The next two weeks pass without note. Kane is cordial whenever we are together. Each morning, I wake up to breakfast prepared. The meal passes with only a few words exchanged, but even that is better than the silence that follows.

He is gone for most of the day, so I’ve begun to read the collection of books stored in the utility closet. They are mostly classics but a lot of them I’ve never read before. Half of them are in languages I don’t speak but I’ve found a whole collection of Sherlock Holmes, which has been enjoyable.

Kane returns, without fail, every evening and prepares us a meal. I’ve offered the help but he tells me to sit and wait. We then eat, repeating the same stilted conversation as breakfast, before he bids me a good night and disappears again. It feels like I’m alone in the house for the rest of the night but I’m positive he’s close by.

The last real conversation we had was Kane essentially giving me permission to hate him, not that I need his permission to do so. But, as the days go by, I find myself growing more curious about him and his past. I know that the biggest reason for that is the loneliness that’s settled over me.

When I’m not in complete silence, all I have are meaningless pleasantries. It’s not that I want to be his friend. It’s not that I even want his company in particular. I just know that I will start to lose my mind if this keeps up. Even now, as I sit on a couch in the living room, waiting for him to tell me dinner’s ready, I want to say something, anything, that will break this awkward holding pattern we are in.

As we sit down to eat, Kane doesn’t bother to look at me or ask anything. It’s not like he was particularly talkative before but, he was a lot more approachable than the rest of the Shifters - though now I think I may have been mistaken.

Desperate for a bit of conversation, I bring up something that’s been on my mind for a while. “Umm, you said you’re not much of an expert but I was wondering about werewolves. What about their lifespans? If they look normal, do they live normal human lives too?”

He puts his fork down and studies me for a long moment. After having made up his mind about something, he shrugs and answers, “Perhaps a bit longer but not by much. Again, I’m no expert but they certainly do not live as long as Shifters do.”

He grabs his plate and stands, clearly putting an end to the conversation. But, I’m not ready to be alone again with just my thoughts. I fumble for something to say and end up blurting out, “So if a human had a thing for the supernatural, then a werewolf would be a better option than a Shifter.” I mean it as a joke but when he looks over his shoulder and our eyes meet, I realize just how stupid I must sound.

His answer only furthers my embarrassment as he candidly replies, “I suppose that would depend on what that human was looking for. Both valid options but meant for very different purposes.”

As he holds my gaze, I feel my face heat. There's nothing I can say to backpedal out of this so I immediately look down and stare down at the table. I’m sure I just made it sound like I was hoping for something from him.

I flex my fingers as images filter through my head unbidden - the way his muscles tightened and stretched as he pulled his shirt over his head and the feel of his shoulders under my palms as he carried me out of the lake. I shake my hands out, trying the rid myself of the sensation as I recall the smooth skin over taught muscle.

“Please stop that,” he murmurs, breaking me out of my dizzying thoughts.

I straighten, not sure what he means, as he looks away and heads into the kitchen. While in the kitchen, he answers my unasked question in a voice just loud enough for me to hear. “Whatever you’re thinking is having a noticeable effect on your scent and it is hard to ignore.”

His honesty leaves me mortified; this isn’t the first time I’ve put us in such a situation but, at least this time we are both fully dressed and in separate rooms. Perhaps this is why he avoids me - because I’m an idiot who has clearly lost my grasp on reality. When did I begin to even care about him, his life, or what he thinks?

I remind myself that it’s got nothing to do with him in particular and it’s just loneliness, I take a deep breath and try to calm my singing nerves. I tell myself that it’s not my fault he has an effect on me, it’s just part of the nature of his species.

He’s already long since left the dining room but I murmur an apology and leave, opting to go outside instead of back up to my room. As I take a seat of the terrace, I feel his eyes on my back, burning twin holes into me. But, I don’t turn around and instead make a pointed effort to look out at the lake.

Finally, the pickling feeling goes away and I steal a look over my shoulder. He isn’t there anymore. Letting out a sigh of relief, I turn back towards to lake and let out an ear-piercing scream when my view is blocked by a direct view of a man’s crotch.

“Jesus!” I grip the front of my sweatshirt and force myself to breathe slowly.

How he got outside without me noticing is beyond me but he’s also standing way too close. And worse still, he is literally just standing there.

We stare at each other for long enough that I end up blinking and looking away. I’m not going to do something stupid staring contest with a fucking wolf - I’ve long since learned that lesson. But, even that doesn’t get a reaction out of him and I can’t begin to fathom why he’s out here in the first place.

I can’t exactly get up because to do so would make me bump into him and I don’t particularly even want to talk right now. I’m not sure how long we stay like that, but with every passing second, I feel my annoyance grow. Finally, I can't stand the silence or the ridiculousness of this situation anymore and I shout “For fuck’s sake! I can't tell which one is the real you.”

I’m surprised that he even bothers to reply, “All of it, I'm afraid.”

Something in my chest feels like it’s wound tight enough to snap. I hate this stupid dance. I hate this back and forth. I’d rather he just be all one thing or the other. I sigh and scrub a hand over my face. “You’re impossible. You go out of your way in some regards but are a complete jackass the rest of the time. And you didn’t need to tell me that story, either. The more I learn, the harder it is. I don't want to pity you. I…”

“And I don't want your pity,” he cuts me off.

“Why would you tell me that?” All this anger has risen to the surface and has nowhere to go but at him. I rise and use both hands to push him away. I know it should have no impact, but he actually takes a step back. Something about that concession makes me braver than I should be given what he is.

I jab a finger into his chest and snap, “Why would you give me any help at all? You tell me I'm supposed to think of you as a monster, then you take the time to humanize yourself, and then you just completely shut down.” I jab him again for extra measure and huff when he doesn’t respond.

He looks down at my finger, pressed into his sternum, and then back up at me. I hate that his expression has gone soft again. “I'm sorry Ama. My intention was only to make things clear. You will be safe here with me. Do not need to worry that something like before will happen again.”

I can only guess by ‘before’ he means what happened in the lake soon after our arrival. I huff, letting my hand drop to my side. “It’s very clear to me that you can't make that kind of promise.”

He rolls his shoulders back and stands to his full height, making me realize that he had been hunched over this whole time. When he replies, his voice is back to its cool, even tone. "In this, Alpha and I are of one mind."

I feel that pull again, the pull I've felt on and off before around Shifters. Every Shifter I've had the misfortune of being close to has had the same magnetic presence. They draw me in whether I want it or not.

“Fine,” I relent, bone-weary and eager to get away. Company be damned - he is the last person I should be spending time around. I feel even more like a fool for looking up at his stormy expression and wondering what it might be like to have met him under completely different circumstances.

I stare straight ahead at his chest, hoping he will leave first.

“I’m going back to the packhouse tomorrow.”

“You go somewhere every day.” I don't mean to be dismissive but I can’t imagine why he’s telling me now.

“There have been…issues on pack lands the past few days. You can’t be left alone here. While I am gone someone else will stay in the house.”

I bristle and wonder if I should say that I don’t need a babysitter. But what could be such a threat to a bunch of Shifters? Probably something that I am hardly equipt to handle.

“Who?”

When he doesn’t immediately answer I peer back up at him and can’t put my finger on what I find there. Anger? Worry? Disappointment?

“I’m not sure,” he replies slowly, dragging out the sounds as if he doesn’t know what to say.

I don’t believe him but I’m not going to push further. I nod and decide that if he’s not going to leave then I will. I turn away, going back into the house.

If one thing is clear, it’s that this evening has cured my need for company. Whoever it is that comes by tomorrow, I doubt I’ll see them since I have no plans to leave my room.