Chapter 9 – Breakfast with the Wolves
Maryam
“And what does this whole mate thing mean for like, your dating life?” Emma asks, stabbing some eggs with her fork and taking a big bite, clearly absorbed in the questioning. “Do you just not date anyone, sitting around waiting for your mate?”
“Emma!” I hiss, leaning towards her and smacking her arm. “Fucking – stop! You can’t just ask strangers whether or not they bite their girlfriends!”
“Oh, you’re not a stranger, are you, Will?” Shannon says, leaning towards the wolf next to her, wrinkling her nose adorably. He beams at her – as captivated as she said he is.
“I can too ask!” Emma says, snapping her face towards me with a frown.
“You’re being so rude!” I whisper, pissed and embarrassed as hell.
“It’s not rude!” she bites back. But then her face falls and her shoulders straighten as she spins back towards the boys. “Oh my god. Was it rude? Am I being rude?”
The brown-haired guard – Paul, I think – laughs a little and shakes his head, clearly pleased with us.
“It’s not rude,” Rafe says, laughing a little too and smiling at Emma. “Honestly, ask whatever you want. Hi, my name’s Rafe. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself last night.” He holds his hand out across me, a clear welcome and invitation.
“Emma!” she says, grinning and taking the Prince’s hand, giving it a hearty shake. The other boys introduce themselves and then turn to me.
I scowl, focusing on my tray, emptying my tiny carton of milk onto my fruity cereal and pointedly ignoring them all.
“That’s Maryam,” Shannon quips, perky as hell for someone who was dramatically hungover half an hour ago. “She’s in a mood now but when she’s not she’s cool.”
I flick my eyes up to her for a second, letting her know with my expression that she’s going to pay for that. She just beams at me, unafraid.
“So, any of that true?” Emma asks, looking between the boys as Shan leans over and stabs Emma’s sausage links with her fork and lifts them to her own tray. Emma doesn’t even spare her a glance – she’s a vegetarian, after all, and Shannon always likes a little extra. Will grins as he watches Shannon dig in, I think liking that she’s a girl with an appetite.
“Some of it is true,” Paul says, smiling softly at Em and abandoning his breakfast to pay attention to the conversation. “But not everyone gets a fated mate. I mean, nobody in my family does – the Moon Goddess seems inclined to bless some people and not others.”
“So, if you don’t get a fated mate, you don’t bite them?” Shannon asks, very intrigued.
A miserable groan slips from my mouth.
“No, marking is fairly normal,” Paul says, glancing at me before turning his eyes back to Shannon. “We have mating ceremonies instead of human weddings and you don’t have to be a fated mate to have one. Most people are just in love. And the giving of the mark is like…a very physical exchange of wedding rings.” He narrows his eyes, contemplating that, I think wondering if his metaphor is correct.
I move my gaze down to my cereal, which I haven’t touched and which is getting soggy. My shoulders tense and my fingers tighten around my spoon. Why? Why are we talking about this at breakfast?
Intense discomfort starts to roil in my stomach.
“So you like…bite your wife? Or, sorry, your mate? In front of your friends and family?” Shannon asks, fascinated.
Will laughs, low and sexy. “Well, usually not for the first time. When a wolf marks his mate, it’s usually a very…intimate act. The one at the mating ceremony is mostly just that – ceremonial.”
“And do women mark men back?” Emma asks, her voice eager, rapt. “Or is this some sort of weird wolf patriarchy thing where –“
I stand sharply up from my seat, pushing my chair back and gripping my tray. Emma’s words fall short as everyone turns to me. But I keep my eyes down as I grab my tray and turn, heading for the bussing station, just…completely disinterested in sustenance and friendship and this goddamn conversation.
Breath huffs from my nose as the soles of my sneakers smack hard against the ground. Why would they ask those fucking questions? I shake my head, livid with my friends. Why not just be more blatant about it and ask, ‘Hey Rafe, when the hell are you planning to use your fangs to take a big chunk out of Maryam’s neck!?’
“Maryam!”
I hasten my pace when I hear the voice of the one person I absolutely do not want to talk to ringing out behind me.
“Maryam!” Again, more frustrated this time.
I reach my tray out towards the table. The woman in charge of the bussing station looks at me with wide eyes when suddenly a dark form cuts between me and the table.
I gasp as my tray collides with his chest, milk sloshing all over the front of his black uniform.
“Rafe!” I whip my head up to glare at him. “What the hell!”
“Maryam,” he says, sighing and shaking his head at me. “Come on, you didn’t even eat –“
“Cool, you’re the breakfast police as well as a gigantic roadblock!” I snap my eyes back down and step to the side to get around him.
But he just steps in front of me, blocking me again. “Maryam, I –“
“Would you get out of my way!?”
“Would you just listen to me!?”
