“He trusts me,” I bit out. Why did it seem everyone doubted my connection to Seth?
“Indeed.”
“Do you want to join us?” Camden asked, and I wanted to kick him in the leg. I didn’t want Monqilcolnen to come, but the human was exceedingly friendly and had to keep adding to his collection of close friends to stay busy.
“Thank you. That would be nice.” Monqilcolnen moved to one side of me while Camden took the other, making me feel rather boxed in. Maybe they could both leave me alone with the squealing kit?
I squeezed Bobbinvoxlyn, using him as a shield, as I kept my eyes down and stayed silent.
Chapter 13
Why do you smile at other people?
My tail wiggled toward Wyn’s as a burning emotion churned in my gut. I hadn’t intended to see Wyn today, as he needed to rest from the injury I’d inflicted on him. I’d pressured Qinlin to order more rest for him than strictly needed because I’d worried he wouldn’t properly take care of himself, and she’d complied with little issue, though she’d muttered about annoying instincts and couples. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I was glad Wyn had more time—time I believed was necessary.
I’d been on my way to lunch when I’d spotted Wyn and Camden standing incredibly close together. Wyn had been smiling, relaxed as could be, and Camden had called him “babe.” Although I didn’t understand what the word meant, I’d detecteda softness in his tone that didn’t belong there if I had anything to say about it. NAID had supplied a translation, infant and child, but neither had matched the gentleness, which led me to believe it was a human endearment—one that did not belong to Wyn.
It was highly probable they were courting.
A growl rose in my throat that I had to swallow. My instincts screamed that I grab Wyn and never let him go while my inner fire demanded,Not yet. I was growing tired of the insistent needs tearing me in opposite directions. The only direction I wished to go was toward Wyn’s side. I had waited cycles for him and whatever he would mean to me, and I was getting tired. I wanted to snatch what I wanted, regardless of my inner fire or even fate.
I brushed a hand over Bobbinvoxlyn’s head, my claws dragging against Wyn’s chest, and the kit quieted for a moment, looking at me with Seth’s warm brown eyes, before returning to his previous fussing.
“It was kind of you to take him,” I told Wyn.
“I wanted to help,” he muttered, eyes on the small kit.
A frown threatened to crack my mask, but I forced it away. Why was Wyn so uncomfortable around me? When we’d met again over three years ago, I’d assumed it was my status and the fact I was his commanding officer, but now I wasn’t as sure. Wyn regularly associated with my cousins, who were princes. Why should he be comfortable with them and not me?
“You’re nice like that,” Camden said, and my tail flicked. Why was he here? “Wyn is alwayssonice.”
Wyn glanced at him with a slight smile, and I forced myself to take another breath instead of letting the growl building in my chest free. Being with the two of them at the same time probably wasn’t wise, and yet, the thought of leaving Wyn beside the attractive human was something I refused to do.
“He introduced me to Noxlyn,” Camden continued, even though neither Wyn nor I had said anything. “I’m helping Noxie study humans.”
“A worthy avenue for his soul,” I replied.
Noxlyn was a dedicated seeker, though his mind was more like his father’s than his mother’s in my limited knowledge of him. Qinlin loved mysteries, which was why she gravitated toward medicine. She liked healing and solving the puzzles her patients presented, which was also the reason she desired to be a doctor on a long haul transport; we often gave her access to odd or entirely new illnesses. Fynlincoxmin, Noxlyn’s father, was a seeker more bent on grand knowledge and wide avenues of thought. He didn’t specialize, unless one could count all communications between all species a specialty. Or being flamboyantly annoying.
Noxlyn appeared to be of the same vein. Humans were too broad to be simply classified, but he would try, though. I wished him well.
“I think soul types are odd,” Camden confessed, glancing at Wyn, which made me fight a snarl. This human needed to keep his eyes to himself or be willing to lose them. “Your Crystal said I was a creator soul, and yet I don’t do any type of art.”
I paused in my step, ignoring the crowd around us, and stared at the human as warmth began to bloom in my gut. At times, I simply knew things, especially if they related to the Crystal. I was connected to it, as all spiritual souls were, but I was even more so than usual. When I stared at Camden and put aside my annoyance with the human, I felt his creativity. He seemed like a work of art himself. Lovely, with his golden hair, pinkish skin, and deep blue eyes. But beneath that was a crack which oozed and seeped. Hurt, perhaps? I suspected he’d been damaged, as all the humans we’d rescued had been. Or perhaps this damage had been inflicted long ago.
Camden met my gaze unflinchingly. His eyes almost begged me, but for what, I could not say.
“What do you see?” he asked, his voice tentative while a blindingly fake smile tugged on his lips.
“You,” I replied. “I see you, Camden.”
He flinched, his shoulders curling inward like he wished to vanish.
“I see the polish and the cracks, both art in their own ways. The Crystal marked you well. Those who create are not just artists or writers. Some foster new life in such ways as gardening, teaching, repairing, designing, and befriending those who need it. Your creativity is only limited by yourself. And,” I said, “soul types are simply guide posts. You are more than what the Crystal said. You are not just a creator soul. You are Camden. You’re many things.”
“Ah.” His eyes darted down, and I could practically see the shield he was wrapping around himself. He was hiding, but that was his right. Everyone processed what happened to them differently, and he was no exception.
“Wyn is an exceptional seeker,” I remarked in an effort to change the subject.
