Chapter Two
Dylan held his mate as she shivered and trembled in his arms. Why oh why wouldn’t she accept what she was? What they were. How on earth could he show her what she meant to him?
Usually so strong, so confident and yes, he admitted, so alpha, this standoff bemused him. He who ran the Dowt with ease, controlled excited kittens as they discovered their abilities and capabilities, and kept the rest of the Dowt on the right tracks to stay safe, sane, and satisfied with their lot, was at a loss.
He’d understood since he was a kitten that when the time came his designated one would appear, and he’d know it was her.
He had. Even as a tiny child Catlin the termagant, as he from his eight years superiority called her, had been his to champion, and take care of. The minute he hit puberty it dawned on him his protective instincts were more than just that.
The minute she hit adulthood he was certain. Catlin was the one for him. He loved her and more. Cherish was too mushy a term maybe? But it encompassed everything he experienced when he brought her to mind. She was the only person who could make his life complete, the designated mate thing or not. Catlin was, he decided, to put it simply, his soul mate.
If only the council hadn’t become involved—without telling him, when he was recovering from human appendicitis of all things—and informed her of what she was and what was expected of her. After he’d so carefully not done anything to pressure her.
Dylan had listened to his parents, erred on the side of caution and watched Catlin leave the Trossachs and head to university. Even bitten his tongue when she’d headed abroad and taught overseas for a few years.
He’d known she’d come back and by all rights then, everything should have been plain sailing. Which it might have been, except…
Yeah, except. He groaned. She’d been back three years now and still refusing to agree to what had to be done.
“Am I that awful, Cat?” he asked gently as her trembling stopped and for the first time in goodness knows how long she relaxed against him. “Does the thought of being with me seem so horrific you won’t even contemplate it? Why? I love you, you know that.” Or hell, he hoped she did. Hadn’t he told her on many occasions? Shown her as best he could? Dylan was uneasily aware that those times were few and far between. He didn’t show his feelings easily. As head of the Dowt he’d learned not to give much away.
Catlin sighed and moved far enough back so she could look up at his face. Dylan didn’t unclasp his hands behind her but gave her the space she needed. In truth he couldn’t let go. This tiny moment of togetherness gave him some hope.
“Do I"?” she asked in an undertone. “Really? How am I supposed to know?”
“Well, because you do. We’re meant for each other, what more is there to say. I need you. I have to take care of you. Tell me what I’m missing here.” He might be an alpha male, but the workings of a female mind were a mystery to him, and he suspected to most other men.
“Honestly?”
“Of course. Nothing but.” His skin prickled as unease slithered into him. She was so bloody serious. Not like his laughing, blue eyes flashing Cat.
This Catlin bit her lip. Normally erotic, now it made him wary. Especially as her skin was dotted with perspiration. From worry, not arousal.
“Tell me, love.”
Her eyes flashed.
“Please,” he added hastily. “I can’t put right what I don’t know about.”
“Fair enough. So.” She took a deep breath and let it out on a long hiss. She sounded more like a snake than a cat. Or a human.
“No one has ever asked me what I want,” she said so softly he had to strain to hear her. “No one has ever said, hey Catlin, what do you think? No one has ever properly explained to me what this designated partner thing is all about. All I’ve ever heard is the portentous ‘this is meant’ comment. Pompous or what? About as much use as a chocolate fireguard on a raw, dreich night. I have no idea if we just jump in the sack and have hot wet randy sex, take a vow to each other alone or in public, jump over the brush, do a handfast or get married in a conventional way,” she said in one long convoluted sentence. “All I’ve ever heard is that I’m yours and tough sh...sugar if I don’t like it. Well, let’s be clear. I don’t like it and tough sugar if you and the council don’t like that. I’ll leave.”
Never.
Her eyes glittered with deep blue shards of ice and tiny sparkles of fire. “I might not be able to read your mind Dylan MacSween, but I know that bloody look. You cannot force me. In fact I know enough of you and your integrity to know you won’t.”
It was true. Dylan sighed. “Go on, tell me what do I need to do to get you to even consider being mine. Which by the way would involve everyone of those things you said.” He paused and grinned. “Especially the hot, wet, randy, sex.”
Catlin spluttered. “I didn’t, we…I…oh help.” She shut her eyes and then looked skywards. “What did I do wrong in a previous life to deserve this?”
Dylan inclined his head and hid his mirth. The last thing he wanted was for her to have a snit at his amusement. After all it wasn’t actually funny. Or rather the subject wasn’t. It was his life, her life, and the continuing wellbeing of the Dowt. “Probably all of those as well,” he agreed, once he was certain he could speak without sniggering. “But which is needed to get you to say you will?”
“Hmm.” She ducked under his arms and walked to the door. Dylan let her go, and he wondered what her reply would be. As she put her hand on the door handle she turned and looked at him somberly.
“You need to woo me.”
