Chapter 17

Rosemary:

Thunder rattled the house. Briefly, the room flashed with lightning, and a figure stood in the door. Having difficulty sleeping herself, Rosemary sat up.

"Mom?"

"Sure, honey. Come on in." She patted the space on the bed next to her. She knew what he was going to ask. Michael had never liked thunderstorms. Particularly loud ones often drove him to her bed. This storm, though, was exceptional. The wind howled like a banshee around the cottage, shaking the building. She hoped the storm wasn't a typical spring storm.

"I can't sleep," her son said, climbing in next to her.

"Neither can I." Mene had been gone for a week now with no word. Not even a note to say he was still alive.

Their fight hadn't been that bad, she thought. Yes, in the heat of the moment, they had said things that would be difficult to take back, but she never expected him to leave. Not really. Not after he swore he would always return to her. Yet with each passing day that she received no communication from him, the more she feared he was gone forever.

Fears nibbled at her heels. The Mahdfel don't mate for life. He had said as much. They were devoted to a mate, yes, but divorce happened.

Was that what was happening? She hadn’t done anything wrong. She spoke to another guy, yes, and Mene completely lost his mind to jealousy. He had warned that he would become jealous. To be warned was one thing but to see it in person was another. Had he, in his anger, taken a needlessly risky mission?

The idea turned her stomach.

Nals’ words at the Council meeting came back to her. Mene wanted to choose his mate. It was the only choice he had some control over. He had rejected two other women because they were not his choice.

Was that what he was doing now? Searching for his true mate? Making his choice with another woman?

Stress burned in her heart. She needed to take an antacid but would suffer the discomfort for now. Stress always gave her heartburn.

What if he wasn't off chasing another woman but on a dangerous mission? What if that was what he had been trying to tell her before the argument spun out of control? He could be dead or injured, thinking she hated him.

She didn't.

She loved him. She loved his grumpy, moody behind. She liked falling asleep next to him and waking up in his embrace. She liked how her pulse raced when she heard his steps on the front porch. She liked how just being near him filled her body with desire, matched only by the passion in his eyes. She even liked just hanging out on the sofa and watching films with him.

She loved how Michael accepted him. Adored him, really.

She frowned. If he never came back, he'd break Michael's heart, then she'd have to hunt him down and make him pay for hurting her baby.

She snaked her arm around Michael and pulled him to her side. He didn't fight, which concerned her. Normally he'd pull away and make claims about not being a baby. If he wanted comfort, something was up. "What's wrong?"

"I had a bad dream," he said. "He's going to be back for the Anwynhil?"

A clap of thunder made them both jump. Nervously, she laughed. "That sounded close, huh? That means the storm is going to pass us by soon."

"He promised."

"I know, honey, but he's on a mission. We knew he was a soldier. I guess this is what it's like." Waiting. Not knowing. Regretting the last words you said and wanting desperately to take those words back.

“Did he leave because of me?”

The quiet fear in her baby’s voice broke her heart. “No, honey. He didn’t leave because of you. Never you.”

“He hasn’t called? That doesn’t seem like him.”

“No, he hasn’t.”

Michael pulled away from her embrace. “You’re lying.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say.”

“You get all squinting when you lie.” He demonstrated, scrunching up his face.

“Okay, fine. I have a bad poker face. He came home the night you were at Reven’s.”

Lightning flashed and thunder clapped. Michael jumped in place. “And you didn’t get me?”

Rosemary tucked the blanket around them. “It was only for a few hours, and he wanted to see you. He did. You were the first thing he asked for when he came in. He wanted to go over to Reven’s house, but he didn’t have enough time.”

“So he really did go away on a mission?”

“Yes, honey.”

"But he promised to be there." The hope and yearning in his voice broke her heart. "He said he'd be right there waiting for me at the finish line."

"I'll be there with a big, proud grin on my face." She planted a kiss on the top of his sweet-smelling head. "What shampoo is that? You smell good enough to eat." She wiggled her fingers on his stomach and side.

"Mo-o-om," he wailed, squirming. "Stop it! I'm too old to tickle."

He giggled, nonetheless.

Mene:

For the third time that day, Mene reached for his communicator to send his mate a message. As he dared not speak to her yet, text seemed the better option. He typed her name and his fingers hovered over the screen, unsure how to proceed. Apologize? He may have spoken in anger, but she kept much from him. His mate did not trust him, and that pained him.

No, he corrected himself. He failed to instill trust in his mate. She did not know she could rely on him to help ease the burden of her worries. That was his failing, and that upset him the most, more than Rosemary's secrets.

He should explain himself, but everything inside of him was too complicated to condense down to a text message. For the first time, he had someone who needed him. Not his muscle or his skills. Him.

His mate warned him that it would be complicated. He did not believe her. Again, he failed.

Every day that he delayed contacting his mate, the harder it would be to return and apologize. At this point, he needed to complete his mission and lay the spoils at his mate's feet. Maybe then she would forgive his stubborn ass. His grumpy purple tuchus, as she said.

That night, he left with only a vague plan. He returned to his quarters at the base and grabbed the necessary supplies. He understood the situation and the problem that needed to be resolved. The mission required much travel but would otherwise be easily completed, if he had the patience to let his target wander into his trap.

Finding Vince was surprisingly easy, considering he had only a first name and a face to go on. He had stalked his prey with less. Mene traced the communications Vince sent to an account, giving him specific details of the male and a location.

Mene studied the male's routine. Nothing about the male impressed him. He drank, credits flowed through his fingers like water, and yet he did little to earn those credits. He terrorized the many females in his life. Mene could see clearly that Rosemary was but one of many targets that Vince shook down for credits.

He did not know what his Rosemary had seen in this male. His physique was not particularly impressive. Perhaps in his youth, before alcohol and a lack of exercise caught up with him, he had been attractive. Mene was pleased to see that Michael took after his mother and shared little resemblance with the male who helped to create him.

As the male kept a regular routine, Mene had little difficulty arranging events to get the male alone. Mene was not on Earth on Council business or even business for his clan. His mission was personal. He disabled the male's vehicle while it was parked in a dark and lonely location. Honestly, it was as if Vince wanted to be cornered by Mene. Invited him.

The hour grew late. The shops and bars closed.

Now Mene waited for the male to drunkenly stumble to his vehicle. He had made many mistakes with his mate, but he could rectify one.