Page 49 of Ulune's Daughter

I snigger. “Definitely not.”

“So.” Rhodes crunches down a last piece of fried chicken before cleaning off his plate with a whisk of his magic and tucking it back into the picnic basket. Tidy guy. “I get why you wouldn’t want to go home for the fires, but isn’t that letting her win?”

While I’m formulating an answer, he shakes his head. “Sorry. Forget I said that. I’m hypercompetitive sometimes. You wanting to avoid them is totally understandable.”

I sigh.

“I miss my dad,” I admit. “We’ve always gotten along really well. I call every couple of weeks but it’s not the same. He hates talking on the phone. We’ve drifted since Chelsea and Mitch got engaged and going home got problematic.”

Rhodes stretches out next to me. “Tell me to back off if I’m being a dick, but if you wanted to take home a great-looking, charming, athletic, madly into you, not-at-all over competitive boyfriend to meet your parents and the backstabbing couple at All Hallow’s, I could probably help with that.”

I squint at him. “You know where I could rent one?”

He laughs and tucks himself against me, his warm hands sliding under my shirt. “I’m sure I could find a volunteer on the swim team.”

“I don’t think I could spend that much time around Yan without reporting him for something.”

He leans in and captures my lower lip in his teeth. He nips, then soothes with his tongue, as his hands begin to wander. “Seriously,” he says, looking into my eyes. “If you want to rub me in their faces, I’m on board.”

“This is feeling petty and vindictive. I like it.”

He laughs and kisses me.

Chapter17

Grooming

LAW

Although my mate came home last night smelling of the human—a stink I dealt with by rubbing myself all over her as she lay in bed—he didn’t stay a second night. My territory, and my mate, are my own again.

At least for a short while. After breakfast, a flock of annoying students arrive. My mate oversees as they take pictures and draw diagrams of her poisoned prize. She leaves with them to eat lunch, promising she’ll bring me back a treat. When she returns, I’m dozing on her bed, having liberally refreshed my scent marks. She scoops me up, cuddling me against her shoulder and neck.

I lick her cheek. Beloved mate. She smells so good. Tastes so good. Sweet, sweet mate.

She kisses my ears and croons. “We’re going for a little ride, boy.”

Ah, a ride in the countryside with my mate. The fall colors are just starting; we can enjoy them together. I’m not a drooling canine but I enjoy sticking my head out of a car window.

She drops me into a plastic box and fastens a metal grate over the opening. I yowl in confusion.

“Sh, sh, boy. This won’t take long and you’ll feel so good afterward.”

I feel good now!

I scrabble at the box’s vents, hissing and howling. What is the meaning of this?

“Easy, oh, boy, I know, I know. The carrier isn’t nice, but it’s not safe for you to be loose in the car.”

Of course, it is! I candrivea fucking car. Iowna dozen fucking cars. What is she doing putting me in a box? I can’t feel the wind in my fur in a box.

She carries the box to her Jeep. Despite her strapping the box into the passenger seat, I’m thrown all over as her Jeep rumbles through the streets of Bevington. Doesn’t this infernal machine have shock absorbers? Where is she taking me?

When my bruises have bruises, she pulls into a side street. In over three years attending Bevington, I’ve never been here and have no idea why she’d bring me to this leafy residential street. Does she want to show me a house she wants to buy? I’ll buy it for her sight-unseen if she promises never to put me in the plastic box again.

As soon as I’m back in my human form, I’m smashing the plastic box into tiny pieces. And pissing on them.

My mate parks the car. I yowl as piteously as possible. Surely, she’ll take me out of the plastic box when she hears my distress? She sticks her fingers through the box’s vents while holding it to her chest. Her scent fills the box, which is calming. I lick her fingers and purr when she croons at me.

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