Page 27 of Mated

CHAPTER 6

Kira

Standing on the top of the building with the night wind whipping against my face, I’m watching a helicopter descend toward us and pretending that I’m not absolutely terrified of flying. I don’t like the idea of planes, let alone a helicopter that is dancing through the air like a dragonfly right now.

He fucked me senseless, and now he’s taking me home to meet the family. I should be happy, but I am terrified. One of the small comforts is the fact that I’m wearing a big jersey wrapped around me tightly. It’s one of Cain’s, and it smells like him, and I don’t ever want to take it off. As the helicopter lands, Cain ushers me toward it—or tries to. As his guiding arm wraps around me, I find myself resisting.

“Get in,” he says, frowning slightly, somewhat confused by my refusal.

“Can I maybe not?”

He gives me a brief look. “Are you afraid of flying?”

“Very.”

He nods, picks me up, and puts me inside the helicopter. Just as I start to freak out, he puts me on his lap and snuggles me close. I’m certain this isn’t how you’re supposed to sit on an aircraft, but his arms and his body feel more secure than any seat or seatbelt ever could. He puts a pair of headphones over my ears, which help a great deal to cut down on the infernal noise the rotor blades are making.

Cain puts a pair on too, at which point I realize we can talk to one another through them.

“I will never let anything happen to you,” he says. “You’ll never be in real danger when you are with me.”

Logically, I know there is two-tenths of fuck-all he can do if we start falling out of the sky, but he sounds so confident and so genuine that the part of my brain which feels fear believes him and simply stops being afraid.

We lift into the sky, and I am able to actually enjoy the way the city looks as it retreats below us, turning from a big bunch of buildings into a series of vessels of moving light. It is an amazing sight, and I am able to enjoy it with the man who has become so fundamental to my existence, I can barely remember a time before him, even though I really only met him yesterday or thereabouts.

The flight does not last long, perhaps twenty minutes or so, but the terrain has changed completely by the time we land. There are no buildings, not even a little township lit up with a few streetlights or stray houses. There is just forest, and then in the midst of it, a building that has to be the size of a small fortress.I can see the great circular shape in the middle, with two large wings coming off either side. There are extensive grounds lit up with torches or lights or something that looks similar. I can see a maze-like area and big pathways and plantings and… I don’t know. This could be a fortress, or a university, or a magical school, or a summer retreat for a French king soon to be beheaded.

“This is Denholm,” Cain explains as we start our descent. “This is the ancestral seat of my pack.”

I forgot about his pack for a moment or two or three, or completely. I know he mentioned something about them in some way, but I only have eyes and thoughts for him.

“Do they all live here?”

“There’s a small crew who inhabit the place, yes. Mostly our elders,” he explains. “The younger ones tend to pursue lives out of the area. This is remote country, little in the way of employment opportunities, or entertainment besides hunting, fishing, a slower pace of life. Our pack tends to be ambitious as a rule.”

We land on the roof of the mansion, and I start to become tense as I realize that there are already quite a number of people waiting to greet us.

The excitement as the rotors stop and the door of the helicopter slides open is palpable. It is almost like being greeted by a horde of over-excited puppies ever so pleased to see us. Well, pleased to see Cain, anyway. I smile politely and mumble a few hellos, but for the most part, I find myself practically hiding behind Cain. He answers those he wishes to answer and masterfully turns away those he does not wish to interact with.

I am introduced to a few people, but the night is dark, and I really don’t know that I will remember them in the morning. I am tired again, worn out by the shifting, I think, and the strangeness of the situation. I can handle myself in work contexts because I know how to be professional. But this is different. I am meeting Cain’s family. That makes it personal, and I don’t know how to be personable.

“We are tired,” Cain says, sweeping me up into his arms. “More tomorrow.”

“Your room has been prepared,” someone says in a tone of perfectly loving obsequiousness. I can’t tell if they are male or female, only that they are elderly and clearly care for Cain very much. Not a parent, though, probably. More like an old faithful servant.

I am carried through the halls much like a baby. People keep looking at me, hoping for an introduction, but he does not give them one, or me one. He moves through the throng like an ice breaker ship moving through an icefloe. The energy of excitement does not abate until we reach a large, heavy door with iron fittings. It looks like the entrance to a dungeon, though it is located rather high up in the castle-fortress-place.

The room that belongs to him is more like a medieval king’s suite than any normally furnished boudoir. He sets me down on my feet among velvet and gilt edging and lets me take a few cautious, exploratory steps.

“Am I going to meet your parents at this event?”

“No,” he says. “Unfortunately, my parents both passed when I was young.”

“I am sorry,” I say, filling with horror as I realize how callous that sounds. I should have known that. I think I did know that. I read his Wikipedia page. I should never have said something so thoughtless…

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” he says. “You didn’t do it.”

“I know, but I’m sorry to bring up such a painful memory for you,” I stammer. “I’ve been such an idiot, between being afraid of the plane, and afraid of myself, and afraid of you, and now I’m saying too much, and none of it is good…”

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