Page 13 of The Silent Mate

“Wait,” she pleaded, pulling my fingers back to her impossibly soft cheek and holding my palm there. She leaned into my touch, and it bewildered me. “Where are you going?”

My brows knitted together, and, for the briefest second, I opened my mouth to answer her. No sound came out, but even the attempt sent pain prickling at my vocal cords. In the years following my injury, I made the same mistake countless times a day, but it hadn’t happened in half a decade. Somehow, this newness with Aria made me forget.

I immediately clamped my lips shut once more, embarrassed by my inability to answer such a simple question. Far more roughly than I intended, I yanked my hand back to grab the notepad from the nightstand.

Her eyes widened at my harsh treatment, something like hurt pooling in the blue, and I hated myself even more.

I needed to get the hell out of that room, before that hurt transformed into something worse. Ripping my eyes away from hers, I cast the notepad on the mattress but didn’t wait for her to read it.

Instead, I turned on my heel and retreated. Just like a damn coward.

6

ARIA

After Malik stormed out of the room, sleep evaded me. Instead, I decided to shower in an effort to find clarity amidst the turmoil in my head. I turned the water to hot and waited until steam rose to the ceiling before slipping inside.

Almost immediately, I sank onto my backside on the stone floor and hugged my knees, allowing the scalding liquid to rain down on my head and shoulders. I welcomed the burn. It distracted me from the strange tightness in my chest.

I must’ve read Malik’s note a hundred times after he left, memorizing its contents and the way he’d scrawled the letters across the paper. The note…confusedme.

It hinted at affection, with his use of the endearment ‘little dove’ and the words ‘our home.’ Something in my stomach fluttered at the way he’d signed the note, ‘Yours, Malik.’

Yours.Did he mean that?

Moon Goddess, I didn’t know. Because his actions starkly contrasted the note’s warmth. He’d snatched his hand away fromme, as if he couldn’t stand the thought of touching me. Then, without another word, he’d stalked out of the room like I’d angered him.

HadI angered him? I cradled my head in my hands, letting my wet hair fall in front of my face. I groaned in frustration, even while I blinked back tears that stung my eyes.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

After sitting on the floor of the shower for several minutes longer, I forced myself to rise and step into the drafty bathroom to dry off. Rather than snoop through the drawers and cabinets for a fresh towel, I grabbed Malik’s towel off the nearest hook.

With water still dripping in rivers down my naked body, I brought the towel to my nose and inhaled a shaky breath. There, mingled with the smell of soap and dampness, was his scent. Tobacco leaf and mint and something else… Something that made my blood warm and seep directly to the spot between my legs.

Oh hells.I closed my eyes and recalled the feeling of him pressing into my lower back, nestled between the globes of my backside.

As soon as he woke up, he’d jerked away from me and retreated to the bathroom to shower, but my heightened senses could still scent the evidence of his arousal—hisneed—on this towel, even after he’d gone.

He desired me, that much was clear. Satisfaction curled in my stomach at the knowledge. At least hisbodyrecognized our bond.

I dried off, hoping that hints of my mate’s scent would linger on my body throughout the rest of the day. With newfound hope in my steps, I left the bathroom in search of fresh clothes to wear. Unfortunately, I could only find spare t-shirts in the closet. The accompanying men’s jeans would’ve fallen off of my body,so I opted to wear my same pants as yesterday in combination with one of Malik’s shirts.

The fabric hung off of my body like a potato sack, hiding any good feature I possessed. The t-shirt’s hem reached the middle of my thigh, and the collar sagged below my clavicle. I’d need to get in contact with my father, both to check in on him and to ask him to send me a few boxes of clothes…

By the time I finished dressing, the first rays of dawn started to leak through the window. I combed my fingers hastily through my damp hair before approaching the door.

Malik’s note had promised that his friend, Emerson, would be waiting for me. A part of me doubted that she’d already be there, but when I dared to crack open the door, a young woman stood with her hands clasped in front of her, a pleasant smile gracing her lips.

“Good morning,” she chirped, her smile widening.

She had a slightly crooked front tooth and a smattering of freckles across her pretty face, and auburn hair fell straight to her breasts. She couldn’t have been much older than me, in her mid-twenties at the most.

“Emerson?” I wondered, peering a bit further beyond the heavy door. I’d nearly forgotten how dark and, frankly, medieval the hallways were.

She responded with an eager nod. “And you’re Aria. Malik told me to stay with you until he returns from training.”

Training.Sothatwas where he’d run off to.

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