I sit in my lessons the next day, dazed. Like I'm walking through fog and I can't break out. It's keeping me from focusing. No matter how many times I blink, all the words just roll over my head. "What do you think? What could've prevented the genocide?"
I blink at my tutor, running my hands over my face. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention. I've been foggy."
The woman rolls her eyes. "I suppose it's to be expected." My cheeks burn hot. "We'll try again tomorrow."
I leave, returning to the room and sitting down on the bed. I pull a book off the nightstand. It's a good one--the palace library was filled to the brim with all sorts of books. It's a nail biting thriller and I'd been unable to put it down. I kick off my shoes and roll into bed, engrossing myself in the pages.
"Silent today, aren't we?"
I jolt up. Jonah sits in bed beside me, tie undone. "I'm just reading something."
He leans over. "Can I see?" His scent floats to my nose as he comes close. I almost lean it. "Is this a murder mystery."
"A fantastical thriller." I say, taking it back from him. He kicks off his shoes and leans back in bed, eyes closed. Stiffly, I open the book back up and pick up where I left off.
"Let's go on a hike tomorrow."
"Sure," I murmur, reading deeply. It's getting good. I flip the page before going back. I was reading so fast, I missed a clue.
"I said, let's go on a hike tomorrow." He reaches for my book and presses it to the bed.
I bookmark my page and lay it down. "Aren't you busy?"
"I need a vacation. I'm sure you do to."
"I'm pretty good."
"There's a cabin in the mountains nearby. I'll have it stocked then we can go tomorrow."
"On foot?"
"We're werewolves, if we run we won't tire."
I clench my jaw. He looks at me. "You still can't shift."
I run my tongue over my teeth. "I wouldn't say that. I just haven't done so in some time. I'm sure I could with some time."
"Liar, you've only shifted a couple times in your life." He sighs. "Are you still shifting with the moon?"
"Sometimes."
He shakes his head before lying back down.
I never liked hiking. I was never a forest person and the last time I went camping, that's where I went of wolfsbane the first time. It wasn't a good memory for me to say the least. But the next morning, we set off, unshifted and on foot, our major bags already on their way up by car. I wish I could've been in that car too.
After an hour, I'm hot, sticky and tired. The air is stiff and heavy to breathe in. It's one of the first warm days of spring and it's very, very warm. I lean on a tree. "God, I hate this."
"We're not going to make it there by nightfall with this time."
"This was your idea."
He grits his teeth before cracking his knuckles A vein strains in his neck. There's cracking, breaking, a visible look of ignored pain crossing his face. He sprouts fur, claws before shrinking. Still, his wolf is tall, easily three feet, maybe more. I step back as eerily human eyes glint.
My mind can still barely process it. This wolf is Jonah. I have one too. I prefer not to think about it too hard. He comes closer. I bend at his snapping. "What do you want?"
He stares at me, tilting his neck. "What are you a dog?" Carefully, I run my fingers through soft fur. If feels just like the hair on his head, almost just as dark. This is so strange.
He snaps at me again. "What?" I stand, staring up the pass. "We need to keep going. Run ahead if you want."
He snaps as soon as I walk. His fur brushes my bare legs. I bend so I'm eye level. "Maybe you shouldn't have shifted."
His teeth drag my shirt as I stand back up. I let out air between my teeth, frustration seeping through. I fall onto his back. "What the hell?"
It's then he beginning to run. I dig my fingers into warm fur. He's the size of dire wolves in legends. He is a thing of legends. He moves easily up the pass. I close my eyes. Wind brushes my faces, stings my eyes, dirt and sediment dig into the corners.
After some time, she shrugs me off and shift back. He's breathing hard. "Goddess, that was hard."
"It was your idea."
He turns around. "We're almost there. A little farther."
The cabin is a far cry from the palace. It's a home. Small, with maybe one bedroom at most, the outside is modest. There are flowers growing at the front, a swing on the porch. "Like it?" He asks. His hand runs up my back.
I swallow back spit and just nod, darting forward and opening the door. The first thing I go to is the fridge. I open it. It's full of food. The pantries are too. Our bags sit in the bedroom. "The car got here hours ago."
