9. Bargaining with Mate
Bargaining with Mate
H e grinned up at his mate, covering up his confusion. Rising to his feet, he noted her flushed cheeks and blue eyes studiously avoiding looking at his cock. He stepped forward, wanting her eyes, hands, and lips upon him. But first, he needed her help with freeing Abbigail.
Greta is a blessing from Selene or a joke of which I’m the butt end , he thought. Despite tales of being given only one fated mate, the witch stirred the matebond within him. Already, their minds slipped into each other’s, letting her emotions bleed into him. He grinned at the hell she’d raise once she figures out how to manipulate the bond.
“Let’s go inside. Even if we’re inside a magical barrier, I don’t want to take chances.” She nodded mutely, hand outstretched for her basket. He knelt down once more, glancing up with hooded eyes when her arousal drifted to him on a breeze. Making certain their hands brushed when he handed the basket over, he leaned closer, wanting his scent mingling with hers.
“Greta,” he murmured, lips inches from her face. Wide blue eyes bounced around his face, her chest rapidly moving up and down. Her emotions came across murky, but he knew he unsettled her, caught her off-guard. Locking his eyes on her pink lips, he wanted to taste them. Ryker stirred again, reminding him, mate , as if he could forget. He licked his lips and watched her eyes follow the movement.
“Let’s go inside, wolf.” The whisper-soft words caressed his skin like a lover’s touch. He inched closer, letting his breath kiss her skin, daring her to back away. Her eyes shifted into hard glints of sapphire. She whirled around with a quickness that sent dark hair slashing across his face, the sting dulling his arousal.
His eyes followed the sway of her narrow hips in the ankle-length gown, cloaking her lush body from view. The garment appeared dated, a dirty brown unflattering to her figure. He’d felt her sharp edges digging into him while straddling her. A frown graced his face at the source of the thinness of her frame.
“Are you coming?” she asked, an edge in her voice. He strode forward, swallowing his tongue against the comments wanting to spring forth about the dilapidated roof above their heads. The wood floor creaked beneath his weight and his heart clenched at the thought of crashing through the floor.
“It’ll hold,” she said, noticing his hesitance. “Now, tell me about my supposed future.” She folded thin arms across a narrow chest, pushing the garment against small breast. His lips twitched, knowing she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her hip braced against a worktable sporting several vials with suspicious contents floating in them. Pelts brushed his shoulders, hanging from hooks in the ceiling.
If he needed a reminder of what she was, the interior of the cabin left little doubt he was dealing with a witch.
“I need your help,” he stated, wanting to hold his cards close to his chest regarding her being his mate.
A scowl twisted her pert features. “And why would I help one of the moon-touched? Your kind is no friend to mine.” Hatred seared him from her glare across the small space. The door lay just inches from his back.
He fumbled for words. What could he offer her? He took a critical look around the room. A small twin bed rested against the wall to his right. The entire cabin was one big living space. Personal effects were absent and old wrinkled clothing graced his mate’s form. She’d deny it, he knew in his bones, but she needed him as much as he needed her.
“Because I can help you,” he replied, confidence buoying the words. Greta gave him an unimpressed look.
“Help me with what, exactly? I’m doing just fine out here on my own.” Her eyes shifted away from his.
He fought a smirk. “You’re doing just fine, witch,” he said sarcastically. His voice took on a serious note. “But why settle for fine when you can have much better?”
“Better how?” Doubt and mistrust flashed across her face.
He took a cautious step further. When the ground didn’t cave beneath his foot, he kept walking until he stood with inches of space between his naked body and Greta’s. She eyed him warily, jaw clenched. He ignored all of that. He knelt down before his mate, gazing up at her with an earnest expression on his face. Ignoring a blessing from Selene wasn’t an option to him. He needed her and he needed his young back home.
“I offer you the protection of my body and my pack. In exchange, I need your help to save my daughter.” He brought his hands up hesitantly to grasp her small ones between his. Slack jawed, she let him grab her limp hand. He’d unarmed her.
“Please. Whatever price, I’ll pay it,” he promised. He watched the rise and fall of her small chest. Hope was an infernal beast, twisting and snarling in his chest. Her face gave little away, except for surprise. If he had to wait an eternity on his knees, he would. Several moments passed in silence, hard wood pressing into his knees and Greta’s eyes constantly shifting from him to the barren cabin. The bond provided little insight, hinting at the abundance of emotions assaulting her.
Finally, after what felt like hours but were mere minutes, she gave him a slow nod, accepting his offer of protection for magical aid. A grin stretched his face wide, canines pressing against his bottom lip. Now, they just had to make a plan to bring Abbigail home.