Just when I think he can’t get any stranger…
“I shall try again.” Squaring his shoulders as if he was facing off against assassins, John opened the fridge. “This time it will go better, I assure you.”
“This time, I’m helping,” Neridia said firmly. “What have you got?”
John rummaged in the fridge, as if hopeful that something new might have miraculously appeared in it within the past ten minutes. “I have…chicken eggs, miscellaneous plant parts, butter, and some surprisingly solid cow milk. Do these things together make a meal?”
“It makes omelets.” Neridia disposed of the carton of milk, which was practically about to walk away on its own. “Without the milk.”
It felt good to take charge, to at last have something that she could do. The familiar motions of chopping vegetables and whisking eggs soothed her frayed nerves. John followed every movement with the fascinated concentration of someone trying to work out a magic trick.
When they finally sat down to the end result, his delighted surprise at the first forkful sparkled down the mate bond. It heightened her own appreciation of the flavors, as if she too was tast
ing it for the first time.
“How do you do this?” he said, staring at the simple omelets as though she’d transmuted lead into gold.
Trying to explain the concept of seasoning turned into a broader discussion of herbs, which somehow led into him quizzing her in detail about the best meals she’d ever eaten, and what had made them special. For the first time since her house had burned down, Neridia found that she was actually enjoying herself.
“You have a great passion for this art,” he said as they finished the meal. “And you are a true master of it.”
The warm glow of his respect filled her even more than the food. “Hardly. I’m just an amateur. But I’ve always liked to cook.”
One more thing I’ll have to give up, if I learn to shift.
The thought ruined the pleasure of the moment, tensing her shoulders again. John’s eyebrows drew together a little as he picked up on her change of mood. For a second, she thought he started to reach out a hand to her—but then he abruptly stood, gathering up the plates.
“You should try to sleep, my lady.” He kept his back to her as he started to wash the dishes. “You will need your strength for the coming day. Do not fear. I shall guard the territory while you rest.”
Her sense of him had gone remote again, as if he’d withdrawn into some deep cave in his mind. His spine was very straight, every muscle standing out in his back.
Neridia gathered up her courage. Going over to him, she tentatively slid her hands around his waist. He went very still.
“I, um.” Neridia was sure she was blushing. “I know you take your duties as my bodyguard seriously, but I was kind of hoping you might take some of your other duties equally seriously tonight…Royal Consort.”
She felt him draw in a deep, shaking breath. This close to him, their skin separated only by the thin fabric of his shirt, he couldn’t hide his emotions from her. She could sense the sharp leap of his desire…and the agonizing effort it was taking him to restrain it.
“John?” Confused, she stepped back. “Why are you holding back from me? Did, did I do something wrong?”
“No!” The word leaped from his lips in a vehement chord, like a trumpet blast. “Never think that, my mate. It is not you. It is me.”
He’d been withdrawn ever since he’d talked to the leader of his Order, Neridia realized. “Is it to do with what you Knight-Commander said? About not letting me into Atlantis if I can’t shift?”
His hands tightened on the edge of the sink, knuckles white. “Not that. I have no doubt that you will take your place on the Pearl Throne. But…but that is not all that he said.”
Neridia had a sick feeling that something was wrong, terribly wrong. “Tell me, John. Whatever it is, I can feel that it’s eating you up inside. I’m your mate. Please, just tell me.”
He turned to face her at last. “He corrected my erroneous interpretation of our code of honor.”
It took Neridia a second to work out what he meant. “You mean he’s angry about you breaking your vow of chastity? But you did that to help me! Didn’t you tell him that you only did it in order to try to teach me to shift?”
“There can be no excuses for oath-breaking. I understand that now, thanks to the guidance of my Knight-Commander.” Though the mate bond cried out with pain and grief, his face was absolutely expressionless. “My honor has been strained near to breaking point. If I am not to shatter it completely, I must strictly adhere to my vows.”
Neridia stared at him, too shocked to speak.
He bowed his head, his indigo hair shadowing his face. “I am sorry.” His voice was the barest whisper. “More sorry than I have words to say. You are my mate, and yet I have done you a worse injury than any shark. This is all my fault.”
“No it isn’t!” Neridia grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. “You acted with honor, John. You didn’t have any doubt of that before, not until this Knight-Commander of yours got into your head and twisted up your thoughts.”