"We would've been here hours ago is someone could shift."
I shoot him a glare before washing my hands and pulling ingredients from out of the fridge. I'm hungry and without palace chefs, I can cook again. I always liked cooking, I just don't get to do it very often anymore.
I cut up tomatoes, blend them up and add it to a blend of spices in the pot. I put a couple teaspoons of oil, drop a pinch of salt and set to work on the chicken thighs. They'll do good in the oven.
I'm humming away setting to work on the pasta, stirring the sauce when hands wrap around my waist. I'm pressed against the counter. "Jonah-"
He kisses my bare shoulder. My head spins. If I don't focus, this food will burn. "I'm cooking dinner."
He reaches under my arm and turns the sauce. "There, that's all taken care of." Tingles go up my spine. My head is singing, truly singing. I don't want to loose focus now. I've been getting good at ignoring it, controlling it. I want to stay in the present. He sighs. "I want to take you to bed."
What can I say to that? The response is all stuck up in my throat. "It's done."
He grins at my frustration. I set up the table, dishing out two plates, setting up lemonade and a salad. "Sometimes I wonder if it would be better to have a little home like this. Like what argue to me about. Small, private. Just you and I and our children."
Children. "Jonah, I-"
His eyes are open and innocent. And blue.
Not the beast, not the monster, the mechanism, the biological urge.
It's the man speaking to me. "Do you want children? Were you speaking the truth at the healer's?"
I could imagine small feet running across the floor. Maybe not his. "I'm young right now to think about it. I have a lot of life ahead."
"We're mated."
I lifted my hand. "I don't see any ring on my finger."
"Marriage is nothing to us. Marriages can be broken. We can't be." The words hit a different way in a place like this.
I finish dinner sleepily. The hike is setting in. He clears the dishes, puts them in the sink and washes them. I sit on the couch and turn on the television. In some aspects, life has remained the same. So many shows still exist, so many reality queens I remember from before the regime change. But there's a lot different now too. Shows about werewolf culture, religion. The moon goddess is being referenced just as much as any other deity. I turn to the news. A report on the rebels. I crane my neck forward.
"Rebel attacks have left a father and his two sons dead. Broderick Jameson, a werewolf Beta from-"
Blank. The T.V has been turned off. I turn to him sharply. "I was watching that," I say.
"I don't want to think about work while I'm on vacation." He sits down close enough for me to smell his scent. He pulls my legs into his lap and I immediately go stiff. I should relax, I should relax. Maybe get on his good side, maybe get in his office and steal a document.
But I just can't.
What is wrong with me?
He leans forward. "I just want to spend time with you."
"Okay."
He runs his hands over mine. "And get to know more of you."
I lick my dry lips. His eyes follow. "Okay. What do you want to know."
"What's your favorite color?"
"Easy. Purple, it's been that way since I was little."
He hums. "You look like a sky blue type of girl."
I tilt my head to the side. "What's your favorite food?"
He grins cheekily. I know the answer. "Besides that, insufferable bastard."
He doesn't even think about it. "Venison cooked spit style. It reminds me of hunting with my father." The mention of his father hangs between us as a tight chord. I watch his face fall. Slowly, I place my hand on his chest. "I'm sorry."
His eyes are blank for a moment. "Sometimes, I thought I'd never forgive you. You ran away and it meant he died for nothing."
"I'm sorry."
"I think you're trying to run again."
Panic spreads across me. I push it down before he notices. "I'm not."
"It tears me up that you hate me. All I want to do is love you and love you and love you." He sounds tired.
I change the subject. "Favorite subject?"
"Math. Is yours English?"
"Yes. How did you know?"
"Because in school when I did the partner switch you were fucking pissed at me." He grins again. "You really cared about your grade."
"I always loved English class."
"What's the wildest thing you did in high school?" He asked.
Ah high school. What a terrible time. Literally. I bite my thumbnail. "I was never really wild. I moved around a lot. I was always quieter. Maybe...." I want to say Ezra. I shouldn't. But... "Kiss Ezra at a party?" There's trepidation in my voice.
