Page 29 of Body and Soul

And last night…

Last night he’d let me take care of him, too.

I thought back to last night, standing at the sink washing dishes while Shepherd and Gavin chatted in Shepherd’s office. The warm, sudsy water on my hands had felt good. Right. It was more than doing something useful for once, although that was part of it. I was so fucking tired of feeling like this waste of space all the time. Standing at that sink, suds slipping between my fingers as I washed each dish, I felt… solid, maybe even worthy. Like someone who wasn’t just taking up space.

It was a dangerous feeling. I couldn't afford to get used to it. To start needing it. Needing him. I'd learned the hard way never to need anyone.

But God, I wanted to feel that way again. That satisfaction of being useful to someone, of pleasing them. Shepherd had seemed so content with me quietly doing my work. He'd praised me, told me I'd done a good job. And it had lit me up inside in a way I'd never felt before.

I craved that feeling more than I'd ever craved a hit. More than I craved my next meal. What the hell was wrong with me? I couldn't let myself start depending on some rich guy I barely knew.

I pushed myself up off the bed, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts of last night. I couldn't sit here all day overthinking shit. Time to face reality.

I padded over to the door and pulled it open. The hallway was quiet, morning light slanting across the hardwood floor.

I made my way down the hall, the wood creaking softly under my bare feet. As I reached the living room, I turned towards the kitchen, half expecting to see Shepherd making breakfast.

I stopped dead as soon as I stepped into the kitchen. This wasn’t the Shepherd from last night. The air around him had shifted, charged, as if I’d wandered into a room with a live wire.

His eyes hit me first. Last night, they’d been warm and steady, but now they were piercing, focused in a way that pinned me in place. There was a cold sharpness there that sent a prickle of fear crawling over my skin.

My eyes flicked over the rest of him. He stood taller, his shoulders squared, posture almost predatory. The air around him seemed to crackle with a dark, coiled energy. Everything about the way he held himself screamed danger.

He was watching me, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth, but there was no warmth to it. I got the distinct feeling I was being sized up, like a wolf deciding if I was prey or a threat.

My heart rate kicked up as the man approached me, each step slow and deliberate. I backed away on instinct until I hit the wall. Fuck. I glanced towards the door, but he was blocking the way out of the kitchen.

“Shepherd?” I asked hesitantly, hating the way my voice came out all weak and thready.

The man tilted his head, studying me with those cold, assessing eyes. “No, little rabbit,” he said, his voice a low rasp that scraped down my spine. “Shepherd's gone.”

Shit. This had to be one of those alters Shepherd mentioned, but I didn’t know their names and I didn’t know how I was supposed to interact with them.

My mouth went dry as he stalked closer, until he was inches away, one hand braced on the wall next to my head. Standing this close, his presence was overwhelming. His scent was dark, almost feral, filling the air between us, and the warmth radiating off him seemed to seep into my skin.

“Call me Keres,” he said, his voice a low rumble in his chest.

I nodded jerkily, not trusting myself to speak. Keres. The name suited him, harsh and primal.

His dark eyes bored into mine, searching, probing. I felt flayed open beneath that penetrating gaze, like he could see straight into the darkest corners of my soul. A shiver slipped down my spine, and the way his eyes darkened told me he noticed.

Keres’s mouth curved, slow and hungry, the hint of a predator eyeing prey. He leaned in even closer until his lips brushed the shell of my ear as he spoke. “Do I frighten you, little rabbit?”

I shook my head, not sure if I was denying the fear or simply trying to clear the haze of sensation clouding my mind. Every inch of space between us felt electric, my senses caught on the places where we nearly touched.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry as I watched Keres's nostrils flare. He was... scenting me? What the actual fuck. But I couldn't deny the way my body reacted, arousal spiking through me despite the fear pounding in my veins.

Keres made a low, approving noise in his throat and leaned in even closer. I shuddered as he nuzzled into the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply, his stubble scraping my sensitive skin.

God, what was happening to me? I'd woken up in a strange house with an alter of the man who took me in, and now he had me pinned to the wall, sniffing me like he wanted to devour me.

I should be fucking terrified. I was on some level. But there was something else simmering under the fear. Something hot and needy that sent blood rushing south to my cock. The raw masculinity rolling off Keres in waves was doing things to me, making me ache in a way I never had before.

Keres pulled back far enough to look at me, his dark eyes burning into mine. Whatever he saw on my face made him rumble low in his chest.

He leaned in close again, his breath hot against my neck. Inhaled deeply, taking in my scent. Then he rubbed his cheekagainst mine, the rasp of his stubble sending sparks skittering across my nerve endings.

“You smell so fucking good,” he murmured, voice low and rough with arousal. “Like mine.”

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