He gave a firm nod. "Good things deserve good responses. So, if Pamela decides to stir up any trouble, count on me to step in and negotiate. The sooner we sort this out, the sooner we can hit the road. Now, are you finished here for the moment? I'll take you to dinner to kick off this meeting."
He strode toward me with undeniable confidence, effortlessly scooping me up into his strong, defined arms, and pressing me against his firm, warm, and perfectly sculpted chest.
I averted my eyes, savoring the sensation of being enveloped by him. What was happening to me? I had just met this man, yet here I was, utterly captivated. A deep, rumbling sound emanated from his chest, prompting me to steal a glance at his face. Our eyes locked—his blue-gray meeting mine—where a gentle warmth contrasted sharply with the bold masculinity of his features. The intensity in his gaze made my cheeks flush, and I instinctively looked down to escape his penetrating stare.
He chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent delightful shivers through me as he stepped out of the healer's hut, carrying me through the village I hadn't yet had the chance to explore. I glanced up, grateful for the distraction. The village was modest compared to Duarte Village, with simple huts and no second stories. The ground was mostly dirt, worn down paths where grass once thrived. Short, dry grass dotted the landscape, occasionally interrupted by a fruit tree. There was a small area with stalls, but they were all closed up for the night. The buildings had a rugged charm, and here and there, a post held a lantern, its light dim and flickering from low-quality luminescent crystals. Yet, the most stunning sight was the night sky, a canvas of twinkling stars—more than I had ever seen in my previous life. I could hear soft murmurs from within some of the huts, but it seemed that this town settled down early, embracing the tranquility of the night.
We arrived in silence, the air thick with all the things left unsaid. There was a palpable tension that made my stomach flutter with nerves. Before us stood a sizable hut nestled next to a gentle river, its condition far superior to many of the other structures around. Flanking the hut were several long wooden tables, intricately carved with powerful claws, accompanied by chairs hewn from hefty logs. Lanterns dangled from the trees above, casting a warm glow, while a charming floral arrangement graced the center of the three tables. The overall ambiance was surprisingly delightful.
Our host directed us to an empty table, where she took her place at the head, flanked by admirers who seemed eager to bask in her presence. At one table, a group of distinguished elderly beastkin held court, while another table was populated mostly by men, with a few women casting envious glances at the host and her entourage. Their irritation was palpable, especially as she occasionally shot them a smirk, clearly reveling in her elevated status. It was evident that Pamela thrived on being the queen bee, delighting in flaunting her popularity to the other women.
Titus began to lead me to a seat at the farthest table from Pamela, but that simply wouldn't do. I needed to have a word with her, and shouting across the gathering was not on my agenda. The presence of so many people only added to my discomfort. Who knew when another opportunity like this would arise? I had to resolve this today, especially since I planned to leave with Titus first thing tomorrow morning.
As Titus strode into the gathering with me in his arms, the self-satisfied smirk on her face evaporated, replaced by a flash of indignation. I could practically see her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized the way he held me so closely. Her gaze was laser-focused on his hands, brimming with disapproval. But as we neared her table, her demeanor did a complete one-eighty, transforming into a bright and cheerful welcome.
"I had no idea you two were such close friends. But honestly, did you grow up in a cave? Because where I come from, it's just not done to touch males unless you're seriously considering them for something more—like a mate or a servant. I mean, what kind of remote village did you crawl out of? In the real world, that kind of behavior is just not acceptable. I don't want to be rude, but I really wouldn't want people to think you're from some backwater tribe with zero class. And let's be real, you're so young that I doubt you've even experienced your first heat, considering no male has bothered to claim you yet—no mate bangle, no prospects. Maybe in a few seasons, when you're a bit more mature, it might be appropriate for you to be touched by a male. At that point, I could introduce you to a suitable first male, because not every male is proper to be a first mate for someone like you," she said with a stiff smile while Titus inched closer to me.
As she spoke, a handful of petite men emerged, balancing plates of food—presumably her servants. Just how many men has she crammed into that cozy little hut? I attempted to count them but lost track at twenty, overwhelmed by the bustling activity and not wanting her to catch me sizing up her entourage. Seriously, how does she keep all of them in line?
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. The thought of bringing this up made me jittery! Why couldn't Oliver have asked me for something less awkward? This was just plain uncomfortable!
"Speaking of mates, I was curious if you might consider releasing Sam to me," I said, cringing internally. I felt like a scandalous mistress asking the wife to step aside.
Pamela stared at me, her eyes wide with disbelief, then glanced at Titus before returning her gaze to me. The chatter at the tables came to a halt, and all eyes were on us, a mix of shock and amusement painting their faces. It was clear everyone was tuned in to this unexpected moment.
A slow, smug grin crept across her face, starting off as a mere smirk before blossoming into a full display of her sharp, pointy fangs. "Oh, Sam? He was my first male, you know, back when my family decided to settle in this quaint little village. At that time, there were no predator beastkin around, so I had to settle for the strongest prey beastkin available. And let's be honest, you know the drill—every girl needs a first male, or else it's straight to the Female Snatching Ritual. Can you imagine the chaos if I joined that? Males would be clawing at each other just for a chance with me, and honestly, that would just ruin the fun for everyone else. Only the desperate females get involved in that mess; we can't have any order if I'm in the mix. Now that there are predator beastkin around, though? I might just consider parting ways with that little prey. I mean, having a prey beastkin as my mate? So not my style. But hey, I'm sure he'll find someone who appreciates his... lack of fangs," she said with a casual shrug, then turned her gaze to Titus, fluttering her eyelashes like she was trying to shake out some imaginary dust.
I was on the verge of speaking up, so close I could taste it, but I held back my words. Offending her while trying to persuade her to comply with my rather inappropriate request seemed counterproductive. So, I opted for a smile and bit down on the inside of my cheek instead.
She hesitated, clearly expecting me to chime in, but when I remained silent, a flicker of annoyance crossed her face before she moved on. Clearing her throat, she tossed her hair over her shoulder just as a male servant approached with her drink. I couldn't help but notice the small army of at least thirty males milling about. My gaze drifted to the few women at the adjacent table, struggling to engage the available men with little success. It's a pity that Pamela, with her undeniable cuteness, had such a nasty streak. I've always found weasels charming too; it's a shame she comes with such an unpleasant personality.
She cleared her throat, clearly realizing I had momentarily tuned her out, and when I turned back, there she was with that oh-so-annoyed frown plastered on her face. It was almost cute how desperate she was to be the star of the show. So, I leaned in, elbows on the table, wearing my best "I'm totally captivated" face, all while suppressing the urge to roll my eyes. Satisfied that I was hanging on her every word, she flashed me another smile and carried on.
"I guess I've just outgrown him, and honestly, he's my only option for a beastkin mate. His personality? Not exactly my type, but hey, not everyone can snag a peak alpha male, right? She shot a look full of heart eyes at Titus. "If I were to hand Sam over to you, you wouldn't be rushing to find another male anytime soon, would you?" She noticed how cozy Titus was getting next to me again.
"Come on now," I said with a playful grin, flicking my wrist as if to brush off the idea. "I'm far too much of a novice to handle more than one guy at a time. That's precisely why I was hoping for a quiet beastkin; I tend to get all tongue-tied around males, particularly the ones who seem a bit daunting. Honestly, I should be the one asking you for some guidance."
"Oh?" she said and sat up straighter.
Coming Next Time: "Help Out"