Page 50 of Collared Mate

Taking an afternoon nap is certainly going to put the discovery of her brother and the treachery of the Swale cabal back as well. But she’s worth it. She is the point of all of this, and if I learned anything in her wild escape attempt today, it is that she needs my attention. I have to be here, with her. Leaving her to be corralled by the pack is going to turn into a clusterfuck.

CHAPTER 7

Fiona

When I wake up, I feel a lot better.

Sex is such a stress reliever, and if I was going to be honest (which I’m not), I have learned that a hard spanking changes my whole biochemistry. It’s really relaxing, makes me feel soft, takes the rage and gives me something else to focus on, and I just feel cleansed and happy and relaxed and…

“I’ve got some clothing for you,” Henry says, entering the room with an armful of things.

“My clothes?”

He lays them on the bed and I go through them. These are my clothes. I recognize my favorite pieces.

“How did you find these?”

“Sent word from the ‘Russians’ that you needed some attire from home in order to be more comfortable.” He grins in an incredibly sexy way, and I have a wash of arousal at how fucking sneaky he is. I love that he is playing my idiot brother at his own game. I’m even more excited to wear something that lets me feel like myself again.

I grab a shower and get dressed, sliding into a pair of designer jeans that hug my curves and make me feel sexy without being overdressed. They’re also going to be harder to take down if I annoy Henry again, though I bet he’d be up for the challenge. Then I decide to wear a sweater. Nothing too fancy. I don’t want to overdress for the safehouse.

“Whoa. Cool sweater!” Tinker says as I walk into breakfast.

That makes me think I went a little too hard on the fashion, but I don’t really own anything that isn’t amazing. It is a cool sweater. It has leather patches on the elbows and a zipper that runs diagonally across the midsection in pure defiance of any form of usefulness. It’s made of pure wool and it feels like being snuggled by a lamb.

“Thanks,” I smile.

“I want you to meet my father tonight,” Henry says, emerging from behind the refrigerator, or rather, around the corner from it.

“Christ!” I startle.

“Is that at him, or at me?” Henry smiles and opens the fridge. I don’t know what he could be looking for because Tinker already has everything even faintly breakfast coded sprawled across the dining room table. I don’t know where Hades is, but I have a feeling he is not very far away.

“I already met your dad,” I say.

Tinker is silently eating, her eyes traveling back and forth between us as if we are playing tennis.

“I mean properly. For dinner. Tonight.”

“We’ll get out of the way. Me and Hades can watch a movie and Jacob can sit outside,” Tinker jumps in.

I appreciate the way Tinker is acting like yesterday didn’t happen, like I didn’t end up stark naked in the grass outside being forcefully re-collared by men I didn’t even know. She has to be aware of every shameful detail, but she’s acting like this is just another breakfast. It’s really nice of her.

“Can we talk about this later?” I ask him that question because I don’t want to scream no, god no at the top of my lungs.

“We can. But the invitation has been extended and accepted,” Henry says.

“I can’t look your dad in the face again, knowing that he knows what I…”

“Look like naked,” Tinker supplies helpfully.

I don’t even bother acknowledging what she said, I just let it hang in the air while being entirely correct. Yesterday, when I was furious, nothing really felt embarrassing. Today, thinking back on what I did yesterday makes me want to melt into the earth and live as a worm.

“We’re all going to have to get over that sooner rather than later,” he says. “That’s what tonight is about. You can meet him under more human circumstances.”

“Fine,” I sigh. He’s right. I won’t be able to avoid this forever. I’m going to have to meet his family. His father, and I guess his mother at some point. I don’t know where she is, or if she’s still around. I should really know that about him. There is so much about Henry that remains entirely unknown to me.

We are strangers.