Chapter 3
Tara
The thing about being a shifter is the heightened senses that come along with it. Humans wouldn’t be able to hear the conversation going on outside, but I can. I can’t make out all of the words, but the general atmosphere? It’s pretty clear they want me dead.
Why couldn’t I have been stronger? All I can do is curse myself for being so damn stupid as I sit here on top of the blankets—I don’t want to get too comfortable, and besides, my feet are dirty after standing in the woods.
Why I should care about being polite in this situation, I don’t have the first clue. I’m sort of winging it.
This is torture. Sitting here, staring at the wood beams spanning the ceiling, studying the simple furnishings as if I can distract myself out of the predicament I’m in.
I would say this place is charming, quaint, rustic.
Definitely the opposite of how I grew up.
But I like it. If I could choose my final surroundings, I would choose a place like this.
It’s a pretty morbid thing to think, but I have to be realistic. They’re going to kill me—that’s what the law demands, after all. My mate doesn’t want me. He’s not going to fight for me.
If I were him, I wouldn’t fight for me, either.
That doesn’t mean I have to like it. Hot, bitter tears fill my eyes, making the nightstand blur.
I deserve this. Even fate thinks so. So much time I spent carelessly going through life, inflicting pain, proud of myself for it.
Look where it got me. Lying here in the bedroom of a fated mate who not only doesn’t want me, but is preparing to kill me. Sounds about right.
I really should stop feeling sorry for myself, but the alternative is obsessing over what’s about to happen next.
How will he do it? Alone, in private so I can have a little bit of dignity?
Or will he do it in front of them, the way they so obviously wish he would?
Maybe he’ll let them participate—they were all practically salivating for my blood out there.
I’ve never really understood why the punishment for crossing the border has to be death.
I mean, what century is this? Haven’t we advanced even a little since the days of the ancestors?
None of that is up to me. Just like it’s not up to me who fate chooses to be my mate. Like it wasn’t up to me whether my parents lived. For so long, so much of my life has been out of my hands.
Mate. Mate. My wolf has only one thing on her mind, and I kind of hate her for it right now.
Here I am, worrying about what happens next, and all she can think about is completing the bond.
I know he must be going through the same thing, whatever his name is, but he doesn’t seem as bothered by it as I am.
Maybe because he’s older—I don’t know how much, but he is nowhere near my age.
Yet another fun little trick fate decided to pull. I wonder what else is waiting for me.
No, on second thought, I don’t want to know. I’ve already been through enough.
My wolf senses his approach before I can identify his heavy footfalls on the hardwood floor.
Right away, a flood of warmth rushes out of me.
It makes me want to die of embarrassment.
I’m sure he’ll be able to tell I’m aroused, but what am I supposed to do?
I can’t help it. All of this is out of my hands.
Before he enters the room, I scramble around, deciding dirty feet don’t matter as much as covering myself for both our sakes.
By the time he opens the door, I’m sitting up with my back to the headboard and the blankets pulled up under my arms.
He’s wearing a bathrobe that does nothing to disguise his insane body.
How am I supposed to exist in the same room when he looks like that?
It’s open enough to give me a good look at the soft, black hair across his chest. I’ve touched that hair.
I know its texture. Even now, my fingers twitch, longing to touch him again.
His broad shoulders are hunched up close to his ears.
Everything about him screams anger, or at least resentment.
Lucky me. He wishes I didn’t exist. Right now, that makes two of us.
It isn’t until he sets a plate on the bed that I pull my attention away from his body and take a look at the sandwich he brought, along with a glass of water, which he sets on the nightstand.
I don’t know whether it was my lack of an appetite during dinner or the intensity of everything that’s going on tonight, but my appetite is raging now.
Still, how am I supposed to think about food when I can’t stop worrying about where this is going?
“What are you going to do with me?” I whisper. There’s no way I can take a bite of food without asking.
His nostrils flare when he exhales. His face—I could stare at it for days and never get tired of it. Perfectly sculpted, proud, and regal. But it’s the eyes that burn with an almost scary intensity that make my heart skip a few beats when they meet mine. “I’m not sure yet.”
“This doesn’t have to be hard.” I’m babbling, buying time, and it’s obvious he knows that when he rolls his eyes. “I’m serious. Just let me go. I will never come back, I swear. It won’t be easy, but I will stay away for good. Wouldn’t that solve everything?”
“That would solve nothing, little wolf.” He arches a thick eyebrow. “What’s your name?”
“Tara.”
His chest expands when he takes a deep breath, like he’s absorbing the name. “Tara. I’m Kyran. And your idea is not going to work.”
“Why not?”
“It’s the law.”
Damn the law. Something tells me I wouldn’t be doing myself any favors if I said that out loud, so I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my reaction silent. “You’re the alpha of your clan. You can’t change the law?”
