Chapter 7 – Theresa
Rafe
I beam up into Theresa’s beautiful face, passively grateful that I thought to drop my knife and the stick I was whittling just in time to catch her. My eyelids threaten to flutter shut as I again smell her amazing scent – like snowfall – crisp and clean, with a touch of mint on the nose.
God, fuck but that scent takes me back.
“What are you doing so far from your palace, big scary wolf?” Theresa asks, grinning down at me with her icy blue eyes crinkled with joy. “Have you gone wild and returned to your primordial self?”
I shake my head at her, my smile deepening at her slight accent – the way she rolls her r’s, slurs her s’s and her c’s.
“I came hunting after you, Tessy,” I murmur, playful, squeezing her tighter, making her laugh that lovely lilting laugh. “But the question is, what are you doing out here?”
I bend, meaning to put her on her feet, but Theresa gives a soft, petulant whine of dismay, holding me closer. I laugh and straighten, shaking my head at her, well aware that pretty much everyone’s eyes are on us now.
And that Theresa knows it.
She has always been a little possessive, after all.
“I came to help the war effort,” Theresa says, grinning down at me and subtly wrapping one of her legs around my hip, an act that sets my wolf growling for…many reasons. “You know that I’m a patriot, after all, my Prince.”
My smile deepens. “You’re Vanaran,” I murmur, pleased as I always have been by her playful wit.
“Yes, well,” she murmurs, bringing her face closer and nudging my nose with the tip of hers. “I’m only Moon Valley in spirit until you finally mark me and –“
I burst out laughing – knowing that she’s walking that fine line she always walks between truth and kidding, making me guess which side she’s truly on. I bend again, this time truly lowering her to the ground. Theresa huffs a pettish sigh but lets me, stepping back a little even as she takes my hand.
“Truly, Tess,” I murmur, squeezing her hand, genuinely pleased to see her. “Why are you here?” I glance over at the transport. “Last time I checked you weren’t studying psychology, you were…”
My eyes drop to the camera around her neck and I tilt my head to the side, suddenly wary.
“A journalist, yes,” she says, grinning up at me, coy. “But don’t worry, Prince, I’m not going to publish all your military secrets and destroy your campaign. I’ve made an agreement with your uncle the Duke – I’ll cover the campaign and send all my drafts to him before publication. He has full discretion over whether or not I’m leaking anything confidential.”
I raise an eyebrow at her, thinking that this is a risky proposition. The press, the media…I mean, no part of me wants to be a monarch that makes hard rules about freedom of speech in the press. But this is a unique military engagement, quite different from the assault on Atalaxia. This one is, indeed, within Moon Valley – with and against our own citizens.
So to send a journalist? With a camera?
“Don’t worry, Rafe, my love,” Theresa says, taking a step back and raising her hands like she’s holding a camera, pressing her index finger down and clicking her tongue to mime taking a snapshot. “I’ll make you look very good in all of your portraits. Just like that time when we went to the beach –“
I snarl a little – playful, not threatening – and lean towards her, a silent plea to shut up about that. After all, there are those with Alpha hearing in this circle who do not need to hear about that particular trip.
And the photographs Theresa took.
That I later destroyed.
“So, did you come here just to take pictures of me?” I ask, dropping my voice low, leaning further forward to loom over her a bit, eager to take some of the power back in this conversation. “Honestly, Tess, I thought you a serious journalist – not a paparazzo –“
She bursts out laughing, snapping a hand to my chest and giving me a shove. I laugh too, letting her push me back a step as my wolf goes a bit weak, panting at the sight of her lovely face. Theresa, she has…always been a bit irresistible to us.
“Theresa!” someone calls from over by the transport. We both turn our heads towards them.
She sighs and then looks back up at me, stepping close again, winding her arms around my waist. “I missed you, Rafe.”
I smile down at her, my hand twitching as I resist the impulse to lift it and stroke it over her lovely white-blonde hair – something I’ve done hundreds of times. “It’s good to see you, Theresa.”
She pouts. “Call me Tessy.”