Nothing passes through his eyes. "I beat him up for that. You had me feeling one kind of way." He runs hand up my arm, pulling me closer. Our breaths mingle. This is close, intimate, closer and more intimate than any kiss, fake or real, that I've had with him.
"How did you make up with him after? You guys seem close now."
"I said sorry. I was angry, confused and lonely after you left and my father died. He forgave me." Now there's coldness in his eyes. He'd angry at me. "Why did you do it? I never understood. Why?"
"Maybe we should-"
"No lies. I answered your question, you answer mine.
I gulp. "I drank a little, danced a little and it had me feeling.....free" I close my eyes. "It was hectic back then and I guess I liked the idea of being someone who liked me for me and not because of matehood or something arbitrary like that."
He stretches his back out. "What do you mean?"
"You were so mean to me until you found out I was your mate. You treated me like the dirt under your shoe because I didn't live on your side of town."
"I thought you were human."
"So?" The pitch of my words has risen. "I didn't change once the truth was revealed. Kissing Ezra made me feel stable. Everything was crumbling to shit around me, but I was still a teen who could party and lose her mind."
He runs a hand through his hair. "I think I understand now."
"Do you?"
"We were children."
"Yeah."
"We're not children anymore." Gently, he places his lips on mine It's soft and slow and bitterly sweet. There's no rush, no urgency, no crushing need or want. It's like a question. Continue?
I don't pull away, but he does. "Favorite hobby?"
"I sing," I say, out of breath.
"Do you? Are you good."
"I think so. I used to do choirs and theater when I was little."
"A drama kid. I can see it."
"What does that even mean?"
His fingers run up my spine. "Nothing, nothing. I'd wish you'd sing for me."
"Maybe later..."
"Too intimate, too personal?"
In the fading light, I can see only outlines of his face. They're all sharpened by shadow. I run my fingertips over his jaw as he kisses my neck. It's sharp, so sharp. He's a man now. Not the boy I knew, manipulated, left. I'm in deep shit now, messing with rebels and trying to bring down kings.
This is bigger than the two of us now. I'm afraid I'll love him before I get out again.
Because we certainly aren't children anymore.
"Are you scared of me mate?"
"What?"
He speaks between kisses. "I think I always scared you. After I hurt Ezra, after I came home from battle. After I knocked the gun from your hand. I remember how bad you were shaking."
"You don't scare me."
"You said no lies."
My heart is slamming against the walls of my chest. "Don't you scare yourself? Look at who you are now. You took over a country of over 300 million in five years. You say you did all that for me. That's terrifying."
"You think I'm a monster then."
"I think you made a big mistake."
He shakes his head. "Empire's end when new ones are born. It's the natural cycle."
"That may be true. But I look at you, I see a King. A conqueror. And in myself? I see a young woman. A nursing student. I see myself erased, consumed. Wouldn't you be scared too?"
"That won't happen. You're a Queen, my Queen."
Do I only matter because that's what I am to you? He presses his lips to mine as the dark takes over. My shirt is slipped over my head, my bra hooks are undone. Intimacy is the greatest drug.
Closeness, mentally and physically.
I slip into a satin nightgown before falling into bed. "Do you love me?" He asks, hovering above me. I turn into the pillow. He drinks from my lips against before I can answer. He's intoxicating.
"You know the answer. I just don't know you. I thought I did. I thought maybe I did love you. Then you changed."
He seems satisfied with this answer. I'm not sure if it's because it eaves possibility or if he thinks himself unchanged. I look at his face, hovering above mine, flushed and glowing. I see ruthlessness. Savagery. Murder, blood, vengeance.
I don't like what I see. "I love you," he says, hand on my stomach. "And one day, I want this for us. Dinner, children, closeness."
Our roads have already diverged. It's too late to go back on my promises. I'm in the thick of it and I can't ever go back. The witches will continue, if they fail, he'll kill them. I can't let my friends die. I bring his forehead to mine. "Shh, sleep."
He falls beside me, bringing me close beside him and curling up around me. His breath settles. Up, down, up down.
It's only been a day, but I know things have changed.
I'm not sure it's for the better of the worse yet.