Chapter 11
The Predator's Claim
Val's POV
I watched Jamie's retreating figure with a predatory stillness that was almost unconscious. My eyes, still flushed with the residual heat of the rut I'd just suppressed, burned with curiosity and something dangerously close to obsession. Staring at his body—the slender waist, the tall, straight legs, the delicate yet surprisingly resilient physique—I couldn't definitively say if I was more attracted to the body or the strange, captivating soul now residing within it.
I'd been bonded with the original Jamie for almost four years, and yet, I was never truly interested. We bonded because his pheromones and mine were a near-perfect 99% compatible match—a statistical anomaly that should have led to an immediate, searing love. Instead, I'd been met with cold rejection, constant complaints, and open disdain.
Now, this new soul, this Jamie Ronan from "Earth," made me want to know everything. He was a mystery I desperately needed to solve, a fragile, delicious meal I couldn't resist.
The sight of him, his skin a beautiful balance of melanin, not too dark, not too pale, contrasted with those full, pinkish lips that naturally gave him a kind of different, almost seductive look—I'd never noticed that on the previous Jamie. Maybe I had already hated the previous Jamie's character so deeply that I never truly looked at his appearance. Regardless, I was losing my mind to the new one.
As if running from a confrontation he couldn't win, he quickly slipped into his makeshift clothing the moment he stepped out of the bath, and then he was gone. His hasty retreat only served to pique my interest further, pushing me to unravel the mystery of the new Jamie's previous life.
I knew he wasn't the Jamie I married. That realization hit me the moment I pulled him back from the edge of the strangulation. His act, his behavior, his character, his very scent—everything was fundamentally strange. I observed him constantly, wanting to know his real goal.
Beast folk don't waste time when they see an opportunity, and I was no different. I had deliberately left the children at home and walked out of the house, wanting to test his intentions towards the cubs. My heart had pounded with a familiar fear when I returned and saw the kids, whom the previous Jamie despised, looking paler than usual. But then I heard their words, full of hope and a strange, newfound respect for their "mother," and I was flooded with relief.
And when I watched him in his own world, it only made me more interested in what he was after. When I ate the food he cooked—that strange, flavorful mix of noodles and vegetables—I had lots of conflicting, gruesome thoughts in my mind about its origin, but the flavor was undeniable, a subtle warmth I hadn't felt since birth.
Even now, after the initial shock, I still didn't know his ultimate goal, but one thing was crystal clear: I needed him to be within my reach. He shouldn't be allowed to escape.
Besides, we are still legally bonded. I will go with the flow of bonded mates. I had tried to resist the pull around the previous Jamie, finding him repulsive, but he had only hated me more for that resistance. Now, there was no more holding back. I'm going to fill his senses, his pheromones, his body, his mind, and everything in between with my scent, my body, my pheromones, and my very self. I wasn't going to lose this second chance to claim my mate.
I walked out of the bathing room, the steam clinging to my skin, and saw Jamie near the fireplace. He was gently lowering the children, who had fallen asleep carelessly huddled together, arranging them carefully so as not to wake them.
I wondered if it would be nice, if it would be comforting, to simply hold onto this caring Jamie. The previous Jamie didn't matter to me anymore; he could stay dead. He had ruined both my life and the children's chance at love and acceptance enough already.
Once he was done with his maternal task, he finally walked up to me.
"It's getting late, and the house is getting darker. What do you use to see at night?" he asked, his voice low and functional.
I stared at those pinkish, full lips on him, the lips that gave him that subtly enticing, different look on his complexion. I had never noticed that in the previous Jamie. No wonder he asked strange and often stupid questions since he came out of that beast prison. Is he truly comfortable in this beast world? And what was his previous world like?.
Walking outside, I arrived back with four glowing stones—rocks infused with faint luminescence that provided a soft, perpetual light.
I placed two of the stones near the children's makeshift sleeping area and the remaining two in our room. I've stayed out of this room for years due to the old Jamie's volatile and cruel character, so it was a new, strange experience being with a mate in the same space.
Looking at the new Jamie's awkward, fearful expression—the slight widening of his eyes as he looked at the single, small bed—I felt a perverse sense of satisfaction. I arranged the rough furs and cloth, patting the center. "Let's sleep."
Jamie's POV
"Didn't you tell me that Lucien and the previous Jamie never slept together?" I accused the System, my voice a strained whisper as I followed Lucien into the room.
"Yes, Host," the System replied, its tone maddeningly neutral. "But he might just want to keep an eye on you, to monitor your movements and intentions. Or perhaps, the new you has simply awakened his male desires."
Was that really necessary? I frowned, staring at the little, cramped bed that I was expected to lay on next to this beast male. I looked at the man himself, who was giving me that lazy, predatory look from the center of the bed. I quickly looked down at the ground. It was leveled, but I couldn't possibly lay on the mud floor, and I didn't think there were any extra bedding or furs.
Looking outside, the night was rapidly growing dark. I couldn't possibly sleep outside unless I was never waking up, because I'd surely end up in the belly of some savage animal.
Taking a deep sigh, I had to stay positive. We are two guys in a room. What can possibly go wrong,?
Laying down on the side closest to me, I shifted all the way to the very edge, convinced that one slight poke from my back would send me tumbling to kiss the mud.
Lucien climbed in after me, and my heart rate quickened to a frantic pace.
I remembered his earlier warning about facing my back to him, but I couldn't possibly look at him. And laying face-up, facing the ceiling, would make our bodies brush against each other. I wasn't risking provoking this beast male with accidental contact; they don't reason like humans.
I just wanted to lay awake, stiff and silent, through the entire night. But the night felt unbearably long. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the darkness to break.
Gosh, why is the night so long? What happened to a short night? Was this torturous situation I'm in just a joke to the entire universe? I thought, every nerve ending screaming in protest against the forced intimacy of the small, shared bed.