Sunshine Mated (Ouachita Mountain Shifters Book 8)

Home > Other > Sunshine Mated (Ouachita Mountain Shifters Book 8) > Page 5
Sunshine Mated (Ouachita Mountain Shifters Book 8) Page 5

by P. Jameson


  “I hear you Destiny. I always hear you.”

  I know but—

  “I hear you.”

  But are you going to take action? Are you going to fight for your happily ever after?

  “I’ll get back to you on that, okay?”

  Seconds ticked away.

  Then I shall wait with bated breath.

  He felt the Elder leave his mind, and the instant she did, he let his mountain lion explode out of his body with a thunderous roar.

  Chapter Five

  “Achoo!” Adira sat up in the bed, jerking another tissue from the box, and dabbed at her leaky nose before tossing it to the floor. She stared at the pile she’d created. It was a mountain of white crumpled paper and snot.

  This was ridiculous.

  After calling Father Isaac, she’d returned to her room to have a good cry over her decision. But after a couple tissues, the sneezing started up. And then came the pressure behind her eyes. The burning in her throat that made it hard to swallow. The airy feeling in her head that made lying down a necessity.

  She glared at the tissue mountain.

  A cold. She was coming down with a cold. What terrific timing her body had. Couldn’t it have waited until she was gone from the lodge. Or hey, what about waiting until after the equinox.

  Easing out of bed, she waited for her head to stop spinning before she bent and collected the tissue mountain from the floor. She tossed the whole mess into the wastebasket by the door and while she was there, decided to lock it. She never feared for her safety here with the shifters. Her privacy either. But clearly Mason thought he could come and go as he pleased.

  Time to put a stop to that.

  Leaning back against the door, she stared toward the bathroom considering a quick shower. But the walk to the trashcan had done her in. She was zapped for energy.

  Maybe some magic would help. She was running low, but if she pulled from the lights in the room, she might be able to create enough energy to last her for a quick rinse off. It might make her feel better.

  She’d only lit the lamp from her bedside table so she focused on it. It was artificial light, so much less powerful than something natural like a flame or the moon. But it wouldn’t matter anyway. Her ability to use the light for magic was waning.

  Limply, she waved her hand in the direction of the lamp and muttered the spell under her breath. A spark of energy touched her and she repeated the phrase three more times. The effect was weak, but it was something. She felt a smidge less like roadkill. She crossed her fingers, hoping it’d be enough to get her through the shower.

  Slogging to the bathroom, she worked her long sleep shirt up and over her head, dropping it on the floor outside the door. She sneezed again, groaning at the way her nose felt three times its normal size. At the sink, she looped her hair on top of her head, pinning it in place so it wouldn’t get wet. There’d be no washing her long locks today. This was a clean-the-crucial-spots mission.

  Reaching inside the stall, she turned the water on and waited for it to warm before stepping in. But as soon as the warm spray hit her body, she wilted against the chilled tile wall, her energy exhausted. She rested all her weight there, surprised the energy spell hadn’t lasted longer.

  Weak. She was weak, and not only because she was sick. She was losing a piece of herself. An element that had been with her ever since the beginning when she was born from the mystics and given to Father Isaac and the tutors. Her light. It was more than just a conduit for her magic, like with her sisters and other Sorcera. Light was who she was. She was The Lightest. It was her name. Her title. It was her.

  Father Isaac had given her the title the first time he’d held her as a baby. He’d presented them each with names of meaning. Nastia meant resurrection. Mirena meant peace and prosperity. Funny how their names had been prophetic.

  But Adira meant majestic, and there was no way to meet those expectations. Being majestic was ridiculous burden to bear. It was reserved for gods and goddesses, and she wasn’t that.

  As the story went, the moment Father Isaac touched her, the room filled with a flash of light brighter than any lightning. She’d made daylight without even trying. It set the place aglow and flowed through Father Isaac so he glowed too. Like the tail end of a firefly.

  “This little one contains much magic,” he’d declared.

