I feel his faint annoyance through our bond, but it’s better than the tension that’s taken up place between us since he promised to stop locking his feelings away.
When I join him in his silly dance, he keeps dancing long after the command has worn off, making dramatic movements that make me laugh. Soon, he’s laughing too. It’s been far too long since I’ve heard him laugh, and I silence the sound only for a kiss. He takes that as the invitation it was meant to be as and kisses me deeply, gathering me to his hard body. His scent spikes, not bitter with fear, but as brightas the summer sun, as his mood lifts as we flip between silly dances and serious kisses.
If only he could feel this way forever. If only he didn’t have to worry about his parents’ captivity.
My face must fall, because his expression follows, his face going bleak with fear.
I hold him then, on the floor of the practice room, late into the night before we finally make it up into my nest.
“I hatethe thought of forcing thoughts into your head,” Ian grumbles, “but I see no other way to teach you to shield yourself from the unwanted thoughts of others. So, to make this easier on both of us, I’m going to try to force sigils into your mind. If you fail to block the thought, tell me the sigil. If you can’t tell me the sigil, I’ll assume you’ve managed to shield your mind effectively. Shall we begin?”
I nod resolutely. If the work I can do with Ian can protect me against my father’s mental warfare, then it’s sorely needed. I hate that my father knows so many of my weaknesses, that he knows he can use his thoughts against me, threats to my pack against me. Threats to omegas.
“First, don’t shield your mind. We need to make sure I can do this,” Ian says, frowning thoughtfully. He concentrates for a moment, and a sigil pops into my mind without me having to read him.
“Adteneire.” I respond with a small wince.
“Have I hurt you, my darling?”
I shake my head. “It’s just intense. That’s all.”
I draw my affinity up around my mind like a shield and nod for Ian to continue.
His first three sigils sail right through my shields and searinto my mind, and I shake my head to clear it as I name the sigils.
I envision my shield once more, putting more of the power of my affinity behind it and block the next three, though my head starts to ache.
We work late into the night until I can hide my headache no longer. Ian chides me for keeping it from him, swoops me up in his arms and carries me to my nest, settling me against his body so he can gently rub my throbbing temples.
He presses a sweet kiss to my lips. “You did phenomenal work this evening, Juniper. I think you’re well equipped to handle anything your father sends your way this Friday.”
Saints, I hope so.
The final affinitytraining I work on, I do with Marcus. I’m still practicing reading reticent minds so I can better steal the thoughts from my father’s head. Any kernel of information I can take from him could help us. He’s used my affinity against me countless times now; it’s my turn to use my affinity againsthim.
Marcus and I sit down cross-legged across from each other on the mat in the practice room, our knees nearly brushing.
“If it hurts, please tell me,” I plead. “Don’t act all stoic and pretend you’re not hurting?”
“Stoic? Me?”
I roll my eyes at him. “You’re not allowed to hide from me anymore.”
He leans forward and pulls me in for a kiss. “Never. I swear it. Now, let’s get down to work.”
I sit back and gather my affinity like I’ve done so manytimes before. When it wells up inside me, flowing through me, I extend the smallest thread into Marcus’ mind. In what practice we’ve already done, I’ve determined he has somewhat of a natural shield, but it’s not fully formed. There are gaps and cracks I can use to slip into his head and glean his thoughts.
I gather a few surface thoughts at first. He thinks I look cute with my hair in a messy bun like this. He wants to kiss me instead of training, but he’s holding back. When I slip further into his mind, I catch a few thoughts of his mother, then delve even deeper, but his deepest thoughts? They’re all about me.
He thinks I’m brave and beautiful, that I have integrity and grit. Though he’s afraid for me, he’s proud that I’m pursuing teaching the omegas and planning on taking down my father.
I go deeper still until I’m awash in his love for me. For the way I smile up at the sky on sunny days, how I scrunch my nose when I read. How sexy I am when I come. How privileged he feels to have been invited to that night in my nest. He’s never wanted anyone like this, nor could he ever. He’s happiest when I’m in his arms, when my scent is in his nose and his in mine.
And then I find his most ardent thought: he wants me to be his. His omega, his mate. He dreams of biting me, marking me as his. Forever and ever, whether that means days or decades. I slip from his mind with tears in my eyes.
“Marcus,” I say, my voice watery. “I think we’ve waited long enough. Make me yours.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
