Chapter 9

Isabella closed her eyes and imagined he was in her room, lying next to me. When she saw the outline of his face before her eyes, her heart beat faster. How could the mere thought of him cause such feelings in Isabella?
"Isabella, are you listening to me?" she could hear the concern in his voice. It was so clear that she felt as if he were speaking directly to her.
"Where do you live?" she asked him before she could change her mind. It was surprising that her voice sounded as firm as she thought it did. Somehow she was afraid to ask him.
She heard him sigh. "I'm afraid I can't tell you."
Her heart ached, and she'd to clear her throat before she found her voice again. "Why?"

"I can show you, though." His languid voice reached her thoughts a moment later. "Meet me in the clearing tomorrow, and I'll take you to my cabin." He laughed at his own joke.
"Do you live alone?" Isabella couldn't help but ask. She didn't know what she was more afraid of, never seeing him again or the addictive attraction he'd for Isabella since she'd caught his scent.
"No." he replied uncertainly. "Is that a problem?"
"N ... no - I mean yes." She felt so confused. "I mean no," she finally said as her thoughts became clearer.
She heard him laugh. It wasn't just his thoughts, he was actually laughing out loud.
Her heart ached painfully. Worried, she asked, "What's wrong?"
She could just picture him shaking his head as he said, "It's nothing."
"Please." She'd rather take the whole world on her shoulders than not know what was troubling him.
"It's my job to worry."
"Not anymore, Peter."
She sensed his hesitation and could do nothing about the uncertainty that overcame her.
"I can't help but think of the danger I'm putting you in by not rejecting you." His voice was sad and distant. He was shutting Isabella out. She could no longer feel his emotions.
The pain Isabella had experienced with rejected partners was too great. She wasn't strong enough to bear it. In fact, she didn't even want to try. "But have you thought about the pain you'd cause me?"
"Sadly, I've." She sensed both his honesty and his sadness through our developing connection. "I won't." When she didn't respond, he continued, "I'm not as heartless as they say I'm."
"Last night when we met...." she backtracked. I was so new to this. I didn't want to push him. I'd so many questions for him.
"Uh-huh," his voice was encouraging.
She took a deep breath, her curiosity burning me. "You weren't going to eat me."
"I wasn't hungry."
"But you'd have if you were hungry."
"No." He was silent for a time. "Your blood doesn't cry out to me."
Isabella gasped.
"No, no, don't-I mean, you smell good, just not the way prey would smell. You smell different to me."
"Oh."
"You know, in our species, preferences are limited to one individual. I prefer mushrooms and mountain goats. Richard..." he paused. "He was a friend of mine. He liked the brittle bones of older people, and then there was her mother, who really liked the smell of the terror of muscular men. There was just something about smelling fear that drove her crazy."
"You don't find werewolves attractive?"
He laughed humorlessly. "Honestly." He paused. "...They're not the greatest thing in the world. They smell like Cannayne pepper. It makes me sneeze."
Isabella sniffed at herself.
He laughed. "Like I said, you smell different to me."
She didn't believe him. "Different. Right."
"No, really. MY Cousin says to her, girls smell like sweaty armpits and boys smell like spoiled milk. But others of our kind, like her godfather, love the sweet smell of infants. You see, it's pretty subjective."
"I feel sick."
"I knew you'd." Said he from the bottom of his heart. "I used to feel that way too, but when you grow up intheir world, you get used to it."
That would explain why they went so long without hunting.
"Beast," she said in a whispered thought.
"Hmm," he muttered. If she didn't know better, I'd have thought he was about to fall asleep.
"Did you eat human flesh?"
"No?" His voice wasn't the usually strong, confident tone she knew.
"Does it taste good?"
"I don't know." He was silent for a minute. "But I can tell you what wolf's blood tastes like," he muttered as an afterthought.
"No, no. I'd rather not know," she said with a smile. He sighed, and she felt his body relax, forcing hers to do the same.
"You need to sleep." He said in a sad voice. She was glad she wasn't the only one who felt it was too early to say a quick goodbye. "It's dawn already."
It was quiet, thoughts clear, and they showered only in each other's presence.
For a minute she said, "Beast."
He didn't answer and she assumed he was already asleep. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on sleep and not the presence that was there and a part of me.
"Hmm," he whispered. It was so soft she almost missed it.
Isabella smiled. "Good night."
He sighed, and at that sound her body slipped even more into unconsciousness.
She could almost see the stars dancing around the clouds, and she knew there were none tonight when she heard him say, "Princess." His voice broke through the trance that sleep had placed on her.
"Hmm," she said almost immediately.
He chuckled. "Good night."
Isabella smiled, inviting sleep to take possession of her, the sooner the better. she couldn't wait to see him again, even in her dreams. she supposed a dream was better than nothing. At this stage, she could settle for a nightmare as long as she could see him.