Rogue Mate, The Moltiare Collection: Bk1 (Sample)(Available on Amazon/SW)

Chapter 6 (Ethan)

Cinnamon. She liked cinnamon, and I learnt that very quickly. She had followed behind me until we reached the kitchen, pulling herself onto one of the stools once I pointed them out to her. I had found myself reading the names off boxes that I hadn’t even brought into the house, rattling off the names of foods that I knew we had, and each time I paused, I looked back to see if they had sparked an interest in her eyes. For a while I saw nothing but fear. Fear of my movements, fear of my hands, and fear of me.

“There’s peanut butter...and some sort of paste that Marie calls almond butter.” I wrinkled my nose as I moved the jar aside, “There are some canned peaches in here. Pears, Pineapples, and I think that’s salsa. I know we have some tortilla chips somewhere.”

I looked back at her but her eyes were no longer on me. They were over my shoulder, staring at something with interest gleaming in her eyes, but after a moment she noticed me watching and went back to staring at her knees.

Her cheeks were turning red as I turned back around, attempting to follow her line of sight. Still, all I found were canned fruits and a couple boxes of cereal, but there, peeking out from behind boxes was a plastic wrapper. So I tugged it loose and soon I was holding a lopsided cinnamon roll.

It looked like it had been stuffed between the boxes in an effort to get the groceries put away and had been forgotten about. The icing was smeared under the plastic wrapper, and dough looked so flattened on one side that it was almost pancake like. Flakes of cinnamon peeked out through the creases, and the soft swirl in the center held the promise of a soft and sugary bliss, but nothing seemed to be wrong with it so I opened another cabinet and pulled out a small plate.

The scent of cinnamon and vanilla icing burst into the air as I popped open the bag, sliding the pastry onto the plate and placing it in front of her.

Just like before, she didn’t move or speak. She stared at her knees as I waited for her to take a bite, but then I had remembered the way she seemed to relax when I had left the room to get the ice, and the way her shoulders seemed to loosen when she thought that I wasn’t looking. I allowed myself to step away from her, moving back towards the living room before I took a seat on the couch.

Without a word, I picked up the book that I had been reading and opened it up again. I allowed the words to fill my mind, periodically looking up to find that she was still sitting there, staring at her knees, but after a while I found myself lost in the chapter and when my eyes looked up again, the cinnamon roll had vanished. The only evidence of its existence was the small chip of icing and the specs of cinnamon that lined the corners of her mouth.

Afterwards she had taken the papers from her lap and stared at them some more. I pretended to go back to reading, but she had moved into the living room as well, pulling her legs close to her as she sat in the chair furthest from me. She stared at the pen on the coffee table until I leaned up and slid it over. I pretended to go back to reading, acting like I didn’t notice when she took it in her hands and began to move it over the page.

When she woke up the next morning, Marie was there to greet her at the stairs, explaining that Aaron and I had already left. We had all agreed that it would be easier and draw less attention if she had arrived separately, and from what Marie told me, she simply kept quiet and went along with the plan.

I had watched her as she came up the school steps, passing by as if she didn’t know me and keeping her scent bottled up inside. I made sure to listen to every comment some of the pack members had made. None of them noticed her.

But they noticed the way that I was staring. The first day, Marie had informed me that we shared the same study hall, and since then I had made it a point to search for her, to check up on her. I hadn’t found her yet, but I wasn’t giving up. I wanted to speak to her, to know her, even if she only nodded or shook her head in return.