Iri didn't take what Micah had said to her with a grain of salt.
When her mate felt distressed, it wasn't to be taken lightly, even if it was because of a dream.
He wanted a marking and he wasn't willing to wait too much longer. Hell, he'd already been hinting at the fact that she needed to go on and change him.
The fires were what really told her that something was wrong. Micah had been watching the fires again, and by now, Iri had figured out that when he was playing with fire he was completely upset. She'd spoken to Mariah about it a few days ago, and she had said that Micah had starting watching fire shortly after Sylas came into the picture, but he hadn't been starting them or putting anyone's else's life in danger, so she'd never said anything about it. But, Iriye wasn't like his mother. She wanted to know what was going on with her mate, and she was going to find out.
Sylas was asleep in his room, and when Iri had gone to check on him, his little arm was wrapped around his bear. He had taken the transition from Micah's apartment to Iri's house with ease, and she was thinking it was because of the toys and the fact that he could be with her more. There wasn't visiting anymore. If he wanted her, all he had to do was run upstairs.
He'd even unpacked all of his things, save for his clothes, by himself.
Sylas felt like an all-around big boy.
He loved his room so much that he didn't even sleep with Iri and Micah as much as he used to.
That gave them a lot of privacy at night time, and Micah loved it.
Iri missed the little one at times, but it was moments like now, where she could speak to Micah without having to filter herself that she was glad that Sylas wasn't as attached to them, at least during the night.
"Tell me what's going on with this fire."
He had been frowning down at a book he was reading when Iri decided to speak, so when he looked up, his eyes were unfocused, and he looked a tad bit lost. Iriye watched as he put the book down on his bedside table, then turned to her, frown still intact, but his gaze clear, "I don't want to talk about it."
She cocked her head to the side, her voice sounding pleasant, though she was quickly feeling quite the opposite, "I don't care."
Micah scowled at her, his eyes flashing with that inhuman anger he possessed as he crossed his arms, "I'm not talking about it. Don't ask."
"But why?" Iri pressed, leaning forward on her hand as she spoke, her gaze searching Micah's for something else besides the irritation that was dominating anything else. It was hard to see, but Micah was scared, scared to tell her, and that left Iri completely lost.
Why would he feel he needed to hide anything from her? It didn't have anything to do with drugs, Iri was sure, so there really wasn't a reason for him to be afraid. She wasn't going to be mad, "If it's bad, Micah I want to be able to help you. Instead of being in bed with me, you're staring into flames in the back yard. I'm your mate, you should be able to tell me when something isn't right."
His gaze softened in the slightest, and his arms fell from his chest.
Carmen watched those beautiful eyes of his slide closed as Micah let his head fell back against the headboard, "If I don't want to talk about, I'm not going to, Iriye. When I'm comfortable enough to talk about it, then I will, if not, then that should be fine with you too."
She wasn't accepting that, even if what he did say was logical, "I'm not going to sit here, and watch you act like that, though, Micah. I stand in the window and watch you when you're down there. Did you know that?"
