After yet another awkward breakfast where we barely exchanged two words, I realized that things couldn't continue like this. Alaric was clearly comfortable working from this room for God knew how long. Moreover, he never made the first move. Sometimes when I was reading or strumming on my oud I'd catch him sneaking glances at me, like he was trying to make sure I was still here, but never more than that.

As I strummed tune after tune, not caring about what song I was playing, the whole situation started to annoy me. It was like a mosquito bite you couldn't help but scratch even though you know, you'd only make the bump worse. Most other people would have gone mad from the loss of hormone medication, but my sexual desire was higher than most people so I learned how to deal with celibacy long ago. Even without that though, the cabin fever was beginning to get to me. Did he expect me to get down on knees and beg to go outside?

At that thought, I gently lay my oud on the bed and crawled out of the bed. I was wearing a simple dark violet dress that revealed a bit more of my chest than I cared for. Not that I even had a choice on what I wore anymore. Besides, if that first night was anything to go by Alaric wouldn't make the first move. No, if being stuck here for who knows how long had taught me anything, it was that the werewolf was the sort to make you ask for something and by the time you regretted your decision, it was already too late.

So making sure my bare feet could stomp as loud as possible across the carpeted floor—which wasn't much, but it was something—I marched straight to his desk and slapped both my hands on the hard wooden surface. As my hands started to throb, I glared down at him. I only had a few millimeters on him from this vantage point, but any sort of advantage was a win in my proverbial book.

Naturally, he did not immediately pay me any attention, instead finishing whatever document he was signing before gently placing his pen down and folding his hands in his lap. When he finally looked at me, it was that look which got to me. A ghost of a smile danced on his lips and his eyes were so damned pleased. It was as if just walking here had meant that I forfeited whatever cold war he had instigated.

So I matched his smile with one of my own. Although with my current mood there was no telling what sort of smile I gave him. Especially when I considered how loud my voice was when I asked, "What's your favorite color?"

His jaw dropped and confusion clouded his features. "What?"

"What. Is. Your. Favorite. Color?"

"I understood the question, but are you telling me that you marched all the way here and interrupted my work just for this?"

Completely ignoring him, I said, "Mine changes between blue and red. My ward was near an ocean that our histories called the Red Sea. It doesn't have a name anymore but sometimes these groups of algae would die and turn parts of the normally blue sea red. On those days, everyone in my family would gather and we would dance and sing and play together in celebration of the natural phenomena."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"If you don't want to tell me, then just forget it."

When I had already began to walk away, he said, "Purple."

"What?" I spun back around, incredulous that he'd actually answered me.

"Its not just because its one of the colors of my family. I always liked the night sky and how on some nights, the starlight glittered across an expanse that appeared to be a dark purple color. Even though there were blacks and blues, I somehow found myself preferring purple to the other colors."

For a solid split three seconds, I was unsure how to respond and instead of following up with another personal question like I should have, I asked, "Is that why every single dress and nightgown you've given me is a shade of purple?"

Stolen story; please report.

"We are all entitled to our preferences. This is mine."

Now it was my turn for my jaw to drop. Didn't he possess any amount of shame? How could he just admit that without any embarrassment. At my lapse of self-control, his smile of victory returned. Damn it all to hell and back. If he wanted shameless, I'd show him shameless. There was no way I was losing a fight that I myself had started. So I marched right back to the desk, this time, pushing myself up so I sat on the corner of it, even if I had to twist my neck at an awkward angle to face him.

"Back so soon?" He paused, as if waiting for me to scream and when I only glared at him, he said, "As much as I'd like to entertain you, I have a lot of work to do so out with it, what's bothering you."

"You didn't know I existed a couple weeks ago. How would you know I'm annoyed?"

"While it is true that we haven't spent much time together." He tapped his nose. "I could smell the festering rage pouring off of you. It began on the night after you woke up so it was only a matter of time until it popped."

"Am I not even allowed to have the privacy of my own feelings?"

"You'll get used to it, just as my mother did and all human mates eventually do. So out with it. What has you so angry? Its not healthy to let such negative feelings fester."

"If that's true, why didn't you say something?"

"Given your current psychological state and your proclivities for deception and self-destruction, it would have been detrimental to your mental health if this information did not become known to you in a more natural way."

I resisted the urge to rub the crease between my eyebrows. "And this is natural?"

"Yes." He paused, inhaling deeply with his nostrils. "And although you are still angry, it is no more than you were before I relayed this information. So I will repeat myself once more: Ranna, just what is bothering you?"

"I want to pick out my own clothes." His silence to this most basic of questions made me lick my lips. "I don't really care about the color, but this style of clothing is tacky. I like dresses too, but not these kinds."

"Its dangerous right now and your mind isn't stable from past events. When we reach District Three, you'll have lessons and duties to keep you busy. You can also pick out things more to your liking then."

Was I being dismissed? Was this supposed to be my life now? He's the one who asked me why I was mad. Why do that, if he was just going to brush aside everything I said? Damn it, forget killing myself. Forget trust. I was going to rip him and all his precious papers apart if I couldn't even decide what the fuck I could wear. This wasn't about pride, this was about keeping a basic sense of self and dignity.

I am not a doll.

At the last thought, I smiled. Right, he obviously didn't care about shame so why on earth should I bother to be respectable?

Alaric frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"No reason." I waited for the two or three breathes it took for him to relax and before I could even think to regret, jumped onto his lap.

It was worth it, if only to see his eyes nearly pop out of his head and his oh so controlled breathing pick up slightly. With our faces inches apart, he said, "What on Earth are you doing?"

I trailed my finger across the side of his cheek. "Isn't this what you want? An obedient little mate to take care of your body?"

"I'm warning you Ranna, don't provoke me."

Despite the threatening tone, I felt something begin to stiffen under me and moved my hips slightly. Alaric immediately gasped, but didn't say anything. His actions gave me enough room to lean in until our breathes were close enough to mix. "Let me choose my own clothes."

He swallowed and instead of pushing back like I expected, he said, "What will you give me in return?"

I turned my head and whispered into his ear. "I'll let you practice with me."

He was silent for a while, his eyes revealing an odd mental warfare, but eventually he said, "There will be rules when we go outside and if you act out, you won't like the consequences."

Had I actually won? Not expecting to get this far, I said, "Does that mean yes?"

He nodded and I jumped off, leading him by the hand into the bathroom before he could change his mind.