Mated to the Warrior Beast

Harth had spent almost an hour pacing his house. She couldn’t sit still. She knew the guards were outside, and that felt... like eyes on her back, even though they weren’t. Even though she knew that the order had been given to leave her alone. And she knew she wouldn’t step outside to tempt them to harm her.

Her head knew these things. Her body wasn’t quite ready to believe them.

There were males outside who saw her as a threat, and she didn’t know what forces were at work to move them.

But she did know her mate.

She put a hand to her chest, pressing on that spot right in the middle that felt so tender, almost hot. And yet... it throbbed not with pain, but with awareness of him.

Not the same awareness he had of her-that was curious, and she pondered that, as well. But she could feel the essence of him. Sense his resolve and his uprightness.

She could feel how good her mate was, and it was so beautiful, it almost brought tears to her eyes.

He’d left angry, she knew. She’d been able to feel that much-which must mean he was feeling it strongly. She’d scented it on him some, but the deeper conviction came through this incredible bond.

.....

Her mate was in a rage, yet he held himself in check. He’d touched her with such tenderness, not a whisper of his fury directed at her.

It was a mark of his self-discipline, and his care for her, and it only made her fall more head over heels for him.

There’d been a moment in the bed upstairs when she’d almost grabbed him and begged him not to leave. Almost begged him to escape with her so they could just live together, alone and never have to think about anyone else.

She would be happy that way, she knew.

Others always caused pain. In her life, in the lives of everyone she cared about-others always caused pain.

Her mate would not. Her mate helped her feel safe. Cherished.

Her mate helped her feel joy.

She wanted more.

She wanted time to admire him properly-in body, and in his spirit. There were so many pieces of him she didn’t yet know. And so she explored his home, ignoring things like furniture, instead peering into corners, opening books to see what he’d pressed between pages. Even going upstairs and pawing through his closet, though there was little of excitement there.

She picked up the book that had been laid on his bedside table with a small ribbon bookmark curling out of it, wondering what had held his attention at night when he was alone.

Alone.

That word echoed like a cold wind in her chest. She could see him here, now. Laying in bed naked, sprawled, one arm curled under his head, that ladder of muscle that climbed his ribs rippling every time he moved.

She could see his face, frowning into the pages of that little book. See him stalking the room in quick, efficient steps to dress himself-or perhaps kneeling to lay a fire in the hearth.

Her mind filled in the pieces as she prowled through the house, and her heart ached to have him back.

She felt a great throb in the center of her chest and it made her breath stop-but then she realized... it was him aching for her. He’d thought of her-or yearned for her. And she’d been able to feel it.

With a tiny smile, she closed her eyes and thought of him in the bed just an hour before, let her body flush with the warmth of his touch, and her heart sigh for missing him.

And there it was again, that clench in her chest.

She gave a little laugh and placed her hand there, right over it.

‘I love you, my mate,’ she sent, then laughed delightedly when he answered back.

‘When I get back, I’m going to show you how much I love you, beautiful.’

She was about to answer-to ask him what was happening, when a quiet knock sounded on the door, and Harth startled, whirling towards the door.

When had she come back downstairs? Had she ever left?

She swallowed hard. “What is it?” Her voice was too high, shrill.

But it was another high voice, a female, softly spoken, who answered.

“My name is Suhle, and I only come to greet you. Tarkyn called for me. May I come in? I won’t open the door if you don’t wish me to.”

Harth stood there, heart pounding, and almost gave in to the urge to say no. But then the memory of Tarkyn, looking at her, brows furrowed. ‘Do you trust me?’

She did.

This was a friend, he’d said. Someone who she would be safe with.

Stomach trilling with uncertainty, Harth blew out a breath then walked to the door and made herself turn the handle and open it.

Outside, a woman stood, older than Tarkyn though still beautiful-her face had begun to show lines, her skin a touch weathered. But her smile was kind and her eyes... They were wolf eyes.

“Hi,” Harth said uncertainly, then stepped back pulling the door open. “I’m Harth.”

“Hello, Harth. My name is Suhle.”

“Soo-lee?”

“Yes.”

Harth waited for her to sweep delicately inside, then she closed the door and clasped her hands at her waist. “Um... thank you for coming. I don’t know what Tarkyn thought-”

“Don’t worry. I do. I suspect we have a great deal in common, Harth. I thought I might tell you my story and... well, we can just see?”

Harth stared at her. Her eyes were bright, striking blue-they reminded her of Zev’s eyes a little bit. Her hair was almost white-blond. She was stunningly beautiful, and she moved like a woman who knew her mind. Yet there was something incredibly soft about her.

Harth’s throat pinched when she smiled, because it was the smile she’d always imagined a mother would have for her daughter.

“I... thank you?” Harth said quietly.

Suhle stepped forward slowly, opening her arms to give Harth an opportunity to reject the hug she was offering. But Harth found herself just falling into the embrace, still fighting tears.

And this lovely, gentle woman sighed. “I’m sorry you’re frightened, Harth. I know this place, our people, can be frightening,” she whispered into Harth’s hair. “But I’m here to tell you that the Creator always has a plan. And I always want to help anyone find His purpose. So... let’s sit down and I’ll tell you my story. Then, only if you want to, you can tell me yours, okay?”