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"So what is it that Barett told you?" Ethan asked me as his fingers glided over my wet leg.
We were soaking in the tub; me behind him while he sipped on a beer and I on my wine from a red solo glass. My mate and I were the epitomai of class at the moment, according to Ethan we were 'classy as hell babe.'
My limbs were tired, as was the rest of me. Ethan had properly 'apologized' to each until our limbs were tired and noodley, almost like Jello.
"Well," I sighed as I took another sip of the flavorful red wine. I set the glass down on the little piece of plywood, one-by-three feet, that Ethan had laid across the tub so we could put things on it; like our beer and wine, salt and pepper potato chips, grapes, fried ravioli that I couldn't get enough off, and a little bowl of M&M's–well, only the brown ones since I already ate all the colored ones out of it. "He said that the tree is like a mix of memories. So memories from the blood, or the past, and memories from ash–or what the, I guess, 'souls' of the dead alphas and lunas had seen over the years."
Ethan finished his beer then chucked it across the room perfectly into the trash bin. He turned and eyed me with smug satisfaction painted all over his face. "Alright, I am impressed," I chuckled.
He laughed then popped open another beer. "And you think it's true?"
"Yes," I said as I reached over him for a ravioli. I almost put it in my mouth when he gave me these sad puppy eyes that frankly, I couldn't resist. "Damn you," I grumbled before I held it up to his lips where he smiled deviously before gobbling up the ravioli; he teasingly nibbled at my fingers afterward, which made me squeal as he reached for another to hand to me. He laughed and held it to my lips as he took another sip of his beer. I greedily took it, it was damn good, to say the least.
"Anyways," I said after I swallowed it down. "I think he's right. I've seen things before in the tree that couldn't have been their memories."
"Like what?"
"Like the treehouse," I replied softly. His Adam's apple bobbed at my words. I sighed and kissed his shoulder. "I mean it was just you there, no one else. It had to be them, watching over you–the ashes."
Ethan looked at his beer and slightly nodded before he kissed my knee. "It would make sense. So they think we could control it?"
"We could call and ask again? I doubt Barrett would mind," I said as I reached for my wine. "But yes, he said something like we need a target."
Ethan looked around and leaned over the tub, bumping our plywood tray and sloshing water everywhere. "Sorry sunshine," he said as he sat back against me with my phone in his hands.
He handed it over his shoulder while he took another sip of his beer. Lucky for me, I had saved Barrett's number, I could only hope that they answered. I quickly found his contact information and hit the 'call' then handed the phone back to Ethan, who put it on speakerphone before he set it next to our bowl of brown M&M's.
