I'm No Cinderella

Chapter 22

All shifters were attractive. They couldn't cast spells like witches, or manipulate emotions like angels, or drain your life force with a touch like vampires, but shifters didn't need such fancy tricks. Their looks alone were plenty effective in luring unsuspecting victims to their untimely deaths.

But, even amongst his own kind, his looks stood out. Or, maybe that was a biased opinion influenced by the mate bond. Something told me that couldn't be so.

I studied him more closely, taking in his strong brow and high cheekbones. As his eyes flicked across the words on the page, creases formed across his forehead and his full lips pursed in thought. My gaze trailed down to his jawline, noting the subtle hint of stubble along the olive skin.

His eyes snapped up to meet mine, catching me in the act. The heat returned to my face, and I turned back to the book in my hand, pretending to be very interested in the incoherent words on the page. The piece of scratch paper that had been resting atop the open book, nearly fell from my lap, but I caught it just in time, a tiny gasp slipping from my lips.

At the desk, he chuckled, having clearly witnessed the entire thing, before rising from his seat to cross to the bookshelf behind me. He stooped low to scan the titles along a lower shelf, a section that I had long ago dismissed, the pages of the books there filled with mind numbing legal jargon that seemed to lead in never ending circles. He seemed completely at ease as he flipped through the pages, giving himself a swift nod as he slipped the book under his arm. His gaze flicked to me, once again catching me observing him. He shot me a smirk.

I turned back to my book, this time copying a sample problem onto my paper to appear less flustered by his presence than I was. On his way back to the desk, the sound of his footsteps halted behind the settee. I tensed, but didn't look up at him.

"Is that... algebra?" He asked, voice incredulous.

Some childish instinct urged me to hide my practice from his view, but I stifled it, peering sheepishly, back up at him, now standing so very close to where I sat that I could smell that intoxicating scent that was just him. "That is what you do up here all day?" His head tilted slightly to the side, "Did you not get enough of that in school?"

I looked away, "I didn't get to go to school, not after what happened to my father."

"No?" The tone of his voice was strange, unlike anything I had heard from him, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him again.

"No," I swallowed, "Ash and I had to get jobs instead. Our sister, Daisy was so young, my mother couldn't leave her alone to go to work herself."

He blew a deep breath out through his mouth, but continued on anyway in determination, as if this conversation was some obstacle he had to overcome. "Ten years old is very young to have such responsibility thrown on your shoulders."

I shrugged, eyes landing everywhere but the spot at the desk that he had returned to, "I was happy to help."

He went silent, but I continued to feel the weight of his gaze on me for several minutes, before he let out a quiet sigh and returned to his own work.

The room remained quiet for a long while.

I managed to finish the entire page of sample problems, and move onto the next lesson before he spoke again, "Do you have trouble seeing?"

My gaze snapped up to meet his at the unexpected question. "What?"

"You squint your eyes when you read," he stated simply.

"I– I–," I stuttered out, awkwardly. How long was he watching me work? "The lighting is a bit dim in the castle," I finally explained with a lame shrug.

His head tilted in time with his furrowing brow, before his gaze left mine to look about the room, a strange expression on his face. "Shifters prefer the dim lighting, because it is easier on our eyes, but is it too dark for yours?"

"A little."

He frowned, "You've been staying here for three months, why have you never mentioned this to anyone before?"

I shrugged again in answer.

He sighed, crossing to the window and throwing the burgundy curtains wide, "Does this help at all?"

"Yes," I offered him a smile for the effort, one he returned immediately.

"Good," he gave a sharp nod, "it will have to do until I can have the lights brightened for you."

My mouth popped open at the suggestion, "Oh, no, you don't have to do that for me."

"I don't," he agreed, "but I will do it, regardless.

I stared at him in disbelief for a few moments before I snapped my mouth shut. "Thank you," I managed.

"Anything for you," he replied easily.

I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze.

This time, when silence took over the room, it was impossible to focus on the math in my lap. Not when I knew that he might be watching.

Instead, I snuck glances at him as I had been doing before. It's the pull of the mate bond that I am feeling, I told myself. It was to blame for the bizarre desire to cross the room and run my palm down the side of his cheek, to test if the skin was as smooth as it looked. If the stubble tickled like I imagined it might.

Afraid that if I didn't put space between us right then, that I would find myself acting on the strange impulses, and giving more of myself than I could afford over to the mate bond, I shot up from the settee. "I have to go," I blurted, the jarring sound of my voice breaking the peaceful silence of the room.

I felt his gaze on my back as I rounded the settee and approached the shelf, to return my book to the spot I had found it. As I was slipping it into place, there was the sound of wooden soles against stone, but I tried to ignore it. Suddenly his hand was there, grabbing the spine of a book only inches from my head, but not pulling it fully from its place.

I spun, finding myself caged to the shelf between his thick biceps, only inches separating our bodies.

My breath came in small gasps, and my heart beat so quickly in my chest that I feared I would faint, but he made no move to get closer. He only gazed down at me, a smirk slowly pulling at his lips, the heat in his eyes rivaled only by that in my cheeks.

The hand that wasn't gripping the book left it's spot on the shelf beside my to run the pad of his thumb down the side of my face in a soft caress. The movement was so similar to what I had been imagining myself doing to him, that the air caught in my throat.

His smirk deepened, before he sighed and pushed off from the wall, giving me an escape route, "I'll see you at dinner tonight, little mate."

I could only nod, knowing that my voice could no longer be trusted.

Then, I turned on my heel and fled the sitting room as fast as I could, not slowing down until I was safe in my room.

So much for not giving any more to the bond.

~*~*~

Heating up!

Thoughts? Concerns? Predictions?

Let me hear them!