3. Freesia
THREE
FREESIA
Freesia pressed herself deeper into the leather seat, her fingers gripping the edge until her knuckles turned white.
The scent of sandalwood and spice filled the confined space of Izei's armored SUV, making her tigress pace restlessly beneath her skin like a caged predator desperate for release.
Every breath brought another wave of that intoxicating fragrance, and she had to consciously remind herself to maintain distance from the impossibly broad shoulders visible in the passenger seat ahead of her.
My fated mate is an Alpha panther.
The absurdity of it would have made her laugh if she weren't fighting the overwhelming urge to reach forward and touch him.
Because when he'd stepped into that safehouse and their eyes had locked, she'd felt the mate bond recognition slam through her like lightning.
And when those deep brown eyes flecked with gold had darkened with unmistakable hunger, her tigress had roared with triumph, demanding she claim what belonged to her.
But her rational mind had locked her knees to prevent her from moving closer.
Now, sitting mere feet away from him while trying to appear unaffected, Freesia felt like she was slowly losing her mind.
The mate bond pulled at her with magnetic intensity, whispering promises of completion and belonging that she absolutely could not afford to acknowledge.
Not when someone was actively hunting her.
Not when the Waverly Compact pressed against her hip like a constant reminder of the responsibility that had to come first.
"You're doing that thing again," Luka murmured beside her, his green eyes studying her with the sharp awareness of someone who'd spent three months learning to read her moods.
"What thing?" she whispered, her voice carefully neutral.
"That thing where you look like you're about to bolt," he replied softly, concern shadowing his features. "Want to tell me what happened back there?"
Freesia glanced toward the front seat, where Izei sat with rigid stillness that suggested he was listening to every word.
Reth's dark eyes found hers in the rearview mirror, his expression unreadable but alert.
The last thing she needed was to discuss mate bonds in front of an audience, especially when she had no intention of acting on the recognition.
"Nothing happened," she murmured, which was technically true. Nothing had happened because she'd refused to let it happen. "I simply decided his estate offers better protection than any safehouse."
Luka's eyebrows rose with skepticism. "Of course. I'm sure that decision had nothing to do with the way you two are vibrating with tension right now."
Heat flooded her cheeks. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Freesia." Luka's voice softened. "I've been protecting you for three months. I know when you're lying."
She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it as the SUV turned through an impressive wrought-iron gate that opened automatically at their approach.
Security cameras tracked their movement while motion sensors swept the perimeter with military precision.
Whatever Izei Callel might be, he took protection seriously.
The estate that came into view stole her breath despite her determination to remain unimpressed.
The mansion sprawled across manicured grounds like something from an architectural magazine—all clean lines and floor-to-ceiling windows that somehow managed to look both elegant and impenetrable.
Reinforced glass caught the sunlight, and she counted at least a dozen discrete security measures integrated seamlessly into the landscape design.
"Well," Luka said under his breath as they approached the circular drive, "at least we should be secure in this place, even if it looks more like a prison than a home."
Despite everything, Freesia felt her lips twitch with amusement. "At least it should have hot water."
Luka's answering grin carried three months of shared hardship and cold showers. "At least you're finally being optimistic."
The SUV came to a smooth stop in front of the main entrance, and Freesia's heart rate spiked as Izei opened his door. His scent intensified when he stepped out, and she had to grip the seat again to resist the pull.
Focus. Survival first. Everything else can wait.
She repeated the mantra that had kept her alive for three months while gathering her single duffel bag and adjusting the smaller bag containing the Waverly Compact.
The familiar weight against her hip provided grounding—a reminder that she carried four centuries of peace and couldn't afford to be distracted by inconvenient mate bonds.
Luka collected their remaining bags containing their weapons, medical supplies, and clothes distributed between the two small duffels.
Looking at their meager possessions against the backdrop of Izei's obvious wealth, Freesia felt a pang of something that might have been embarrassment if she'd had energy left for pride.
She finally slid from the SUV, her boots crunching on perfectly maintained gravel, and immediately noticed how Izei positioned himself.
Close enough to respond to threats, far enough away to avoid accidental contact.
The careful distance should have been reassuring.
Instead, it made her tigress snarl with frustration.
Reth drove away without ceremony, leaving them alone with their new protector in the shadow of his fortress-like home.
But Izei quickly turned and moved toward the front entrance with fluid grace, his presence commanding even in retreat, and Freesia found herself cataloging details she had no business noticing.
The way his shoulders filled his jacket.
The confident stride that suggested he'd never met an obstacle he couldn't overcome.
The subtle tension in his jaw that hinted at his own struggle with their situation.
Stop it. He's protection, nothing more.
When Izei reached the entrance, he disengaged a sophisticated security system with swift, practiced movements and stepped aside to allow them entry, his dark eyes finding hers for just a moment—long enough for heat to flare between them like struck matches.
"Your guest rooms are upstairs and down the right hallway," Izei said, his voice carrying that low authority that made her tigress purr with recognition. "I'll prepare food while you get settled. You must be hungry."
The simple consideration in his offer caught her off guard. After three months of rationed supplies and stolen meals, the idea of someone else preparing food felt almost foreign.
Luka shifted the bags to one shoulder and finally offered the first genuine acknowledgment of Izei's protection since they'd left the safehouse. "Thank you."
"Yes," Freesia added, her voice softer than intended. "Thank you."
Their eyes met again, and this time neither looked away immediately.
The mate bond thrummed between them like a live wire, promising everything she couldn't have and everything she desperately wanted.
For a heartbeat, she let herself imagine what it would be like to step closer, to touch him, to let the bond activate itself and claim the partnership her tigress demanded.
Then reality crashed back, and she forced herself to follow Luka toward the staircase that led to safety, distance, and the impossible task of ignoring her fated mate while living under his protection.
The upstairs hallway soon stretched before them like a gallery in some exclusive hotel, all polished hardwood and understated elegance that whispered of old money and older power.
Freesia paused outside the heavy oak door that would serve as her sanctuary, her fingers wrapping around the brass handle while Luka positioned himself across the corridor.
His own guest room door stood slightly ajar, revealing glimpses of rich burgundy fabrics and warm lamplight that promised comfort she'd almost forgotten existed.
The silence stretched taut as a bowstring until Luka finally fixed her with that penetrating stare she'd come to recognize over three months of shared survival.
"Are you finally going to tell me what the hell happened in that safehouse?
" His deep voice carried the easy authority of someone who'd earned the right to demand answers.
"Because you switched plans faster than a cornered cat, and the tension between you and our new protector could be cut with a blade. "
Freesia's grip tightened on the door handle.
After three straight months of brutal honesty being the only thing standing between them and death, she couldn't bring herself to lie to the man who'd pulled her from the wilderness when she'd been bleeding and half-mad with grief.
Their partnership had been forged in desperation, but it had been tempered by truth.
"Izei is my fated mate."
Luka's green eyes widened slightly, but she caught something that looked almost like confirmation rather than surprise flickering across his features.
"Well." He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his too-long hair. "That complicates everything, doesn't it?"
"I know that." Her voice came out sharp, frustration bleeding through her careful composure. "That's exactly why I didn't shake his hand. I can't afford to activate the mate bond right now."
Luka's expression shifted from surprise to something that might've been sympathy. "What are you going to do then? Avoid him forever? Because that doesn't seem particularly realistic when we're living under his protection."
The truth of his observation hit her like a slap. She pressed her back against the door, suddenly exhausted by the weight of impossible choices and the lingering scent of sandalwood that seemed to follow her.
"I don't know." The admission tasted like defeat. "I just need to figure out if this place is even going to work for us before I make any further decisions."