I watched her devour that
first burger
with such
unrestrained enjoyment
that I almost forgot to eat my own meal. It was oddly... captivating.
This woman who minutes ago had held a knife to a man’s throat, now
licking sauce from her lips
with such obvious pleasure in the taste. She didn’t attempt to maintain the
delicate behaviors
I’d seen countless times across boardroom lunches.
No strategically small bites for the sake of a
more feminine appearance
and no dabbing at corners of the mouth between
measured
words. My m-... Citra Lomdi ate like someone who
understood hunger
.
Who knew its sharp edges and didn’t have time for
pretense
. When she finally paused, polishing off the last of the potato wedges while eyeing the second milkshake with
a strange amount of wariness
... I asked a question.
"Was the food to your liking?"
"Quite acceptable. Though perhaps that... was just the hunger talking."
I think back to the bites of my own sandwich, and how I savored it
more than usual
. Like every little bite contained more of
something
when sitting here next to her.
An item I’ve ordered here a hundred times... but I may
never enjoy it again
. Because it is sure to be
tasteless
without Citra sitting across from me.
My wolf strained against my control, urging
closeness
. Demanding I move to her side of the table instead of
keeping myself
firmly in place.
For someone so
vehemently opposed
to our wolves’ connection, she had a curious habit of
sneaking glances at me
throughout the walk here - and while eating. When she thought I wasn’t looking or couldn’t
sense her gaze
.
Quick, assessing flickers of those
striking gray eyes
that I wanted to stare at from even closer. Each one sent a
quiet roar
through me, despite my effort to not respond and
ruin
her... curiosity.
It was strange to think I’d negotiated mergers
worth billions in corporate assets
with less intensity in my heart than I felt now. Sharing
relatively cheap
food truck meals with this... barely understood woman.
Perhaps it was because those
transactions
came with clear rules, expectations, and agreements spelled out in
immaculate legal language
. This... whatever this was or wasn’t between us... had no such
clarity
.
Fated mate potential as
werewolves
, half-strangers
otherwise
. An
attraction
between us that must be clear to both of us, but
resisted
for different reasons.
The way she
blushes
and
doesn’t seem to fully realize it sometimes
is adorable.
As I took another drink to
cool off
, I thought back to the alley - to the moment I’d slammed
that rogue
against the wall. The
rage
that had filled me when I saw him
lay hands on her
wasn’t something I could easily explain.
It went beyond the
territorial instinct
I’ve felt when
defending
my pack. Something about Citra brought out both my most
primal
reactions and my most
careful restraints
.
A
paradox
I was still struggling to reconcile. Which is why I ventured to ask another question after the silence had stretched between us
too long
again.
"I’ve been wondering. Where are you staying tonight?"
Her eyes
immediately
narrowed. I could almost see the walls of hers
climbing back up
inside them.
Ones built
especially
for me - but with a sense of practice. A
necessity
that was born long before we met?
"I’ll find somewhere."
Of course. She’d
survived
coming to the city
without
my help. Still, after that
confrontation
earlier...
"I’m sure you will. But with what happened..."
I nodded in agreement and tried to keep my voice matter-of-fact, rather than as
incredibly concerned
as I truly was. I pulled out my phone and paused... feeling that this may be too ’presumptuous’ or perhaps...
controlling
?
"I have a list of locations within the safer places in Vossden. Nothing overly fancy, but cleaner than the Starlight Suites - and in areas where my pack maintains more regular patrols. May I send it to you?"
"You prepared a list?"
The
suspicion
in her voice was unmistakable. I could have lied, but something told me
honesty
... even if it
revealed too much
of my hand, was the better strategy with Citra.
She isn’t a
business
partner. I don’t need to have a
firm
high ground. She is-
"I... worry. Is that so terrible?"
Her expression shifted when I
simply
admitted it, the sharp edges ready to say something snarky just softened and
dazed
. Like she wasn’t used to incredibly
straightforward
answers without manipulation behind them.
Something I do
sort of understand
, with my position. I suspected few people in her life had ever been
genuine
with her.
"Fine. You can send it."
With that
almost too quiet
response received, I quickly pulled up the document I’d prepared
the very night
I saw her going into that motel. Research I did on my own instead of involving Claire.
Selections of motels, extended-stay inns, and a
few small apartment buildings
with month-to-month leases I would sign in a heartbeat
if she asked
. Places where she could remain
independent from me
or anyone else... but where I could reasonably
ensure
her safety.
"Done. No pressure from me to use any of them, but they’re options that I wanted you to have."
The string lights overhead provided most of the illumination, as the nearest street light had been
broken for a year
. Citra looked no less
fierce
, cautious, and intelligent underneath the low light.
Curiously thick hair, drawn up into that pair of high tails somehow draws attention to the proud,
often raised
line of her jaw. I’d been so busy
watching her
as she started to gather her trash and place it in a nearby bin... that I almost didn’t expect her to talk when she walked back.
"Thank you for dinner. It was... not terrible."
Such a small allowance of
almost praise
seemed to surprise even her and I couldn’t help but laugh at her quickly vexed face. A
real laugh
, not the polite chuckle I used in business luncheons.
"High acclaim. I’ll take it gratefully."
My hand reached to give back
her shopping bag
, but something unexpected happened. Citra suddenly pulled out the phone she carried... the
hunter’s
phone.
With a blue sticker of a
fox
? The
flash
caught me mid-movement as she stepped back quickly.
For a moment, I just stared at her in confusion.
Frozen
in position with the plastic awkwardly dangling.
"What are you doing?"
"Paying you back for the meal, of course."
She replied with a
mischievous gleam
in her
emotive gray eyes
that I hadn’t really seen before.
"Or maybe not? Such a rare photo of CEO Kyrie Voss holding someone else’s shopping bag must be quite valuable. Could I not sell this to the tabloids?"
[AN]: For those of you that like to look at character art on the in app profiles... I finally added some for Chad, Luca, and most importantly - Claire!