21. Gorran
GORRAN
T he morning sun filtered through the cave mouth in slanted ribbons, golden and warm. A breeze stirred the ashes of last night’s fire, carrying the faint scent of pine and earth and her—always her.
Mira lay tangled in the furs behind me, bare limbs draped in soft sleep, the marks of our claiming still faint along her throat and thighs.
Her scent clung to my skin, to my mouth.
I could still taste her, feel her fingers raking through my hair, hear the broken sound of my name on her tongue when I made her come apart beneath me.
Satisfaction. Bliss. Pride.
She was mine.
No more running away, no more walls, no more hesitation. Last night, she gave herself to me fully—not because she had to, but because she wanted to.
She was my mate now. No question.
I would kill for her. Die for her.
But more than that, I would live for her.
I would make her safe. Make her smile. Give her everything she never dared ask for. And if the world tried to take her from me…
No. It wouldn’t.
I wouldn’t let it.
I stood at the mouth of the cave, basking in the peace of it all.
Then I scented it.
Steel. Smoke. Male sweat. Horses.
Humans.
The wind shifted, and with it, the scent grew sharper. Boots on underbrush. A low voice muttering orders. Armor creaking.
I didn’t wait.
I moved, silent and fast, slipping through the trees like a shadow. Hvalgar blood ran deep, and though I bore no clan-mark now, the instincts remained. I was silent death when I needed to be.
Crouched behind a thicket, I saw them.
Soldiers.
A dozen or more. Well-armed and mounted, chainmail glinting in the sun. The blue and black crest on their breastplates marked them without question—they were Baron Keldar’s men. Knights of the keep. The very same bastards who worked Mira to the bone and tossed her scraps as payment.
Their eyes swept the trees as they spoke in low tones. They were tracking something.
Tracking her.
I slipped back through the woods, faster now, teeth clenched.
When I burst into the cave, Mira was already sitting up, the blanket pulled to her chest.
She looked at my face and went still. “What is it?”
“Humans,” I growled. “A patrol. Close. They’re after you.”
She was on her feet before I finished the sentence, pulling on her tunic, scrambling for her boots. “Then we have to go. If we leave now?—”
“They’re on horseback. They’ll outpace us, and if they catch you, they’ll take you back in chains,” I snapped. “Like an animal.”
She froze. Her breath hitched. And I hated how her shoulders curled in, the way her hands trembled even as she tried to hide it.
“I won’t let them touch you,” I said.
Her chin lifted, eyes blazing. “I know. You’ll kill them. I can see it in your eyes. But…” A shadow flickered across her beautiful features. “They’re my kind. My people.”
“They’re not your people anymore.” I stepped closer, voice quiet but firm. “They’ll punish you for running. For being with me. For surviving.”
She didn’t argue.
She didn’t run.
She simply gave me a short, sharp nod of understanding, and it was enough.
We heard them before we saw them: hoofbeats, the thump of boots on dirt, gruff voices.
I stepped outside the cave, shielding her with my body, arms loose at my sides.
Twelve men broke through the trees, eyes scanning the rocks and brush until they landed on me.
“Mira Ross!” one of them shouted, a younger one. “By the baron’s order, you’re to return at once.”
She stepped from behind me.
“I’m here,” she said. Her voice didn’t shake. “I’m not hiding. And I’m not going back.”
“Thank the gods,” another man muttered, having dismounted. He walked forward, seeming not to comprehend what my Mira was saying. He moved closer, ignoring me—at his peril. “Has he harmed you? Don’t fear. We’ll take him down. Get her.”
And then, sword drawn, he reached for her.
Almost got within arm’s length of her.
And I saw red.
No one touched what was mine.
The growl tore from my throat before I moved. But once I moved, it was over in a heartbeat.
The soldier was on the ground, choking on blood, before the others even reached for their swords.
Mira gasped behind me, but I couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t.
Because now they knew.
And so did I.
There would be no mercy.
They wanted a monster?
They would get one.