  When the power surge dimmed, he and the tutors agreed they’d never seen another Sorcera child imparted with so much light that it shone out of them, as it did with Adira. So they’d named her The Lightest.

  Fat lot of good it did her now. All that magic was dimming to nothing.

  She wondered if when the darkness enveloped her completely, would she leak shadows the same way she radiated.

  When she’d arrived at the lodge, she could still produce blinding light when she made magic. Now… now she couldn’t even draw enough inside to get through a quickie shower.

  With a title like the Lightest, people expected her to be exceptional. To be able to beat every odd. Conquer any foe. They equated her title with meaning the most powerful. Which simply wasn’t true. Maybe she had the fairest moral compass, or could see things more black and white, but her light didn’t give her more abilities than any other Sorcera. If anything, it had caused her to need to work harder.

  Did the tutors know what burden they were placing on her when they’d bestowed that name? The constant expectation to come through in the tightest of pinches, and the way she’d bend over backward trying to meet those expectations?

  Maybe they did. Maybe they knew she’d need to try harder than anyone else when her time came to transition. Maybe they were training her to be a fighter underneath her polite and demure exterior.

  Maybe it was why she had a quippy mouth.

  Maybe she was a wildcard, and no one knew it, not even herself.

  Pushing off from the wall, she angled herself under the spray and made sure it touched all the important parts of her body. She even tried to scrub a little.

  Deciding it was good enough, she limply batted at the faucet until the water cut off, and was rewarded with another sneeze. Followed by a repeat.

  “Ughhh.”

  Head feeling like a pile of bricks balancing on her shoulders, she stepped out of the stall and swung her arm blindly toward the rack for a towel. Yanking one free, she wrapped it snugly around her middle, and shuffled for the door.

  “Achoo!”

  A nasally yip clawed its way up her throat as she stepped into the room and realized she was not alone.

  Mason was mere feet away, leaned against the door. The door she’d locked. His hands were jammed deep in his pockets, and when her noise of surprise hit the air, his gaze jerked to her. He looked different. Messier. Unruly, even. And his eyes flickered from feline to his normal human gold. Something she noticed all the shifters did when they were feeling too hard. When they were reckless.

  Adira was stuck to her spot as Mason stared. A lock of dark hair covered the edge of one eye as his wild gaze took her in, starting with her eyes and making a hungry, hot journey downward. Over her shoulders, her cleavage where the towel was tucked, across her hips, all the way to her toes before sliding back up.

  A delicious chill rolled up her spine at the way he eyed her. She’d never seen it before. Not in any of their interactions. She’d felt the connection her sister picked up on, sure, but Mason had never looked at her like he wanted her more than his next heartbeat. Like he was a starving man and she was a life-saving morsel of bread.

  I’m not for you, and you are not for me. His words from before tapped at her brain, making the throbbing behind her eyes worse.

  But those words didn’t match the feral look in his eyes. They didn’t match his heavy breathing that pumped his wide chest and made his shoulders broader with each inhale. The way his fists clenched and unclenched at his hips.

  And Adira was caught in his spell. In his intensity. She’d recognized it in him from the beginning, that he cared
hard. That he did everything with his whole heart. It was what made his reaction to Mirena’s suggestion hurt so bad. When it came to Adira, he wasn’t all in. He was one foot in, the other trying to run.

  It was confusing. But right now, she was the focus of that intensity, and it captured her.

  “Achoo!” Her hand flew to her nose just in time to cover the glob hanging from one nostril. Gross.

  Annnd the spell was broken.

  “Kleenex,” she murmured.

  “What?” Mason frowned, still looking wild, but definitely less intent on devouring her.

  “Tissue,” she said waving her other hand in the direction of the box by the bed. Her towel slipped and she snatched it before it came undone completely.

  But Mason had noticed, and now his gaze was focused on her cleavage.

  “Mason! Kleenex. Please!”

  “Oh.” He jerked his gaze back to her face. “Yeah.”

  Scooping up the box, he brought it over and she yanked free two tissues, aiming her head away and quickly wiping at her nose.

