The screen went black, only to be replaced with the same male. The message was much the same: demands for credits followed by a vague threat.
Rosemary turned the screen off. "I'll save you the time. They're all like that."
"That is Michael's sire."
"My ex, yeah." She gave a weak smile. "I sure can pick them, huh?"
"I do not think levity is appropriate at this moment."
"Am I laughing?"
"What does that male want? Why is he contacting you?" His mate was still covered in the scent of another male. Now this male communicated with her. Several times. Mene paced the floor, irritation pricking at his skin and horns. His tattoos burned with annoyance.
She shrugged a shoulder. "Vince wants money, like usual."
"You tolerate this behavior?"
He spun on his heel and was on her, towering above her. She gasped and took a step back, face ashen white.
"What's gotten into you?" Her voice trembled with the question.
"A male has been harassing my mate, and my mate did not trust me enough to seek help. You tell me, what is wrong with this situation?"
Her shoulders went back and her chin lifted, the fight returning to her. Good. Mene wanted a fight. "It wasn’t a problem. I had it under control."
"This is why you cannot return to Earth? This male?"
"Basically. I have a lawyer now. We filed a petition for custody. Vince doesn't have a legal leg to stand on." He growled as she said his name. Vince, Vince, Vince. Damn the stars that male was born under. His mate continued, "It's not a big deal. I know you're only helping me out because you're a good guy. I didn't want to bother you."
Not a big deal.
Only helping her out.
How many times had his mate reminded him that their arrangement was headed for failure? She so readily accepted this fatalistic outcome that she did not try to avoid it. She assumed the worst of him because she had only ever seen the worst of other males.
The tablet computer snapped in his hands, and he tossed the broken pieces to the floor. Rosemary backed away, putting the sofa between them. "What's going on in that head of yours, sugar plum?" Her voice was artificially high pitched and sweet. He frightened her.
She should be frightened. He was a killer. The Council did not send him on missions where the solution was a sit-down meeting and handshake. If they summoned Mene, the only solution was to be found in blood.
"Did you have relations with another male?"
"What? No. No," she repeated. "Where is this coming from?"
Where was it coming from? The stink of sex was unmistakable in the house. Jealousy clawed at his brain. "You claim innocence while you have the stink of another male on you." His lip curled in disgust.
"From his jacket!" She threw her hands up in the air. "You know what, I'm not talking to you when you're like this. Was it the booze? I only had a glass but you, Mene Rhew, are a mean drunk."
"I am not drunk." He wasn't. He had not touched alcohol all evening.
"Then you're just a bastard."
"Swear Jar," he said on reflex.
She grabbed her handbag and threw a handful of coins at him. They clattered to the floor. "Consider it a deposit because I fucking can't believe you have the goddamned nerve to accuse me of sleeping around."
"Is that not what Terrans do? Is that not what you told me? Your race is so chronically unfaithful that you have to make vows of fidelity to your mate, but even then it is temporary." That vile word again.
He followed the scent. She tossed her hands in the air and gave a soft, frustrated scream. She stomped up the stairs to their bedroom, following him.
“You know I’m not a virgin,” she said. "But that does not mean I'm boffing some random guy I met at a party."
He said nothing, chest heaving. The scent was stronger in this room. A musk.
Her musk of desire.
His mate continued to prattle, but all he could concentrate on was the source of the scent. “I have a son. That means I’ve had sex at least once—”
“Do not speak to me of other men,” he snapped. The scent was not on the bed sheets.
"Well, sunshine, it happened and don't you fucking dare try to slut-shame me."
He followed the scent into the cleansing room. There. In the shower. A pink device, silicone and shaped like a cock but curved with a bulbous head. He twisted the knob at the base and it rumbled to life.
"What are you—" She entered the room. She blushed, which told him he found something that she would rather keep secret. Always secrets with her. "That's private."
He held the device to his nose and inhaled. Her cunt. It was glorious. He fought the urge to lick it clean and then toss his wayward mate to the bed and taste the source.
"It has the scent of your cunt on it." Her blush intensified, which told him she was uncomfortable, but he continued to push. "What is the purpose of this device? Why does it vibrate?"
"You know—" She reached for the device, but he held it above her head, just out of reach. "Come on, don't be a jerk. Give it back."
"Explain."
"You know," she repeated.
"I do not know."
"Fine. Keep it. See if I care." She sat on the edge of the bed and crossed her arms over her chest. She lifted her chin and turned away from him.
"It is for sex." He stated the obvious, just to watch the blush spread across her face.
"Yes, okay. For masturbation. It's a vibrator. I use it, and that is a perfectly healthy thing to do." Her face burned bright red now.
"Show me," he said, thrusting the vibrator toward her.
"No!" She jumped back.
"I command it." He wanted to see this. He wanted her to demonstrate how a false cock could satisfy her and then he would demand to know how she could desire that and deny him.
"Well, tough cookies. I'm not in the mood."
"But you do get in the mood." First, she kept her problems with Vince secret from him, and now this.
