22. Ryker
22
Ryker
H er scent lingered in the night air, lavender, honey, and something uniquely hers.
Perfection.
I stood motionless in the shadows, eyes fixed on Evelyn’s silhouette through her dorm room window three stories up.
My fingers twitched with the urge to touch her.
Chad shifted restlessly beside me, his anxiety matching the roiling in my gut.
“I don’t like this,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the same window.
I grunted in agreement. “We’ll make sure she’s protected.” The words came out harsher than intended, and my jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth.
We had walked her back to her doom. School was starting again tomorrow, but that meant she was without our protection.
Alone.
Every moment away from her felt like torture, my inner dragon pacing, snarling, demanding to be near her.
To touch her.
To claim her.
To mark her.
I inhaled deeply, savoring the lingering traces of her scent from when she’d hugged us goodbye. My fingers curled into fists, remembering the softness of her body against mine, however briefly.
Mine.
The primal urge to storm up there and carry her back to the shifter house clawed at my insides. I wanted to wrap her in my arms, to shield her from the world with my own body. To whisper in her ear how perfect she was, how much I loved every part of her.
But I couldn’t.
Not yet.
I had to wait for the right moment.
So I stood vigil, my eyes never leaving her window.
My mate was so close, yet so far.
For now, at least.
A twig snapped in the distance, and my head whipped around, nostrils flaring, ready to annihilate anything that would hurt her.
Nothing.
But the momentary distraction had my heart racing, panic rising in my throat, and an all-consuming need to protect what was mine.
I shifted my weight, muscles coiled tight with tension. Chad’s anxious energy was contagious, feeding my restlessness.
The soft glow from her room cast her shadow on the curtains. She was moving around, probably getting ready for bed.
My imagination ran wild, picturing her slipping out of her clothes, her soft skin revealed inch by tantalizing inch. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts.
“Fuck,” Chad muttered beside me. “This is torture.”
“Tell me about it,” I replied gruffly.
The light in her room went out, but we didn’t move from our post.
My mate.
My Evelyn.