A promise.
He emerged from the bathroom, and his eyes were amber again, startling and beautiful and his. They were also red with irritation.
“Oh,” she said. “Does it hurt to wear them?”
“No.” He shut his eyes and pressed all his fingers against them in the manner of a small boy. “But it’s good to get them out.”
“Do you have eye drops?”
He lowered his hands and opened his eyes. “What?”
Such a male response. A laugh bubbled out of her, which seemed to surprise him. He smiled, and it brought a slow transformation to his face. His eyes turned molten gold, and endearing crinkles formed at their corners and at the corners of his mouth. Not age lines; she was pretty sure his smile had looked this way since he was a child. What sort of child had he been? Somber, no doubt. Responsible.
“Please do yourself a favor and get some eye drops,” she said.
He nodded. “I appreciate the suggestion.”
“Because you’ve never thought about it before.”
The crinkles deepened. “Exactly.”
Afternoon waned while she read in the library and Malachi went to work on the door. The cabin was quiet other than his tinkering. Around six she heard and smelled sizzling meat from the kitchen, got up and found him in front of the stove. He wasn’t wearing an apron, just his same medium-wash jeans and dove-gray polo shirt. He was focused on the food. He was barefoot, which was an odd thing to notice…and to stare at. Gosh, his feet were big. But then, so were his hands.
He let her watch him for a minute before he looked up from the two skillets. “I don’t know what you like. Decided to keep it basic and avoid disturbing you.”
“You wouldn’t have. I was just comfort re-reading.”
He flipped the four burgers, then moved some asparagus around in the other pan. “Which book?”
“Watership Down.”
“Ah. Relevant to our current situation?”
“Um, not necessarily. I just love it. Then again, this warren of yours might be defending itself against invaders shortly.”
A low growl rumbled in his chest.
“Which I guess makes you Hazel. Do you have a Bigwig to delegate to, if that happens?”
His mouth twitched at the reference. “The wolf who guarded you while I went to town. His name is Rhett, and yes, he will relish the chance to play Bigwig.”
Will. Notwould, conditional on whether the situation developed. Malachi was expecting it and planning for it. “So he didn’t show up randomly when you got back. He was here the whole time, guarding…me.”
“Correct.”
Because I’m your mate. She didn’t want to say it, but he seemed to read her mind. He stepped away from the stove to give her his full attention.
“April, I don’t expect reciprocation.”
“Not today anyway.”
“Not ever. You’ll never have any obligation to me.”
She’d known the man for five hours. She had made a pledge to herself that she would henceforth stop giving people chances to hurt her. Yet she believed Malachi, couldn’t warn herself out of believing him however she tried. He had shown her with his actions, and no less convincing than his behavior was the pervasive sense of safety that filled her when he was near. This wasn’t the way it had been with Drew or with Nik. She had never felt protected by either of them, even in the first two weeks with Drew when he was so charming. She had felt neutral about him, no real safety, no real danger, just as she always had with Nik. Until the moment Drew’s mask came off, and he became…nothing like Nik.
Malachi, though. Malachi’s protectiveness was part of his presence. Not only toward her but also toward his pack. It wasn’t an excuse to stifle her. It wasn’t possessive jealousy. It was just protection—offered unconditionally, nothing controlling behind it.
Maybe it was fake, but she simply couldn’t imagine Malachi ever faking anything in his entire life.
