Claimed

Chapter Six

"How can you feel that?"

His expression soured as I confirmed his suspicions.

"My wolf senses are finely tuned to decipher body language, and the mate bond whispered your worries to us. No words were necessary for me to grasp their meaning."

I observed him cautiously, noting the depth of his distress at my thoughts.

"Why is it that I cannot sense it?"

He snarled, perturbed. "You can. And you're doing so right at this moment," he barked.

"Oh. I wasn't even aware," I fell silent.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and released a primal growl. "It's fine. I apologize for my outburst. I am forgetting that you're not accustomed to my world, and I realize now that I must exercise more patience."

"Well," I began, sitting upright. "It doesn't help that we only met yesterday. We have much to learn about each other since we are essentially strangers at this point."

His lips contorted in a mix of disdain and disbelief at my statement. "Strangers, you say? So, you'd be comfortable letting complete strangers into your most intimate moments?"

"No, not entirely, not in the least. There were the others, faces I had to endure, but this is a stark contrast, and I do mean profoundly dissimilar," I declared firmly, casting off the blanket with a swift motion. "Despite our bond as mates, all that lingers in my knowledge is your name and your lycanthropic nature. The veil shrouding your depths remains thick with mysteries waiting to be unraveled."

"I understand your perspective." He muttered, a reluctant admission hanging in the air.

"Are lycans known for their fiery tempers?" I inquired, my tone more of an observation than a question.

Rising from the bed, I stretched, feeling the tightness in my muscles. Every inch of my body ached, and the mingled scents of sweat and passion clung to me.

Zeph grunted, his gaze heavy.

"Hotheadedness might be one of our traits. It's ingrained in us lycans."

I offered him a smile, sensing an unexpected attraction despite my lingering fatigue from the night before. "I've also heard that dogs aren't fond of showers. Should I take one alone then? Or—"

Before I could utter another word, Zeph's thunderous roar filled the room, vibrating in his chest as he effortlessly lifted me from the bed and strode purposefully toward the bathroom. With a deft movement of his foot, he closed the door behind us. His massive frame barely squeezed through the narrow bathroom entrance, dwarfing the space with his sheer size, yet he navigated it with surprising grace, adapting to the low ceilings as best as he could.

As he set me down, a pang of longing struck me at the loss of contact when he moved towards the shower. He looked at it before hesitating and turning back to me.

"I'm clueless about this contraption," he admitted.

I chuckled softly. "Let me handle it."

I slid the glass door open with a gentle push, revealing the sleek interior. As I reached out to adjust the water temperature, a sense of doubt crept in - would Zeph, with his towering frame, find enough room in this compact space?

However, any concerns quickly dissipated as I observed Zeph's entranced expression at the cascading water. His attention so fixed on the mesmerizing flow that my own actions, like shedding my dress, went unnoticed amidst his fascination.

"Do you need some privacy with your new friend here or can I join in?" I teased.

He laughed at my jest and met my gaze with hunger in his eyes.