The heightened senses are getting easier to manage. I can filter out the bird sounds now, and scents no longer overwhelm me. Tolin says it will keep settling, that eventually I’ll be able to control it completely. For now, I’m just grateful I can walk through the cabin without wincing at every creak of the floorboards.
The bond is something else entirely.
I feel him constantly now. A warm presence in the backof my mind, like a second heartbeat. When he’s happy, I feel it. When he’s aroused, I definitely feel it. It should be invasive, having someone else’s emotions bleeding into mine. Instead it feels like coming home.
Something catches my attention and I turn my head toward the window. The quality of light is different this morning. Brighter. Sharper. No wind rattling the glass. No snow battering the roof.
I sit up slowly, Tolin’s arm sliding from my waist to my lap, and look outside.
The storm is over.
The world beyond the glass is white and still, the snow glittering under a clear blue sky. No clouds. No wind. Just endless bright winter stretching out in every direction.
The bed shifts behind me and then he’s wrapping himself around me from behind, his nose burying in my hair.
“You’re awake,” he rumbles.
“The storm stopped.”
He lifts his head to look out the window, his chin resting on my shoulder. “So it did.”
“What happens now?”
He’s quiet for a moment. Between us, his emotions swirl: contentment fighting against reluctance.
“What do you want to happen?”
I turn in his arms so I can see his face. He looks soft in the morning light, his eyes still heavy-lidded, the tension usually in his face smoothed away. The scar on his face doesn’t look so harsh anymore. It just looks like part of him.
“I’m not leaving,” I say.
Something eases in his expression. “Good.”
“But I need to handle some things in town. My apartment. My job.” I trace a finger along his collarbone. “Ishould probably tell Derrick I’m not coming back to Shadow Suds.”
Tolin goes still at Derrick’s name. I feel a spike of something through the bond. Irritation. Possessiveness.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.” I poke his chest. “I felt that. What’s wrong with Derrick?”
“Nothing’s wrong with him.”
“Then why do you get all growly every time I mention his name?”
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. I feel the jealousy coiled tight inside him, ready to strike.
“Oh my God.” I sit up straighter. “You’re jealous. Of Derrick.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“You absolutely are. I can literally feel it, Tolin. The bond doesn’t lie.”
He scowls, looking away. “He has a crush on you.”
“What?”