Before he had the opportunity to ask how, she whisked through the doorway and with a flurry of skirts disappeared.
Fuck and hell. What exactly did woo mean?
****
He was trying, she had to give him that. Catlin arrived home after a long and not particularly satisfying run through the forest to see Dylan sitting on the bench by her back door. As ever, the sight of his long legs clad in his customary when not working denim, and unusually, his torso covered by a white dress shirt with a tie loose around his neck made her nipples tingle and her clit demand attention. Dammit.
The run had been intended to set her emotions on a level keel and admit to herself what she wanted—to discover if and how they could work as a couple—and get rid of her fidgets and anger over stupid things. Like the fact she hadn’t set eyes on him for over two weeks and she wanted to jump his bones.
Really and truly wanted to make love with him. After all, if they didn’t mesh in that scenario, would there be any point in going further?
But God, it had been a hard two weeks. Why on earth did she decide that once he’d gone away? She couldn’t even use the old adage absence makes the heart grow fonder. She’d always been fond. Maybe absence makes the clit go twitchier was a better expression. Bernie the bullet had been busier than usual.
The first of those weeks, she knew he’d been busy in London. As a renowned architect he was in demand, and that week was one of his reluctant got no option but to go south weeks. Each day, as she arrived home, a smirking postie had handed her a postcard.
With one word on it.
As her post was normally delivered a couple of hours earlier in the day, and slipped through the letter box, the grinning feline shifter had obviously waited to hand it to her personally. With a smirk the size of the local ben—mountain.
Dear…
Catlin…
I…
Just…
Want…
You…
To…
Know…
Then dammit she had to away with the school on an Outward Bound course.
What did he want her to know? And why oh why do it in such a public way? Not to force her hand in anything, that much she was sure of. That would not be Dylan’s way. He was too honest to do anything underhand like that.
Catlin spent the week shimmying up and down cliffs, swimming and canyoning and envying the shifter pupils who found everything so much easier than she did. When she had any time to think, it was all about Dylan. Why? What? And dammit she needed to get home and see if there was anything else. Things the postie and his cronies might know and she didn’t.
There was and there wasn’t.
Just a note from the postie saying ‘aww c’mon Cat. Put us ooot o’ oor misery’.
What about? How the hell did she know? She’d changed into her running gear and headed out.
Now he was here so she might find out something else maybe?
Dylan looked up as she approached and stood, his expression wary. ”I met Donnie the postie as I came into the village, he gave me grief over leaving them all wondering. Hell, Cat, I’m sorry. I never even thought of those nosy buggers reading them.” He ran his hand through his hair. No bobble or plait today she noticed, just long and loose like she preferred it. “I was trying to do the wooing bit, honestly.”
He looked so worried, her heart melted a bit.
“You, know? It’s so damned hard,” he continued. “Me, who is usually so in control, and I’m floundering here. I always thought you felt the same way as me. That we meant a lot to each other and that as we got older we’d be you know, the ones. Now you seem to be pulling further and further away and I don’t know why.”
Oh God it was much worse than she thought. “I…” she stuttered and faltered, unsure how to explain her muddled thoughts? “Look, come in while I shower and stop feeling all sweaty and stinky. I can’t have a serious conversation when I itch and smell.”
His face brightened and he sniffed in an exaggerated fashion. “You are a bit whiffy, but hey it’s y…ouch”
Catlin poked him in the stomach. “Good honest sweat.”
“Okay, yeah, exactly what I was about to say. Well almost. Lead the way.” He followed her indoors. “Do you want me to wash your back?”
“Why not?” She tossed the words over her shoulder as she took the stairs two at a time. “There’s always a bit I can’t reach.”
She chuckled to herself as his astonishment hit her in waves. That would have shaken him up a bit. On her run she’d achieved a lot of soul searching and had vowed one thing. Not to let what others thought put her off discovering what might develop. After all, he was their leader and it was understandable they’d want to know what was happening. However, she had no intention of telling them.
And she so did want to jump his bones.
For the first time ever she really sensed him as he drew closer. Once she moved forward off the top step she turned and almost knocked him back down the flight. That wouldn’t have been a good start.
Dylan grabbed her arms and steadied both of them. “If you’ve changed your mind, there are less drastic ways of stopping me. A simple, ‘not interested anymore’ would work. I’ve never been into force.”
“I know that you nit, I was gonna say do you think you’d better take a shower as well? After all you were sat outside for a while and you must be cold.”
He raised one eyebrow and grinned.
Duh idiot, he won’t feel the cold.
“But I’ve only got the one shower,” Catlin said and waited. He didn’t let her down.
“Well,” he drawled. “I’ve always heard it’s a good thing to conserve water. I’m a sucker for doing what I’m told.” It was just as well he took her hand or she would have fallen downstairs and taken him with her. Catlin spluttered as he winked.
“So we best do as we should eh?” He looked around him.