Page 11 of The Alpha's Bounty
Mina draws a breath that sounds like a sob in reverse, air rushinginbecause something let go inside her.“Holy… God.”
I step back and give her room to look.She does.Eyes wide, mouth soft, scanning the line of my shoulders, the breadth of my chest, the light reflecting from my claws.She walks a half-circle, staying near the table like I asked.My bear huffs.Brave.
“You… You’re really…” She can’t seem to finish her sentence.
I chuff.Affirmation.
“Cyrus,” she whispers.
I instantly shift back.The room snaps to its human edges again.My knees hit wood.My breath stutters as my lungs resize.Chilled air licks over my skin as I haul my jeans on with fingers that have too few joints for a second.Shirt next.Socks.Boots.I stand, roll my shoulders, and lift my gaze to her.
Mina still looks like she’s in shock.
“Questions?”I ask softly.
She nods hard.“A thousand.”
“We’ve got time.”I glance at the window.The sky is tilting toward afternoon.“But I think you could use some rest first.”
She nods again, shifting on her feet.
“Can we…” She gestures around, suddenly unsure.“Can you show me the rest of your place?If I’m staying.”
Staying.The word tucks itself under my ribs.My bear roars happily.
“Yeah.Come on.”
I give her the tour like a man who’s never done this in his life because I haven’t.The pantry, the mudroom, the small office at the back of the house, the safe set into the wall behind an old map.
We head upstairs and down the hallway lined with photos.My parents on the porch.One of me in my father’s old flannels that looks three sizes too big for me.Rhodes and I at eighteen, bruised and grinning after a stupid fight we both won.Camden scowling at a birthday cake we set on fire and called a candle.I don’t pause long enough for her to study them.Time for that later.
I save the bedroom for last because I’m not an idiot.I sleep like a bear even in my human form, and I like space.Windows on two walls.A bed I built myself from reclaimed timber.A quilt my mother made with blue squares that look like river water.A dresser, a chair in the corner where I read at night when the house is too quiet.The bathroom off it is stone and glass, with a shower big enough to turn around in.
Mina stands in the doorway, gripping the strap of her pack as if it’s a harness keeping her from floating off.“It’s nice.”
“Thanks,” I say easily.“It’syourroom if you want it.”
She snaps her attention to me.“No, I-I can’t take your?—”
“I’ll take the couch.”
“You can’t.It’syourhouse.”
“And you haven’t been somewhere safe for longer than is decent.”I meet her eyes.“Take the bed.”
She stares.“This is crazy.”
My laughter is a little wild.“Yeah.It is.”
Her lashes lower.“Thank you, Cyrus.”
“Of course.Anything you need, it’s yours.”
Mina takes a breath like a swimmer on the block.“I don’t know how to do this.”
“Me neither,” I admit, smiling crookedly.“So, we’ll do it badly until we get better.”
That pulls the smallest answering smile from her, surprised and unwilling and beautiful.
