between us. My hand comes up to cup his face, my fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the roughness of his skin.
His eyes flutter closed for just a moment, like my touch is something he’s been starving for.
“I’m still not ready to say forever yet,” I tell him. “Mainly because we’re in the midst of all this danger and it makes me worry that I’m still not ready to promise something I can’t take back.”
His jaw tightens under my palm, as if he’s preparing himself for rejection.
“But you have to understand I’m not saying no,” I continue. “I’m saying I’m getting there. I’m closer than I’ve ever been.”
