Mektar
My mate was a fool.
I clung to the shadows of at the base of the Harrovan foothills as she made camp on the third day. She’d been making good time, following a map she must have stolen. But soon, the path would turn treacherous, take her places that could only reasonably be passed by wing.
She would need me then.
And I would take her back home. And perhaps lock her away for good.
Anyone foolish enough to risk this path couldn’t be trusted with freedom.
I had been fighting the bond for weeks. One day, I hadn’t known, and the next, her scent had tantalized me, sent me scouring through the city trying to find her, fangs aching, chest burning, cock heavy.
And then her.
The forbidden one.
The one so determined to find her sister she would kill herself in the process. She was the reason I’d volunteered to go to Ignarath. She was the reason I’d hoped we’d find more than ash and broken dreams.
I had nothing to give her, could not claim her.
But I would not let her die.
She set her pack down and looked right at me. For a moment, I froze, certain she’d seen my shadow, some movement that gave me away. She tilted her head and stared at the shadow I was standing in.
I’d snuck into cities undetected, right into the heart of a place and slid a knife into a guard’s spleen without ever betraying a whisper.
And yet, she seemed to sense me from a half-mile away.
After a moment, Kira shook her head and continued to set up her camp. She had a clever little device with her that made the air around her shimmer. I suspected it was some sort of human invention to protect her, but couldn’t risk getting close enough to see for myself.
Whether it worked or not was immaterial.
No beast would get close enough to harm her. I would make certain of that.
If any tried, they would taste only claws and my blade.
And when my mate needed help, I would be there to intervene. If she was a fool, so was I.
Because I could not let her do this alone.