I stop in my tracks, again lifting my gaze to stare up at his face, totally livid. “Why would I, Rafe? Every time I do you just remind me again why I think you’re crap –“
He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw for a moment, working hard to hold back whatever his first impulse was.
And something in that stops me because…well. Because I think he’s trying. And I’m not sure I’ve seen that from him before.
Honestly, it’s surprise more than anything else that shuts me up.
“Maryam,” Rafe says, loosing a long breath and opening his eyes, looking evenly down at me now. “Please, come back to the table and eat with us. I’m sorry that we made you uncomfortable. We’ll change the subject.”
“Nah,” I say, my surprise draining away and my anger retaking pride of place. I move again to step around Rafe. This time he lets me and I put my food down on the table.
“You didn’t eat anything, dear,” the woman says, looking worriedly between the food and me. “Would you like something else? We have –“
“Would you mind giving us a moment?” Rafe says, giving the woman an apologetic smile – his most charming and princely. The woman blushes, laughs a little and nods, stepping away from the table.
“Seriously, now you’re turning women away from their jobs, Rafe?” I ask, casting a hand towards the woman’s retreating form.
“If that’s what it takes to make you listen to me for thirty seconds, Maryam,” Rafe replies, turning to me, cooler and more casual than he was a moment ago. “Then yes. I’ll fire every damn person in this tent.”
My brows shoot up at that. Especially since I see that he means it.
I cross my arms over my chest, a tacit invitation to continue. But I don’t say a word.
“Look, I’m sorry, Maryam,” Rafe says, stepping closer to me and dropping his voice, his eyes fastened on me in a way that implies that as far as he’s concerned I’m the only person in this tent. In the whole camp. “I’ve acted poorly towards you –“
I roll my eyes at the understatement and start to turn away.
But his hand shoots out, his palm cupping my elbow – in no way stopping me just…asking me to stay. I hesitate but then turn back.
I don’t really know why.
“I’m serious,” he murmurs, still giving me his full attention. “I’m so sorry. This has been…so hard on you, and I haven’t made it any easier. I’m sorry for Mark, and I’m so fucking sorry about the train station – I lost my mind there – and about last night. I wish I had –“
“It’s a lot of ‘sorry,’ Rafe,” I say, my throat getting tight, my voice squeaky. I curse myself inwardly because…I definitely do not want this Alpha Prince to see me cry. “You should have just treated me better to begin with. You can’t just throw a bunch of sorrys at bad behavior and expect it to be fixed!”
Rafe’s face falls when he sees me fight against my frustrated tears. His mouth twitches, the corners turning down into a desperate frown, and something in my heart clenches at that.
Because. All right. Maybe I haven’t given him enough credit either. Honestly…I never thought of Rafe Sinclair as capable of deep emotion, not since we were kids. And throwing me manfully over his shoulder at the train station certainly didn’t help that perspective, painting him more as the big Alpha brute I think he is.
But that helpless little frown? I blink, stunned.
“Please, give me another shot,” Rafe says, sighing and shaking his head, his fingers tightening just slightly on my elbow. “Tell me what’s wrong – what upset you so much.”
“It’s – it’s fucking you, Rafe!” I say, less snappy and more full of woe as I tug my elbow from his hand, wanting freedom from his touch. “I left the capital to get away from you and your stupid claim! I wanted to come here and help people – really do some good, when I really feel like your stupid dad and his whole government are doing such a crap job!”
His eyebrows raise at this, I think genuinely shocked.
“But here you are!” I continue. “Butting in on my escape! At my camp, at my breakfast table! Talking about mating ceremonies of all things!?” My voice gets all high and squeaky. “And you didn’t think that would upset me!? After everything that happened!? Honestly, I think maybe I should just go -”
He sighs and steps closer, the sudden nearness of such a huge person – a full predator, really – stealing my words. But with the way he keeps his green eyes on mine, I’m not sure that he realizes what he just did.
God, we’re just completely different species, aren’t we? And the way he moves with such ease, completely oblivious to the power of his size and lethal grace…I just think I’m so much more aware of it than he is. Which is completely unfair.
“Please, Maryam,” Rafe says, his voice lowered nearly to a whisper now. “I…. Please stay. Don’t give up on wanting to help people – it would break my heart if I knew you gave up something like that because of me.”
“But how can I?” I whisper, still squeaky and frustrated even though I don’t move my eyes from his face. “When you’re…fucking around! Talking about biting your mate!”
He works hard against a smirk here and, begrudgingly, I give him credit for trying. “Listen, Maryam,” he says, his words slow like he’s speaking them even as the thoughts still form in his mind. “I give in, all right? Completely. Everything – absolutely everything from here on out is on your terms. Okay?”
I scoff, leaning away from him. “What the hell does that mean?”
Rafe just slowly smiles.