I breathe through the rush of adrenaline, “Um, no I didn’t,” I tell her stiffly, and she nods at me politely.
“Come, sit, we’re just getting ready to serve the first course,” Fedor commands, and he motions to a space on the bench directly across from him. “Muriel informed us that you’ve only been in Belarus for a couple weeks; what brings you to this part of the world?” Fedor asks us as he settles himself on his side of the table.
I’m shocked how easily I understand Fedor and his wife. They have accents, but they’re not so thick that it’s a struggle to follow what they’re saying. I’m insanely curious how they’re English is so good, but I don’t want to be an asshole and risk being rude by asking them.
“Um, we’re here to join some family that was checking out the area,” I answer Fedor’s question vaguely.
I sit down, and Torrez wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me closer to him, which makes Fedor and his mate chuckle. I look around the table, and everyone is sneaking peeks at us and chatting quietly. Manya raises her hand, and on cue, people pour out of the closest cabin, carrying trays overflowing with food. They spread out around the tables that are filled with shifters and start handing out plates. A bread bowl with some type of thick soup or stew is set in front of me, and steam rises off the top, tempting me with its delicious smell. I move to grab the spoon that’s been set next to the plate, but Torrez stills my hand, covering up the movement by intertwining his fingers with mine and bringing our hands back under the table.
I look at him curiously, but he just jerks his head in the direction of the alpha. I pause to look around and realize that everyone is watching him and waiting. Alpha Volkov scoops up the thick soup and shovels a bite into his mouth. He savors it for a moment and then swallows it. He turns to his mate and watches as she does the same thing. When Manya is done with her mouthful of food, the alpha gives a nod, and everyone else sitting at the tables digs into their meal. Torrez releases my hand and reaches for his spoon.
I take a cautious bite of the soup, and it’s all I can do not to spit it out. It’s fucking hot as hell! I form anOwith my lips and breathe rapidly, hoping the cool night air might somehow help the molten food on my tongue burn a little less.Motherfucker.I blink away the water in my eyes and grab the cup in front of me to help ease the second degree burn I just gave my tongue. The smell of beer hits my nose as I take a deep pull from the cup, but the liquid is cool, and I’m pretty sure I just scalded off all of my taste buds, so this beer could taste like rotten piss, and I’m none the wiser.
I don’t miss Torrez’s snicker as he blows on his spoonful of soup and watches me wiggle in discomfort. “The food was steaming, you know. That’s usually an indication that it’s hot,” he teases.
“I’ll have you know that I was lulled into a false sense of security by the big ass bites Fedor and Manya took,” I whisper yell at Torrez, while I try to discreetly fan my tongue with my hand.
A laugh rumbles from his chest, and I ignore what the sound does to my body. I manage to eat the rest of my soup and part of the bread bowl without incident, but I have no idea how it tastes. I suppose that could be one good thing about permanently damaging my ability to assess flavor. Even if they feed me something horrible, I won’t offend them by not eating it because it all tastes like numbness to me.
“So, Torrez, you mentioned that you wereformerlyof the Silas pack. May I ask why you are notcurrentlypart of the Silas pack?” Fedor asks. He wipes his mouth with a cloth napkin and pushes away from the table to give his full stomach a little more room to breathe.
“Well, Alpha, I’m not sure what your pack rules are, but in my former pack, matings were only permitted between shifters. Because Vinna isn’t a shifter, I had to leave the pack to pursue the mating.”
I wave off the guilt that starts to creep into my mind at his words and instead focus on the alpha’s response to Torrez’s explanation.
“Ah I see. We don’t put any major stipulations on our pairings so long as it can result in offspring,” Fedor explains. “Although there are mostly shifters in these parts of the world, so we don’t see as many inter-magic relationships, regardless of the fact that we’re not opposed to them.”
I open my mouth to ask what he means about the relationships having to result in offspring, but Manya cuts me off.
“We noticed she doesn’t carry your scent; is it different for other supes than it is for shifters?” she asks, and I furrow my brow, perplexed by what she means.
Torrez stutters for a moment, and I turn to him, even more confused by his reaction to her question.
“Forgive my mate’s boldness,” Fedor apologizes. “She’s always been curious and spoken her mind.”
“It’s fine,” Torrez waves away the apology and takes a sip of beer. “Um, it’s just that Vinna and I haven’t completed the mating yet, so that’s why her scent doesn’t carry mine,” he explains sheepishly.
Fuck, even I feel embarrassed by what he’s saying, and I didn’t even know this was a thing. Why do I feel like I just got caught doing something I’m not supposed to, or maybe in this case, caughtnotdoing something I was supposed to?
Manya’s head snaps in my direction, shock written all over her face. “You haven’t completed the mating yet? Why in the world not?” she asks, just like that. Fedor doesn’t jump in this time to apologize for his mate; he looks just as curious and shocked as his wife does.
“Uh…well…I mean…this just happened a couple weeks ago. I didn’t really know how I felt about it, and there’s been a ton of shit going down since then…”
“You don’t agree with the pairing?” Fedor interjects, the judgement clear in his tone.
“No, it’s not that. Yeah, in the beginning I didn’t see it, but then…well…anyway, I’m on board now, but like I said, there’s a lot going on, and there hasn’t been time…” I trail off as Manya’s eyes widen in horror, and she shakes her head at my explanation.
“We have a den we’d be happy to offer to you,” she tells us, and I sputter on the sip of tasteless beer I’m currently trying to swallow. Torrez pats my back hard a couple times and tries to cover up the smile on his face.
“That’s very nice of you, but we’re okay. We’re just taking things slow, getting to know each other, you know.” It’s clear by the looks they’re both wearing that they do not, in fact, know at all.
“Why would you reject such a good mate?” a woman further down the table asks me, her tone baffled.
“I’m not rejecting him,” I defend. “Is it hot out here?” I ask, and I turn to look around. “Is it suddenly hot to anyone else, or is it just me?” I fan my face and glare at Torrez as he chuckles into his cup while he steals another sip.
“You had to be a beta in your last pack,” a man to my left announces, like that solves it all.
“I was,” Torrez informs him.
