“I can do that.” He brushed a soft warm kiss across my forehead. “I can do that.”
Alex
I SENSED THE SEX.
Or love.
A female would scrunch up her nose or possibly be aroused by my use of the word, after all when you were with your mate, it was love and sex, a beautiful heady mixture of sugars, spices, alluring scents that would drive any sane person—just the opposite I supposed.
With a scowl I tossed the tennis ball hard against the wall over and over again, the rhythmic beat was the only thing calming my racing heart, well that and the distinct impression that if I asked Ethan to slow it, he’d probably kill me and say “oops” afterwards.
Mated.
I rolled the word around in my head.
I wasn’t the type.
At all.
To love one person went against every cell in my body, every fiber of my being. I was a Siren. I did not love one. I loved all.
And I loved them well.
All sizes.
All shapes.
Every sex.
Every plant.
Animal.
Creation.
I loved everything.
I spread myself around as all good Sirens did, and I was damned good at it. The very thought that I’d be tied to a measly human for eternity had me tempted to write a suicide note and steal Genesis’s little purple feather, draining my own immortality mid-orgasm.
The sound of my door opening and closing softly interrupted my bitter thoughts, and then the scent of cedar and dirt joined me on the floor.
Mason slumped next to me.
Silent.
And then, grabbed the other tennis ball.
And started slamming it against the wall opposite me.
We stayed there for hours.
Neither of us talking.
Until finally, the Wolf opened his mouth. “I can’t do this.”
I knew how it would work, one of us would go first, we’d call one number, the ceremony would take place, we’d be given time and then the next number would be called.
It never happened all at once.