“I did. You were too focused to hear.”
I turned around to look at him properly. He was wearing my grandfather’s clothes. Khakis that fit surprisingly well. A button-down shirt in pale blue that stretched across his shoulders. A navy sweater over it that made his eyes look more gray than red.He’d pulled his hair back in a messy bun, and the style made his cheekbones look even sharper.
He looked good. Too good. It was unfair.
“I’m going to buy supplies,” I said. “Paint. Decorations. Stuff to make this place look less like a funeral home.”
“I will accompany you.”
“No, you’ll stay here. I’ll be back in an hour.”
His expression darkened. “I will not stay.”
“Yes, you will. I gave you clothes and shelter. The least you can do is follow one simple instruction.”
“If you leave, I will shift and follow. I will not be separated from you.”
I stared at him. He stared back. Neither of us moved.
I could feel the headache forming behind my eyes. This was my life now. Arguing with a stubborn werewolf who had the personality of a particularly devoted guard dog.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “You can come. But you have to behave. No growling at people. No shifting. No calling me your mate in public.”
“As you wish, boss.”
The way he said “boss” should not have made my stomach flip. It absolutely should not.
I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. He followed close behind, so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body.
We reached my car. A tiny, beat-up Honda Civic that had seen better days. I unlocked it and opened the driver’s side door.
Malachar stopped dead. Stared at the car as if it were a poisonous viper ready to strike.
“What is that?” His voice had gone low. Wary.
“It’s a car. A vehicle. It takes us places faster than walking.”
“It is alive?”
“What? No. It’s a machine.”
He circled it slowly, keeping his distance. Reached out to touch the hood, then pulled back. “It is warm. And it makes noises.”
“That’s just the metal cooling down from sitting in the sun. It’s perfectly safe.”
He looked deeply skeptical. “You want me to get inside this beast?”
“It’s not a beast, it’s transportation. And yes, unless you want to walk five miles to the hardware store.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I do not trust it.”
“Oh my god.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “It’s perfectly safe. Millions of people use them every day. Look, I’ll get in first, and you’ll see it’s fine.”
I slid into the driver’s seat. Waited. Malachar stood outside, glaring at my car as if it had personally insulted his mother.
“Malachar. Get in the car.”
“I do not wish to.”
