“Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?” one of the males to her left demanded. Big and gruff with long dark hair and eyes blacker than his, he clearly enjoyed some level of authority, and he clearly wasn’t used to being ignored. “Why are you talking like that?”
Skye’s smile softened, appearing kinder and more natural. “Luka and I understand each other. That’s all.” Her striking blue gaze flittered to his forearms, then back to his face. “Isn’t that right?”
He glanced at the golden light that surrounded his wrists, magical shackles only he could see. Or so he had thought.
Luka nodded.
“I will leave you in your mate’s care for now.”
“Mate?” Several voices chorused.
Skye ignored them. “I would be honored if you would join me for a meal soon.”
While he didn’t necessarily want to spend more time in her company, he couldn’t refuse without causing offense. “The honor is mine.”
She beamed at him, positively delighted by his response. “I look forward to it.”
Then she turned and strode away, her stride lithe and graceful. Like magnets, the males who had accompanied her turned and followed.
“We’re going to talk about this,” Kol said, his eyes darting back and forth between Ruger and Luka.
Ruger dipped his head. “I look forward to it.”
Luka recognized the attempt at mimicry, but his mate lacked the high-brow arrogance to make it convincing. Not that he considered that a bad thing.
With an irritated huff, Kol spun on his heel and started marching away. He made it only a few steps, however, before whipping back around to face them.
“It was nice to meet you, Luka. Welcome to Blackhaven Manor.”
“I do not believe his welcome is sincere,” he said when the human disappeared, leaving him alone with his mate again.
“You’re probably not wrong, but he’ll come around. He’s just protective.”
“I would never hurt you.”
Ruger dragged his gaze away from Kol’s retreating back and turned to face him. “I know, and I think he knows that too. You have to admit the situation is a little…unusual, though.”
“Because I am cursed.”
“Partly,” he admitted. “Mostly, I meant it’s not every day you meet your mate in such a dramatic way.”
Luka frowned. “I am not dramatic.”
“You are,” Ruger argued with a teasing chuckle. “But it’s not your fault.” Turning toward the bridge, he settled his hand on Luka’s lower back and gave him a light push. “Come on. It’ll be warmer inside.”
Heat flared beneath the light pressure, and a pleasant tingle raced across his skin from the contact, sending blood straight to his groin. Reaching down, he did his best to rearrange the coat-blanket that covered his lower half, but he could do nothing about the distinct tent in the fabric.
Adjusting his pace, he maneuvered Ruger in front of him and followed half a step behind.
While he lacked the modesty to care about his nudity, and he had no shame in his attraction to Ruger, he had long ago learned the importance of discretion and subtlety. Just because he didn’t care, didn’t mean others felt the same way.
With his emotions stabilized for the moment, the storm clouds broke apart and scattered, leaving only cerulean skies again. The sun steadily climbed to its highest point, the rays dancing over the surface of the water and gleaming off the bridge.
Ruger looked almost otherworldly in the golden light, his smooth skin and short, honey-colored hair aglow with health and vitality. Yet, despite the chill on the air, a fine sheen of sweat glistened across the back of his neck.
Looking to the sun, then back to his mate with a frown, Luka extended his right wing, stretching it over Ruger’s head and curling the tip to shade him as they walked. The shifter didn’t comment, but Luka detected a grin in his profile, indicating he welcomed—or at least, indulged—the gesture.
On the other side of the bridge, Ruger slowed to match his stride and drifted closer, his arm lightly brushing against Luka’s with every step. He didn’t speak but instead provided a quiet, steadying presence that felt like a soothing balm to his frayed soul.