She blinked, her green-brown eyes wide. "Of course. Everyone has urges."
"And you did not think to ask for my assistance to relieve you of these urges?" Another failure of trust.
"Oh, and did you ask for my assistance when you were spanking it in the shower?"
"Spanking?" His mate was nonsensical.
"I saw you in the shower, Mene! I saw you jerking your—" She waved a hand toward his groin. "Jerky, so don't get all high and mighty on me. It's normal."
Fury clouded his vision: fury at the situation and fury at himself for allowing it to progress so far.
He chose this. He chose her. For better or worse, those were the Terran words. She had warned him, and still, he refused to believe.
"It is normal for mates to share pleasure together," he said.
"You wanna fuck? Is that it? Fine. Fine!" She bent over the bed and flipped the bottom of the dress up, displaying her ass and the lacy panties she wore. She pushed the panties down, revealing smooth and creamy skin. Dark blonde hair and petal pink skin flashed briefly as she settled on her elbows. She wagged her ass at him, in a parody of invitation. "Come and get it, sugar plum. I'm a bit dry, and I'm just going to lay here, but you really don't care if I enjoy myself, right? So long as you get your nut."
He did not understand how the situation twisted. His mate was on their bed, presenting herself, asking for him. On the surface, it was exactly how he wanted the evening to end, but the reality was so far removed from what he envisioned.
He threw the vibrator against the wall, shattering it at the base. The motor sputtered a few moments before dying altogether.
"Cover yourself," he said, voice cold.
Rosemary
The man went from fire to ice so fast it made her dizzy. One moment he's panting, his eyes are sparking, and Rosemary genuinely believed he could hurt her and then nothing but ice. A complete glacial freeze.
Rosemary rolled to her feet, putting distance between herself and her husband. He
frightened her with a bone-deep, icy fear and that knowledge saddened her. She had bad ex-boyfriends, but none scared her like she was covered in gravy and locked in a cage with a very hungry, cranky beast. She had always believed Mene would be different. The Mahdfel cherished their mates. The relationships she had witnessed firsthand with Hazel and Seeran, even Tani and Oran, confirmed that. Mene had always made her feel comfortable and safe, even when while in a grumpy mood.
This was different, and she didn't know why, which added to her fear.
His head tilted to the side, and his nostrils flared. He smelled her fear, and that just seemed to make him angrier.
"You're jealous," she said, starting with the obvious.
“Yes.” His eyes flashed, cold and feral, as if he struggled to between the desire to eat her or fuck her. Either way she would be consumed.
"If you parade me around like an ornament, you can't be upset that others admire that ornament."
"We are no longer discussing that incident."
"Seems to me that's where the trouble started."
"Where this started? Female, you have kept secrets from your mate. From me!" In a rage, he stomped on the pink vibrator, crushing it under his heel. Rosemary cringed at the noise. "I have complied with your rules," he said, voice low and perilous.
"We both agreed to those rules, and you had demands, too." She lifted her chin as she spoke. She wouldn't be shamed. Not by him. Not by anyone.
"For all the good it did me."
Her mind raced through a lifetime of nature documentaries. Each had conflicting information when confronted with a dangerous predator. You shout at a bear and make yourself big. You don't look at a wolf and bow down, displaying submission. So what was he? Bear or wolf? Both agreed not to run, as that would trigger the instinct to attack.
The scarring across his face tugged his lips down, giving him a feral, dangerous appearance.
Fuck it. She wasn't about to run. Her good guy, her Meanie, the one she slept next to and the one she missed, was in there. He wouldn't hurt her, and she trusted him.
"You chose me," she said, taking a step toward him.
He clenched his hands. "A biological response to a fertile female. Nothing more than instinct."
"Bullshit. You chose me." She'd have to make a large deposit in the Swear Jar when their fight finished. Closer now, close enough to feel the heat of him. She placed a hand on his chest.
His eyes went wide at her touch. For a moment, Rosemary honestly did not know if he would throw her on the bed and ravish her or bite the offending hand.
"Female," he warned in a growl, fangs on display.
"I'm not frightened of you," she said, more for her benefit than his. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, and blood pounded in her ears. "And I know about the other two women."
He jerked his head back as if she had struck him. "What females?"
"The ones you were matched to. The ones you turned away." He could rant and rave about her not trusting him and keeping important information from him, but he had his secrets, too.
"They were inconsequential."
"They weren't." They were women just like her, who had a cheek swab done, technically married to a stranger, to Mene, and snatched away from their lives only to be sent packing. "They were the legal limit, ninety-eight point five, maybe even better. So don't you dare beat your chest and cry that I tricked you with a biological response. We're only ninety-seven percent compatible. You could have resisted me."
"Do not tell me how I felt when I saw you the first time."
"Yet you chose me."
"You needed assistance. It was charity, nothing more."
Now it was Rosemary's turn to flinch as if she had been struck. "So that's how it is? Your mother twisted your arm? You were coerced?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice. He had no more chosen her than she chose him. She was in a bind, and his mother bullied him into marrying her.
