again of the moons and the fact that becoming these guys’ mate would not be a good idea, and I turn my head to look over at Maalik again. He has to have a plan or something, right? How many hours are even left until the sun sets?
I’m a little surprised to find Maalik is only standing a few feet away, and he’s already watching me. When our eyes meet, his face reddens and he nervously rubs the back of his neck. He quickly looks away, and I allow myself to admire him for a few seconds.
He's a bit shorter than the other guys, but he’s much broader in his chest and shoulders. He has striking, fiery red hair that’s just the slightest bit wavy, and a constellation of freckles scattered across his face and the backs of his hands. I’m more than a little curious to see if he has just as many freckles covering the rest of his body. His beard is thicker and fuller than Reule’s, and his eyes are the most gorgeous cerulean blue.
“Isla, ah…” He hesitantly meets my eyes again and gestures awkwardly with his hands. I think he’s trying to ask me a question, but he’s even worse at charades than Reule is. Eventually he points at the door, so I figure he wants to show me whatever he was building over there.
Reule and Caelan bare their teeth at him in annoyance, and Maalik stands up straighter and schools his features. He doesn’t bother to berate them or defend himself, and it kind of makes me respect him more. I feel badly that they’re fighting because of me, and I don’t want to cause any problems if I can help it. Not when they’ve been so nice and welcomed me into their home under the circumstances.
I hop down from the counter so I can take my bowl to the sink and wash my hands. If Maalik wants me to go look at the front door, I don’t see why I shouldn’t. Reule frowns at my feet and grunts under his breath when I jump down, and I smile to myself at his over-protectiveness. Seriously, my ankle doesn’t hurt at all anymore. That weird green stuff he rubbed all over it and the tea I drank must have worked wonders.
After I set the mixing bowl and spoon in the sink, I pull my sleeves up and look around for anything that looks remotely like soap. There’s a little dish with a lid sitting near the faucet that looks like it belongs in an old lady’s house. Before I can check to see if that’s where the soap is, Reule startles me by grabbing my wrist somewhat roughly.
“Reule?” I try to pull my hand away, but he doesn’t let go. His pupils have dilated so much that I can barely see any green in his eyes, and his gaze is locked intently on Madame’s brand on my wrist. I raise my eyebrows and tap my finger against the brand questioningly. “Is this what you’re worried about?”
He blinks at me, his eyes slowly losing a bit of that feral glint. Instead of answering me, he calls Caelan over and holds my wrist up for him to see. I feel myself getting annoyed, but I hold still and let them gawk at the brand for a few moments.
Caelan seems worried, rather than angry like Reule does. Caelan asks me a question, but I just stare at him blankly since I can’t understand a word he’s saying. I’m not sure why they’re freaking out about it so much. I’m a little surprised Reule didn’t notice the brand before when he was so observant about everything else.
Reule loosens his grip and rubs his thumb over the brand, and he stares down at me with a heartbroken expression as he asks me a question too. The butterflies in my stomach go crazy over that, but then Maalik walks over holding the book with all the shifter illustrations Reule showed me. Maalik opens it up to the page with the mating rune marks, and then awkwardly gestures between the drawing and my wrist.
I furrow my eyebrows and shake my head. My brand is just Madame Deverell’s initials, and I don’t think it looks anything like a rune mark. But since their written language looks so different from mine, I can maybe see why they’re concerned or confused over it. While I try to figure out the best way to explain the brand,