“I have a lantern, don’t worry about me,” said Maeve.
“But it’s half a league back to your home. Surely, we can put you up for the night.”
All the air was sucked into excited lungs as every single man prepared to offer his cabin and his bed to the pretty schoolteacher.
“I will walk her home.”
The classroom fell quieter than a whisper. Every set of eyes turned to look at Soren, even Maeve’s.
He couldn’t believe he’d said it—nearly crushed the stylus in his clenched fist—but he swallowed down his surprise and desire to take it back. He couldn’t embarrass Kiri again.
And besides, if he didn’t take her home, there might be a bloody riot over the right to host Maeve overnight. Best to get her safely back home.
Maeve stood perfectly still, considering his offer, and left Soren with little choice but to stand there and squirm under her assessment. No one said anything, but more than a few heads bobbed back and forth, waiting to see what would happen.
Others held their own breath, waiting for the moment Maeve would deny Soren and open the field again.
Soren prepared himself for just that. He stiffened his spineand kept his face neutral.
Perhaps she would let him down gently, politely—perhaps that sharp tongue, the one Imogen said she wielded, would cut him down. So be it. Anything was better than this infernal, intolerable silence that stretched—
“Very well,” she said finally, “I’m sure I can’t be safer than with you, Mister Soren.”
Even in the hush, the classroom filled with titters and blown breaths. Soren’s own ears twisted back onto his head, and his whiskers twitched with indignation at her implication.
His beast liked her fire and spite. Soren just nodded and bowed his head, gesturing for her to lead the way.
7
At least Maeve needed to watch her footfalls in the growing darkness as she walked the path home; it was something to do. Soren the Mysterious Manticore lived up to the sobriquet she’d given him, as he remained stalwart in his silence as he walked beside her.
She was indeed safe, as she’d quipped back in the schoolroom; there was no denying that any predator would think twice about taking on a hulking manticore. Shoulders rounded with muscles, arms and thighs bulging with them too, he was the epitome of masculine strength, the low light of the lantern catching on the many ridges of his body.
Safe too from him, it seemed. It’d been a bit of a gamble she took, accepting his offer, but a necessary one. If she hadn’t, she might’ve been escorted—if not carried—home by at least five or more of her new students. Although her pride certainly enjoyed the admiration, having so many big bodies crowding close, anxious to earn her attention had been a bit overwhelming. Thank fates the windows had been open to air out all the malepheromones.
Maeve didn’t want a tryst or dalliance right now. It sounded like a complication, honestly. And she’d heard enough from Sorcha that these otherly men weren’t usually the tryst or dalliance kind. No, they seemed the bed, wed, and bred kind.
Absolutely not. Perhaps in the distant future, but Maeve still had so much to do, so many places to go. Far too much to be snapped up by a man who’d keep her tied to her childhood demesne, no matter the fantastic breadth of his shoulders.
So really, perhaps it’d been agood thingthat Soren had run from whatever mate-bond he might’ve felt.
When they next made it to a flat, wide part of the path, Maeve glanced his way from the corner of her eye. She found him already staring at her, although that stopped immediately when he saw her looking.
Clearing his throat, Soren said quietly, “I apologize, Miss Brádaigh.”
“Whatever for, Mister Soren?” Sure, she much preferred conversation, but she could handle silence.
He winced. Yes, she would make him say it. She wanted the truth after all this mystery.
“For the way I acted…before.”
Nodding, Maeve turned her attention back to her footfalls. Perhaps he’d be more comfortable talking if she wasn’t looking at him.
“Is it true, then? About the feather?”
She heard his audible swallow. “Yes.”
When he said nothing else, Maeve was forced to look at him again. “I think I’ll need a little more.”