  She let out an exhausted groan before asking the question that was burning her mind. “How did you get in here?”

  She should be mortified that he was seeing her like this. Practically naked, blowing snot out of her nose at random intervals. But she couldn’t muster the energy to care. No man had ever seen this much of her body. Nor had any man watched her sneeze so much. She was some weirdo’s fantasy probably, somewhere. Maybe Mason should feel privileged.

  “I used the key.”

  She stumbled past him to the bed and somehow managed to climb in and pull the covers up before sneezing again.

  “What key?”

  “I have a master.”

  She pulled the tissue away to blink at him, and he glanced away seeming the teensiest bit ashamed. But when his gaze returned, his jaw was set and the shame had disappeared.

  “You used your special master key to break into my room? Did you ever think maybe I didn’t want a… a… visitor? Achoo! Achoo!”

  He opened his mouth to say something, the expression on his face determined and serious. But then he stopped, a frown curving his lips as he stared back and forth between the tissue box and her.

  Adira moaned, burrowing into her pillow. She didn’t have it in her to argue with him. Later. Later she’d let him have it for breaking in. Right now she just wanted to sleep.

  “Sunshine?”

  “Hm?” Her answer was mostly muffled by the pillow.

  “Are you okay? Why are you going through tissues like they’re oxygen?”

  She took a breath to answer, but it felt like too much work.

  “Are you… well, fuck. Are you coming down sick?”

  She nodded, face still plastered to the pillow.

  Mason was silent for so long, she wondered if maybe he’d quietly slipped out. The blank air in the room lulled her even further until she was drifting off to sleep. Yes. Sleep. Just a little of it and she’d probably feel better.

  A hand moving softly down the back of her head pulled her back from that sweet approaching bliss. She felt Mason’s fingers carefully pick the pins from her hair. Heard them clink as he dropped them on the bedside table. Gently, he unraveled the twisted locks until they were straight and lying over the side of the pillow. Then he pulled the blankets the rest of the way up and tucked them around her shoulders.

  Her soft heart went molten for him in that moment.

  He comforted her like nothing else ever had in her life. Her body relaxed farther into the bed, her achy muscles easing. The stress of her troubles melted away as sleep hovered on the brink. She felt safe. His actions made her feel… loved.

  So why did his actions and words so often clash? What was she missing?

  “Rest, Sunshine,” he murmured near her ear. “I know just what to do.”

  With that, she let herself fall hard. She didn’t even care if he heard her snore. Another privilege.

  Sleep. Then she’d figure her cat out.

  Chapter Six

  Mason stared down at Adira as a small snore lifted a strand of hair draped across her face. The sight of her sleeping so soundly while he watched over her gave him such a rush of satisfaction he could hardly breath through it. His cougar puffed its chest, all kinds of possessive feelings rolling through him, convincing him even further of what he’d decided in the woods.

  Sunshine was his.

  Maybe they’d never be able to have a traditional mating bond. But he could do what the other cats in the clan had done. He could commit. He could be hers.

  And maybe they were doomed because of the darkness coming for her. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to anchor in time. But they could try. He could hope.

  Shit, their hope was a frail bastard though. Hard to hang your hat on a prayer.

  Except it didn’t matter how hopeless their situation was. That’s what he’d worked out with his animal in the woods. That’s what the cougar roared at him with all the fury of a desperate cat driven by one thing only. Animal instinct. If he wanted to save Adira, he needed to go at this hard. There could be no more hesitancy. No more wavering. No more worrying he was going to ruin her.

  They were both equally fucked up, and she was his, for the entire fucked up ride.

  But… after she was well. First, he’d care for her. Starting with some soup. And Vicks. Some Advil. And a couple movies. Extra Kleenexes. Comfy clothes. He’d grab some essential oils from the spa, and a humidifier. He’d go now, and be back before she woke.

  He dug for his phone in his pocket and dialed the kitchen as he slipped out of Adira’s room. “I have a sick female,” he said when Eagan answered.

  “Heh. So do I. She’s sick in the best fucking ways too. But I doubt the ladies would want us swapping stories about our sexcapades.”