I grin. I can’t help it. “We’re comrades now. Pet names are inappropriate.”
She squeaks, dismayed at my refusal, leaning her weight against me, her head falling back, eyes shutting, adorable in her sudden misery.
“Theresa!” the voice calls again, angrier now.
She doesn’t budge.
“Go on, Tessy,” I murmur, my voice low but edged with humor.
She grins and lifts her head back up, her eyes shining with victory. “I’ll see you soon, my wolf?”
“Oh, inevitably,” I murmur, shrugging as she drops her hands from my waist, her fingers tracing over my back and hips as she steps away. “Small camp, after all.”
Theresa grins, mischievous and cunning, and then snaps her teeth playfully at me, the sharp sound of it clicking in the air. My stomach tightens at that because…god damn it if I don’t know precisely what she means when she does that. That little snap has become our secret code over the years.
And Theresa knows it too. Theresa always knows precisely what she’s doing – which is usually driving me insane. In a…very good way.
She grins at me, a great deal of meaning passing silently between us in an instant. Then she laughs and turns, dashing back to the center of the camp to join her commander or whoever it is that called her.
I sigh, watching her go, taking a moment to collect myself before I turn back to the fire. Because I’m well aware that everyone saw that. And that Theresa was not coy, at all, about letting everyone know the nature of our relationship. Or at least, our former relationship, which has been maddeningly on and off for years.
I turn my eyes back to the fire, slipping my hands into my pockets, looking deep into its orange depths – thinking suddenly of Ariel, of all people, who is one of Theresa’s good friends, even if I don’t think they’ve talked in a while. God, what would she think if she knew Theresa is here?
Quit that, my wolf growls, scratching hastily at me inside my soul.
I just ignore him, continuing to stare into the fire. But tonight, he won’t be turned away.
You’re just thinking about Ariel to distract yourself. You need to look at her, he snarls, giving my heart a sharp bite. I nearly flinch before shoving him with a mental hand, not in the mood to deal with his antics.
She doesn’t want me to look at her, I respond. For heaven’s sake, she hates me enough already –
Look! At! Her! He growls deeply, staring to scratch fervently at the floor of my soul with both paws like he’s trying to dig through it or something. We have to see! We have to know how she responds! Is she jealous!? Did she see it!? Did she see Theresa snap her teeth!?
I sigh, closing my eyes and clenching my jaw, doing my very, very best to resist.
But when my eyes open again my head has already turned, my gaze lifted. And it falls right on Maryam, who sits alone on a log across the fire, glaring at me for all she’s worth.
I exhale so, so slowly through my nose. Yup, she saw, I say to my wolf, heaving a heavy internal sigh. And she’s…pissed.
My wolf howls with delight and I sigh for real this time.
And then, drawn inevitably, I head across the fire circle towards my mate.
Conversation rings out around me as I go, only a little stilted. I’m well aware that many eyes are on me – I can feel them. But enough of the group is disinterested in my comparatively banal actions now that Theresa is gone, turning their attention away.
Leaving us relatively alone.
“Hello Maryam,” I murmur, stepping close. She doesn’t bother to get up, instead just craning her head far back on her neck to continue her glare.
She also doesn’t bother to engage with my pleasantries.
“Did you meet an old friend?” Maryam’s lips narrow to a thin, angry line. My eyes move for a moment over the silky coils of her hair that spill over her hood and shoulder, all shades of black and brown with cinnamon highlights.
God, but she’s pretty.
“Yeah,” I say, tearing my eyes away, looking towards where Theresa went even though I know she’s gone. “I’ve known Theresa for a long time.”
“Nice,” Maryam snaps.
I smirk, wondering if this is just a continuation of Maryam completely hating my guts and everything I do, or if she’s actually jealous. My wolf spins in an eager circle at the idea, loving it – mad for it.
So mad that I…do something completely out of character for me.
“What, Maryam?” I murmur, letting my eyes slip back to her and then long down her form in a way that makes her go all tense and livid. My wolf howls long and slow to the night sky. “Are you jealous?”