Lorcan & Evette

Chapter Seventeen

"Evie?" She heard a clanging. Something not so far from her head. "Come on witch. It's time to wake up. We've got a big day and I'm going to need your help."

His voice was lovely- sexy and deep- but it was nowhere near the top of the list of voices she wanted to wake up to.

Groaning, she rolled over to face away from him, burying her head in the pillows.

If I'm going to die, I'll make the most of this.

"Come on witch. Busy day. It's time to get up."

Easy enough for him to say. He wasn't going to die soon. No matter how many times he said he wouldn't hurt her, she didn't have it in her to believe him just yet. 

She felt a sinking on the mattress beside her and felt him grab her side. She waited for him to jostle her awake, or to snap out an irritated 'up'. Neither came.

He reached out a hand for her hair, scraping it back from her face. His fingers got lost in it, allowing those white, blonde locks to glide over his claws.

"Come on witch. We're burning daylight hours."

He was being weird. Almost nice. She wasn't buying it.

"Go away."

"No can do Evie. You need to wake up. I need your help. I got you something too."

She struggled to believe that. But curiosity got the best of her. Sluggishly, she rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. The werewolf was already dressed in clothes that fit him properly. He was smiling too—sort of.

There was a nervous edge to his smile, almost like he was testing the waters.

It took her mind a minute to clock what he'd taken to calling her. Evie. So he is capable of listening.

That totally didn't win him any points.

"Alright then," she said. "You said you've got something for me. Where is it?"

"Good morning to you too."

Yep. He was being weird.

"Well?"

He adjusted the covers around her as she sat up, seemingly tender. Then he reached to the bedside table for a plate. He propped it on her lap, then moved to sit beside her.

She stared down at it blankly. He'd made her breakfast. When she leaned down to smell it, he took that as another victory.

"Do you like it?"

"I don't know yet. It depends- is it poisoned?"

His mate thought he'd poisoned her food. Just how deep did this damage run?

You brought this upon yourself.

And now it was down to him to fix it. His fuck-ups. His responsibility.

Taking the fork from her, he scooped up some of the eggs and made sure she watched him swallow.

He then made to hand the fork to her, though she made no effort to take it.

"Come on Evie. You can see I haven't poisoned it. I'm trying to do this better. Will you work with me?"

"Do what better?"

He fell quiet for a moment. How to tell her that he was trying not to push his mate away without telling her that?

Since waking up, he'd had time to contemplate. He'd decided that not telling her- for now- was for the best. He did want to keep his head on his shoulders, after all. Keeping her safe would be easier if she didn't actively hate his guts— well, more than she did already. Even if he hadn't lied, he had a feeling she wouldn't react well to a mate bond with a werewolf. He recalled her panic in her shop when she'd thought otherwise.