  Mason rolled his eyes as he strolled down the hall toward the lobby.

  “I mean sniffles and shit. Get out the gutter, that’s my place.”

  “Was your place,” Eagan corrected. “You’re all clean and sparkly now. When’s the last time you told a dirty joke anyway? When’s the last time you called yourself the Pussy Whisperer?”

  Mason snorted. Yeah, he wasn’t that anymore. Hadn’t been for a long time. He’d given himself to many a female in his years here. He had physical needs and no mate for his future. He’d let loose and been proud of it. Maybe there was even a part of him that looked at it like a form of revenge on Deana, for everything she’d done.

  But he was over that now. Over hating her. Over loving her. Over what she’d done to him and Jordy.

  Now there was only one body he cared to whisper to. It belonged to a doomed female that made waking up every day seem like a good idea instead of just something he was expected to do. And she had a cold he intended to make better somehow.

  “Listen, can you whip up some of that sick soup you make?”

  “The chicken noodle with bone broth and my secret cold remedy ingredients? Why, sure. Of course I can. I’ll even throw in some homemade biscuits. This wouldn’t happen to be for a certain rhyming witch, would it?”

  The fact that he just assumed it was Sunshine made Mason smile. “It is. Thanks, Eagan.”

  “Sure thing.”

  The call ended just as he reached the check-in desk to talk to Layna. Mason waited for her to finish her own call.

  “… sure Mrs. Markel, I can pencil you in.” Mason waived his hands in the air to catch her attention and Layna paused, frowning. “One moment, Mrs. Markel.”

  “Is that for me? She scheduling for another massage?”

  Layna nodded.

  “I’m unavailable.”

  “For how long?” she hiss-whispered.

  “For the foreseeable future.”

  Layna gave him a quizzical look.

  “Gotta focus on keeping Sunshine safe. I’m out until she’s good. You understand?”

  Layna’s tough gaze softened, and she gave him an understanding nod before answering Mrs. Markel. �
��My apologies, Mrs. Markel but it looks like Mason will be unavailable for the next few weeks. He’s taking some personal time, you see. Mm hm. Yes. Okay. I’ll tell him. Yes, you have a nice night too, and don’t get in too much trouble. Bye bye.” The grin that crept up while she was chatting faded away as she hung up. “Mrs. Markel was very excited you were taking personal days. She said to tell you… actually, she told me to sing it to you, and for some reason, I’m gonna do what she said…” She took a deep breath before belting out, “doooon’t stop belieeeeving, just hold on to that fee-ee-eeling.”

  Mason stared, open mouthed.

  “What?” Layna’s eyes went shifty as she looked around to make sure no guests were within hearing range. “I’m just relaying the message. What does it mean anyway? And should I find it weird that you have inside jokes with Mrs. Markel, or no?”

  He couldn’t help his lips curling in a smile. That rascally old lady. She probably thought he was getting some bump and grind, when really he was taking time off to watch over his female. But message received. She was reminding him to believe in Adira.

  Mason shook his head, ignoring Layna’s question. He was here for some items.

  After relaying his list to her, they went around the lodge collecting the things he needed to help his female get comfortable. By the time he had everything, his arms were nearly full. He juggled boxes of tissues, bottles of smelly things, movies, and other extras as he carefully made his way to the kitchen for the soup.

  Rounding the corner before the entrance to the dining room, he slowed when a quiet conversation reached his ears. Instinct had his hackles up so he stopped just on the other side of the wall to listen.

  “Should I try to reverse the spell?” Mirena asked, her voice wavy with panic. “What if I screwed up? What if I made everything worse?”

  “Calm down,” Nastia said, but her voice held the same edge. “We were desperate. We’re being as safe as we can be, but we’re running out of time. You did the right thing. Give it time, you’ll see.”

  “How are you so sure?”

  “I… I’m not really. I just know that if the tables were turned, she’d do the same thing. Take chances. Just like you did. It will be okay, sister. It has to be.”

 

‹ Prev