Chapter 5
Gunnar
The moment she disappears down the hall, I stride into the kitchen like distance might take the heat out of my chest.
It doesn’t.
The pipes rattle in the walls.
A moment later there’s the rush of water as the shower comes on.
I go to the window and busy myself with the warped frame, prying at a strip of rotted wood around the pane. The mountain air leaks through the gaps, cold against my knuckles. Something useful to do. Anything that doesn’t involve thinking about the woman twenty feet away in my bathroom.
Then I hear it.
The soft, unmistakable sound of a zipper being opened.
My hand stills against the window frame.
She’s getting undressed.
In my bathroom.
My beast lifts its head immediately.
I grit my teeth.
No.
I will not imagine the rest.
I will not picture her stepping out of those tight black pants she wore earlier, the curve of her hips spilling from the fabric.
I will not imagine the pale swell of her breasts as she unhooks her bra.
The cool air touching her skin.
The dark fall of her hair down her back.
The soft triangle of hair between her thighs.
My fingers squeeze the window frame hard enough to splinter the wood.
There’s a creak—the shower door opening.
She’s stepping inside.
The water hits the tile harder now.
My heart hammers in my chest.
Steam will be curling around her, the force of the water slicking her skin, sliding down the length of her body—
My beast surges forward with a roar.
Mate.
Now.
Before another male touches her.
Before another beast even looks at her.
I take two steps toward the hallway.
My claws break through the tips of my fingers. The urge is overwhelming.
Rip the door open.
Get to her.
Claim her.
Make her mine before the world has a chance to take her away.
“No,” I snarl under my breath, forcing the beast back.
My chest heaves as I drag air into my lungs.
This is not what we do.
I’m going to guard her.
Make sure she’s safe.
That’s all.
My gaze drifts toward the hallway again.
Maybe just stand outside the door. Just to listen. Just to be sure she’s—
No.
I scrub a hand down my face.
I might be a lot of things, but I am not the kind of pervert who lurks outside a bathroom door while a woman showers.
Still, the images won’t leave.
Of her naked and vulnerable.
But believing she’s safe enough to close a door and strip off.
My door.
My lair.
The beast shifts under my ribs, restless.
Every instinct in me demands I go to her.
Touch her.
Taste her.
Bury my face in that dark hair.
She’s my mate.
I knew it the second she stepped out of that car.
But that doesn’t change the facts.
She’s human.
She’s hunted.
She doesn’t belong to this world.
And I don’t get to drag her into it because my beast is tearing me up inside.
I clench my jaw.
I will protect her.
I will destroy anything that comes near her.
But I will not touch her.
“Trying not to tear the door down, huh?”
I turn around.
Torin sits perched on the edge of the kitchen table, watching me with an infuriating grin like he’s been enjoying the show for the last five minutes.
I grunt at him.
Orson emerges from the kitchen a second later, wiping his hands on a dish towel.
His gaze slides toward the hallway, where the water’s still running, then back to me.
His expression hardens. “No,” he says.
Torin smiles slowly. “Oh, I think yes.”
I say nothing.
“For a human?” Orson’s nostrils are flaring.
“I didn’t choose it. But, yes, I knew the moment she stepped out of that car.”
That shuts him up for half a second.
Torin tilts his head, considering. “I love this,” he says.
Orson glares at him.
“No, really,” Torin continues. “The one woman in the world meant for you just shows up on our mountain. Saves you the trouble of tracking her down across three continents.”
“With the Russian mafia chasing her,” Orson cuts in.
Torin spreads his hands. “Great timing.”
Orson gives me a slow, sarcastic clap.
“Fantastic timing, bro.”
My beast snarls, ready for a fight, but I shove it down.
Because they’re right.
This is the worst possible moment to find my mate.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m not going to claim her,” I growl.
Orson juts his chin out. “No? What are you gonna do?”
“Protect her, that’s all.”
“You’re gonna walk away from a mate bond?” Torin demands.
The shower shuts off.
All three of us go still.
Then the shower door whines on its hinges.
Torin’s eyes flick to me. He wiggles his eyebrows. “You’re imagining her climbing out of that shower right now, aren’t you—”
Orson turns his head sharply. “Torin,” he warns.
Too late.
Before Torin can finish the sentence, I grab him by the throat and slam him against the wall.
“Don’t—” I growl. “Ever. Talk. About. My. Mate. Like. That.”
He makes a choking sound, the grin vanishing from his face.
Then I release him.
He coughs, rubbing his neck. And the grin comes right back.
“Yeah,” he says hoarsely, shaking his head. “You’re not going to touch her, are you?”
I turn away, forcing my breathing to slow. “Of course not.”
Because she’s human.
Because she doesn’t belong in my world.
And because when the danger passes—
I’ll have to let her go.