"Do not provoke me. You are trying to trick me into claiming a lie when I have already sworn to never lie to you."
Always with the tricks. "I'm trying to get you to be honest with me."
"What must I say to appease you?" He spread his arms wide.
"Appease me? I'm not the one throwing and stomping on shit."
"Because you do not take this seriously! You are my true mate, and yet you insist that my commitment is doomed to fail."
"We agreed—" She didn't understand where his anger came from. Jealousy she could parse. Sexually frustrated, she was right there, too. Withheld information? Guilty as charged. But this baffled her.
"No, I told you my intentions from the beginning. Again and again, I told you that I chose you. You are my true mate. No other. What must I do for you to believe me?"
"You can be honest with me. Neither one of us had a choice here, so stop acting like you're so fucking noble."
"I understand now." He kicked away the pieces of the crushed vibrator and marched down the stairs.
"Where are you going?" Rosemary followed him. She didn't understand how she was so angry with him and yet desperate enough to tug on his sleeve and beg him to return to their bedroom to make peace. She didn't want to fight, not really.
"Away. I have a mission."
"So you're leaving." Not a question, but a statement.
"I have a mission." Frost dripped from his voice.
"When will you be back?" Rosemary followed him through the house to the front.
He paused in the door but said nothing. Her only answer was the slam of the front door.
Chapter Seventeen
Rosemary
Thunder rattled the house. Briefly, the room flashed with lightning, and a figure stood in the door. Having difficulty sleeping herself, Rosemary sat up.
"Mom?"
"Sure, honey. Come on in." She patted the space on the bed next to her. She knew what he was going to ask. Michael had never liked thunderstorms. Particularly loud ones often drove him to her bed. This storm, though, was exceptional. The wind howled like a banshee around the cottage, shaking the building. She hoped the storm wasn't a typical spring storm.
"I can't sleep," her son said, climbing in next to her.
"Neither can I." Mene had been gone for a week now with no word. Not even a note to say he was still alive.
Their fight hadn't been that bad, she thought. Yes, in the heat of the moment, they had said things that would be difficult to take back, but she never expected him to leave. Not really. Not after he swore he would always return to her. Yet with each passing day that she received no communication from him, the more she feared he was gone forever.
Fears nibbled at her heels. The Mahdfel don't mate for life. He had said as much. They were devoted to a mate, yes, but divorce happened.
Was that what was happening? She hadn’t done anything wrong. She spoke to another guy, yes, and Mene completely lost his mind to jealousy. He had warned that he would become jealous. To be warned was one thing but to see it in person was another. Had he, in his anger, taken a needlessly risky mission?
The idea turned her stomach.
Nals’ words at the Council meeting came back to her. Mene wanted to choose his mate. It was the only choice he had some control over. He had rejected two other women because they were not his choice.
Was that what he was doing now? Searching for his true mate? Making his choice with another woman?
Stress burned in her heart. She needed to take an antacid but would suffer the discomfort for now. Stress always gave her heartburn.
What if he wasn't off chasing another woman but on a dangerous mission? What if that was what he had been trying to tell her before the argument spun out of control? He could be dead or injured, thinking she hated him.
She didn't.
She loved him. She loved his grumpy, moody behind. She liked falling asleep next to him and waking up in his embrace. She liked how her pulse raced when she heard his steps on the front porch. She liked how just being near him filled her body with
desire, matched only by the passion in his eyes. She even liked just hanging out on the sofa and watching films with him.
She loved how Michael accepted him. Adored him, really.
She frowned. If he never came back, he'd break Michael's heart, then she'd have to hunt him down and make him pay for hurting her baby.
She snaked her arm around Michael and pulled him to her side. He didn't fight, which concerned her. Normally he'd pull away and make claims about not being a baby. If he wanted comfort, something was up. "What's wrong?"
"I had a bad dream," he said. "He's going to be back for the Anwynhil?"
A clap of thunder made them both jump. Nervously, she laughed. "That sounded close, huh? That means the storm is going to pass us by soon."
"He promised."
"I know, honey, but he's on a mission. We knew he was a soldier. I guess this is what it's like." Waiting. Not knowing. Regretting the last words you said and wanting desperately to take those words back.
“Did he leave because of me?”
The quiet fear in her baby’s voice broke her heart. “No, honey. He didn’t leave because of you. Never you.”
“He hasn’t called? That doesn’t seem like him.”
“No, he hasn’t.”
Michael pulled away from her embrace. “You’re lying.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say.”
“You get all squinting when you lie.” He demonstrated, scrunching up his face.
“Okay, fine. I have a bad poker face. He came home the night you were at Reven’s.”
Lightning flashed and thunder clapped. Michael jumped in place. “And you didn’t get me?”
Rosemary tucked the blanket around them. “It was only for a few hours, and he wanted to see you. He did. You were the first thing he asked for when he came in. He wanted to go over to Reven’s house, but he didn’t have enough time.”
“So he really did go away on a mission?”
“Yes, honey.”
Alien Warlord's Passion (Warlord Brides Index Book 2) Page 20