Chapter 4
CHAPTER 4
F innar’s fists clenched and unclenched as the small redhead continued to talk. Her constant stream of words crashed against his ears like waves—stories about her weaving, village gossip, observations about the forest path. His jaw clenched as he caught himself slowing his natural stride yet again to match her shorter steps.
“And then Tessa—she’s the baker—told me about this new recipe she’s trying with honey and lavender…”
A growl built in his chest. He should have left her to the siskar. Or worse. His claws itched with remembered bloodlust, yet somehow her soft voice dissipated the red haze of his anger.
“Did you know that some insects actually dance to tell each other where to find flowers?”
His lip curled. “Fascinating.”
The word dripped with sarcasm, but she beamed up at him as if he’d offered genuine praise. The sweet scent that had first drawn him grew stronger and his nostrils flared. Why the fuck was it so enticing?
“You’re not much for conversation, are you?” She tilted her head, studying him with big brown eyes.
“No.”
He focused on the path, ignoring how the sunlight caught the copper highlights in her hair.
What was wrong with him? He should be plotting revenge, not noticing how her freckles scattered across her nose like stars. The alpha was right—he’d grown dangerous, uncontrollable. Yet here he walked, playing escort to this chattering human who seemed to have lost all fear of him. There was no trace of it in her scent—just curiosity and… was that amusement?
His scowl deepened. This situation had spiraled out of his control, and he had no one to blame but himself.
The path led through a more open area of the forest and sunlight broke through the thinning canopy, warming the path ahead. His steps faltered as a shaft of light caught her hair, transforming the copper strands into liquid fire. The breeze picked up, and she pushed her cloak back with an impatient hand. The movement drew his gaze to the curve of her waist, the fabric of her dress clinging to?—
He bit back a growl, his fangs pressing against his lower lip. What was he doing? She was human. The enemy.
Her head snapped up at the sound, those dark eyes searching his face.
“Did you say something?” she asked innocently, closing the distance between them.
He stepped sideways, maintaining the gap. “No.”
But her scent followed, wrapping around him like silk, the sweetness making his mouth water. He forced himself to breathe shallowly, fighting the urge to lean closer, to inhale more of that tantalizing aroma.
“You know, most people actually respond when someone talks to them.” Her voice held more amusement than reproach. “Or at least pretend to listen.”
“I’m not most people.”
He forced himself to eyes on the path, though every nerve in his body tracked her movements.
“No, you certainly aren’t.”
The warmth in her tone dragged his attention back to her face.
She met his gaze without flinching, a slight smile playing at the corners of her pretty little mouth. His fingers twitched with the sudden urge to trace that smile, to discover if her lips were as soft as they looked…
Rage surged through him at the thought. He was supposed to hate humans, not fantasize about kissing them. He lengthened his stride, trying to put more distance between them. But her quiet laugh behind him only intensified the war raging in his chest.
The path narrowed as the woods grew thicker, threading between gnarled tree roots that broke through the soil like ancient bones. He had no trouble avoiding them, but she seemed determined to stumble over every one.
A loose stone rolled beneath her boot and she pitched forward with a startled gasp. His hand shot out, catching her elbow before she could fall. Heat blazed through his palm where it met her skin, and something electric raced up his arm straight to his chest.
He jerked away as if burned. “Watch where you’re walking.”
“Thank you.” She straightened, adjusting her basket. That smile again, bright and genuine despite his harsh tone. “As I was saying, before the ground tried to trip me…”
She launched back into her tale about some village festival, but he couldn’t focus on her words. Her scent had changed, the sweetness underlaid with something warmer, headier. He drew more of it into his lungs before he could stop himself and almost stumbled when he recognized the new note.
Attraction. The scent of it curled around him like a trap, awakening a dark hunger that clawed at his insides. How could she possibly be attracted to him? And why did his body respond with such visceral need?
She tripped over a root and his hand shot out again to steady her. The same spark of electricity raced up his arm, stronger this time, and he fought the urge to pull her closer. To see if she felt it too…
No. Impossible. She couldn’t be attracted to him. He was Vultor—a monster in human eyes. The enemy. She was probably just overheated from the walk, or…
Her shoulder brushed his arm as she gestured, describing some dance, and she didn’t flinch away from the contact.
He clenched his teeth again, his jaw beginning to ache from his efforts to restrain himself. It didn’t matter what her scent suggested. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—allow himself to consider such nonsense. He was here to ensure she left his territory, nothing more.
But her laughter rang through the trees, and something inside him ached to hear it again. Instead he focused on the path.
He heard the roar of rushing water long before they reached the bridge—or rather what was left of the bridge. Just a few posts jutting from the riverbank like broken teeth. The spring floods had torn through here with brutal force, leaving nothing but memories of the structure that once spanned the gap.
“Oh no. The bridge…” She moved closer to the edge, peering down at the churning water below, as worry threaded through the sweetness that had been tormenting him.
His hands twitched with the urge to pull her back from the precipice. He crossed his arms instead, forcing ice into his voice.
“Looks like your journey ends here.”
He watched her survey the damage, noting how the wind whipped strands of fire-bright hair across her face, fighting the impulse to brush them away. Now he could send her back to her village, away from his territory. Away from him. The thought should have brought satisfaction—or at least relief. Instead, something cold and heavy settled in his chest.
What if I don’t send her away?
His beast rumbled approvingly at the thought but he ignored it.
Revenge. That’s why he wanted her to stay. The perfect opportunity to make a human pay for what other humans had done to his family. It had nothing to do with the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, or how her voice had started to ease the silence he’d wrapped around himself like armor.
His chest tightened as she edged closer to the river’s edge, eyeing the scattered rocks breaking through the rushing water speculatively. The current swirled and foamed around them, deceptively shallow but hiding deadly currents beneath.
“Maybe I could?—”
“No.” The word ripped from his throat before she finished the thought. His hand shot out, gripping her arm and pulling her back from the edge. The contact sent another jolt through his body, and he dropped her arm as if her skin burned.
The mere thought of her attempting to cross those treacherous rocks made his stomach twist. She’d slip, the current would drag her under, and she’d-
No. He cut off that line of thinking, furious at the surge of protectiveness that accompanied it.
She rubbed her arm where he’d grabbed her, but her expression held curiosity rather than fear.
“There has to be some way across.”
He knew there was—a fallen tree stretched across a narrower part of the river about a mile upstream. But that way also led deeper into Vultor territory. Into his territory. And once she was there…
“You won’t turn back?”
She shook her head. “I’m not giving up that easily.”
“Then come with me.”
The thought of her refusing, of walking away, made his claws itch beneath his skin, but he forced himself to give her one last chance. His muscles tensed as he waited for her decision. The intensity of his reaction unsettled him—he shouldn’t care what she chose to do.
But she surprised him again and gave him a radiant smile.
“All right. Thank you for helping me, Finnar.”
The genuine warmth in her voice twisted something in his chest. Here she was, thanking him, while dark thoughts of revenge lurked in the corners of his mind. His jaw clenched against a surge of unfamiliar emotion.
He turned away from her, unable to face that bright smile any longer.
“This way.” He pushed through the undergrowth, automatically holding the branches aside for her.
The forest closed around them, shadows deepening as they left the river behind. Guilt—he recognized the emotion now—made his stomach churn with each step. He shouldn’t be leading her deeper into his territory. Shouldn’t be playing this dangerous game where he couldn’t tell if he wanted to protect her or harm her.
But he kept walking, and she kept following, trusting him in a way no human should.