Picking up a rock lying near the tent, I withdraw the pocketknife I inherited from my father from my pants and start sharpening it in a ploy to keep myself busy and calm my racing thoughts. The sound of metal sliding against rock is surprisingly soothing, and it offers the feeling that I’m in control of at leastoneaspect of my life; how sharp I make this blade.
The gentle night breeze stirs my hair, tickling the back of my neck. Aside from the faint echoes of leaves rustling on their branches and the occasional call of an owl, the night is as silent as it is dark. It’s as if the entire forest knows it’s playing host to predators, and the nocturnal creatures have decided to hide away—even the insects. The only light comes from the faint beams of the moon, overshadowed by the occasional cloud.
“I hope you’re not intending to use that on me,” a highly irritating familiar voice calls out.
I look up to see Camden standing outside of his tent—maybe twenty-five feet away from mine—hands in his pockets, his posture as regal as always. His shoulders are squared, his dark hair is wind-tousled, and he appears ready to go to battle. Which, considering our recent interactions, may well be the case.
“Not unless you give me a reason to,” I inform, and then focus back on sharpening.
When Camden closes the distance between us and takes a seat on the ground across from me, I let out a sigh of pure exhaustion. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“I could say the same to you,” he responds, a note of concern creeping into his tone. “When was the last time you slept?”
Who is he to worry over my sleep schedule when it’s his fault it’s been so disrupted as of late? “Last night.”
“Don’t lie,” he warns, then repeats, “When was the last time you slept?”
I give him a sharp look. “None of your business.”
In truth, I haven’t slept since I met Camden. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down in case anything went wrong and either Leisel or I were put in danger. It’s a miracle I managed to ride all day. It’s even more of a miracle that I didn’t fall asleep while reading to Leisel twenty minutes ago. Then again, considering the frazzled state of my mind and growing paranoia… maybe it’s less a miracle and more an indicator of stress.
Camden’s lips thin. “You need to rest or your body will suffer and eventually shut down on you.”
“Probably,” I agree. “I also need to keep myself and my sister safe, which takes precedence.”
Camden cocks his head. “Why would you need to stay up to protect Leisel? You’re both under the direct protection of my pack, which is no small thing. You’re as safe as you can possibly be.”
When we first met, he offhandedly referred to me as a simpleton. Now, it’s my turn to wonder ifheisn’t the fool in this scenario. “If you think being under the protection of your pack makes me feel safe, think again. You’re the greatest danger to us possible.”
Camden looks genuinely confused at my words, cocking his head to the side. “How do you figure that? You’re my mate; I’d give my life to protect you without thinking twice.”
His words sound surprisingly sincere, and what I’ve read on matehood supports them, but that doesn’t make me feel safe in his presence. It doesn’t erase that, thus far, I haven’t exactly received the kindest treatment; not that I’ve treated any mythic I’ve come by kindly either.
“You’ll also whip me with a belt until I’m screaming and kiss me without my consent. I can take that—Leisel couldn’t.”
Camden thinks for a moment, and then his head jerks back and his expression morphs into disgust. “Do you think Wyatt would try to touch Leisel inappropriately? Is that what this is about?”
“Absolutely,” I respond honestly. “You had no compunctions doing it, so it stands to reason he’d be the same way.”
“Sierra, any affection he has towards her right now is brotherly or paternal,” he says, his tone seething with conviction. “Shifters aren’t fucking perverts. It’s only once she’s older and matures that his feelings will shift towards romantic territory.”
I study his face. His expression is genuine and his words sound sincere. Unfortunately, that doesn’t make me believe him. Even if it did, I’d still stay awake to protect Leisel for the simple fact that, no matter how tired I am, I’m too anxious to rest.
“I hope you take offense to this: I don’t believe you. Notice how you glossed over my mention of the whipping and non-consensual touch.”
He lets out a growl of frustration. “You took action with intent tokillme. I had to ensure you wouldn’t do so again. On top of that, if we’re going with blatant honesty here, it’s impossible to ask a shifter to keep their hands away from their mate. Touching you is a compulsion for me; it’s physically painful not to.”
I smile at the thought of that. “Then I guess you’ll get a good education of what it’s like to not have everything you want and to feel pain at the mercy of others.”
Camden’s eyes darken at that. “Don’t pretend to know anything about me, Sierra. I’ve felt pain at the mercy of the fates many times, and I’ve lost things very dear to me.”
For the briefest moment, his words cause a flicker of interest, because there’s an edge of pain to them I’d yet to hear from this Alpha. Then I recall the many horrors his kind has inflicted upon the native residents of Earth and find I don’t particularly care if the King has experienced some hardship.
“So has everyone,” I say dismissively.
Camden leaps to his feet, runs a hand through his hair, and starts pacing back and forth. I watch him cautiously, continuing to sharpen my blade. Thesshrkof sharp steel against stone fills the silence, along with the sounds of Camden’s footsteps crunching over dead leaves and stray twigs.
“Why are you being so difficult?” Camden demands.