“Your pack’s alpha is a member of your family, isn’t he?” My mouth falls open, and he explains, “I saw him the night you were attacked. There was no question who I was looking at—with his size, his strength? I knew you were family.”
My head bobs. So he was there. He helped us. And I’m not supposed to want to hump him until we both pass out? From what I was told, it was the bear who killed Nora’s dad and brother. We owe our lives to him.
“So you should know better,” he concludes with a shrug. “It is not that simple. An alpha can’t decide at random which laws he sees fit to follow. I have to think about my clan, the way your alpha would think about his pack. It’s as simple as that.”
Simple. As if anything about this is simple.
“Besides,” he adds with a frown. “If I were to let you go, what would happen if someone spotted you on your way back? I’ll tell you what would happen. They would kill you on sight.”
A million different questions still bubble inside me, tinged with sadness and fear. Out of all of it, the biggest question of all bubbles to the surface. “Why did you bother bringing me here if there’s no way out of this? Why not let them kill me and be done with me?”
That, he doesn’t have a quick answer to. I feel his indecision almost like it’s churning inside me. Is this what it means to have a fated mate? Feeling what they’re feeling?
“I don’t know yet.” He shoots up off the bed, unfolding his large body all at once and going to the door without another word.
He doesn’t quite slam it closed, but he’s not quiet about it, either.
The flip of the lock is the punctuation mark at the end of a sentence he couldn’t bring himself to deliver.
And now I can release a slow, shuddering breath.
Even though he’s not in the room, I want him as much as ever, my body aching and tingling with desire.
This isn’t the same as having a crush on some hot guy—it’s about as far away from a childish crush as anything could be.
It is so deep, enough to make my skin feel hot and tight.
I’m uneasy, fidgety, like I was at home.
And the inferno in my core hasn’t cooled down the slightest bit. My heart is about to burst out of my chest, and my blood races hard enough that I hear it rushing in my ears. I’m on fire, nerves dancing, like a coiled spring ready to pop.
I’m almost not even thinking as I slide down on the bed until my head touches the pillow that smells so much like my mate.
So do the blankets and sheets, and I close my eyes, using that scent to pretend he’s with me while one hand slides down the length of my flat stomach until I’m cupping my swollen, slick mound.
Even that slight bit of contact makes my hips jump. I have to bite my lip to silence a helpless moan while my other hand cups my boob, flicking my tight nipple, adding to the electric sensations racing through me. This is him. This is him touching me, exploring me. Memorizing every inch.
Slowly, I stroke my bald lips, remembering the way it felt to be in his arms. What it meant to be pressed against his hard, unyielding body. How would it feel to be pinned to the bed by him? My back arches when I delve deeper into my dripping folds before finding my swollen, aching clit.
Pleasure radiates through me, starting at that bundle of nerves, which I circle with my fingertip while my hips grind, and I imagine it’s Kyran touching me.
Licking me. The scruff on his cheeks would scrape my skin, wouldn’t it?
My teeth sink into my lip, but I don’t think that will be enough to hold back what’s building.
He would know exactly what to do, wouldn’t he?
How to push every button until I explode.
In my mind, I see him between my thighs. His dark eyes, looking up at me while he forces unspeakable pleasure on me with his tongue. My finger moves faster, and my hips jerk now in a frenzy. So good. It’s all so good.
My toes curl and the tension builds until I’m gasping for air, working myself faster, the way he would.
I can almost hear his hungry grunts in my head when the dam finally breaks, and I shatter, collapsing onto the mattress while wave after wave of bliss washes over me.
My body is loose, limp, and I release a deep breath before opening my eyes again.
And all at once, the relief is gone, replaced by something hollow in my gut.
I don’t know how it’s possible to go from the height of ecstasy to the depths of despair so fast, but that’s exactly what happens.
Tears fill my eyes and roll down the sides of my face because it wasn’t real.
He’s not here. I can’t cuddle up to him now. I’m on my own, and I always will be.
Until I’m killed, anyway. Because he is definitely not going to accept me. There will be no mating bond. He cares about his clan. If anything, it makes me want him more, even if it means the end of me.
But then I don’t deserve anybody like that, do I? Somebody with integrity and strength. Somebody who cares about others. Not when I’ve so completely crushed someone who didn’t deserve it. I don’t deserve Kyran. I don’t deserve anyone.
I wish I never left home tonight. The thought of being back there now, safe and secure, makes me roll to my side and curl into a ball.
What I wouldn’t give to be in my bed, in my room, where my biggest problem was getting Nora to trust me.
Now, I’ll never get the chance to make it up to her.
I’ll never have a chance to do anything again.
The cold, hard truth makes my tears fall faster than ever.
All the while, I’m haunted by the scent of the mate who doesn’t want me.