Nine
RYDER
Care for her.
The instincts—now understood though unwanted—have me to doing nothing but staring at the woman curled up in my armchair, half passed out. If I act on anything my senses tell me to, it won’t end well for either of us.
Nîkâkîstis. Mate.How did I fucking miss it? Hell, even Xander said it.Marissa’s explanation is impossible to deny, especially since returning, when my body all but confirmed the bond itself. My bloodstream races being in her vicinity, my wolf howls to meet her himself, and my cock desires fulfilling the bond.
And yet, she sits there, blind to my shredding insides. No—not shredding.Destroyed.Utterly, fucking wrecked by my proximity to her. She has no idea what she’s doing to me by simply being alive and for that, I hate her.
As fast as the thought passes through my mind, it’s wiped away with a low whimper.
Carina’s eyes continue growing heavy as exhaustion claims her. Her head falls against the chair’s side, and her cloak slips down a couple inches when her grip goes lax.
I watch. I can do nothingbutstare at her sleeping form.
Her existence was unknown before this morning, and now I can’t imagine her anywhere else. Why and how we’ve come together doesn’t matter, only that we have.
I shake my head, because it does matter. Her presence matters a lot because it’s so much bigger than her and me and whatever bond fate decided to shackle us with.
Strands of hair slip over her face and a deep-rooted feeling drives me to remove anything that’ll disrupt her sleep. But I don’t. Ican’t. Touching her can’t happen.
Marissa said, regardless of nature compelling me, choice is key. That I’ll get to keep mine. It’s what I need to remind myself as the witch invades my home and life.
Warmed by my fire.
Feet away from my nest.
All while the wolf is demanding to make herours.
Fuck. Me.
She’s comfortable enough to have passed out and that too pleases me. A person doesn’t sleep where they don’t feel safe. She makes a noise and rolls her head, tucking her legs in closer to get comfortable, though it appears to be the last thing she actually is.
I eye my bed, which is like a giant beacon urging me to do what feels right when it isn’t. Allowing her to sleep in a space that isn’t hers—that isn’tmeantfor her—won’t help my case.
But itismade for her.Like I made it with her in mind, rather than a nameless female shifter I was planning to eventually meet.
“No,” I growl aloud to myself, my desires blocked by pure will. I willnotput her there. If I do, it reveals a side she’ll never be allowed to see. When she goes, her scent will linger for me to roll around in. It’ll stick to my fur and haunt me every day.
After another readjustment that has her legs slipping down and cutting into her comfort, I move. Before fully realizing what I’m doing, I slide one hand beneath her knees and the other around her back to lift her. She’s light and feels small, despite being fairly averaged height when standing. Against me, her body is so much frailer.
She needs to be protected.
She moans lightly, rolling her face into my chest. Lightning bolts charge my heart, then my cock. If Carina was awake and realized what she was doing, she’d hate herself more than I’m coming to despise myself.
Crossing the cabin, I rest one knee on the nest and carefully lower her into the numerous furs from my past hunts that’ll keep her warm. She’s wrapped up in everything I madefor her.
I brush strands of her hair away, fascinated as the dark colour meshes with so many of the pelts. The fire behind us glows, so I readjust some to create a blockade for her face. Her cloak, which I adjust to cover her, will help warm her too. Then more furs get layered on top, ensuring at no point in the night will she be cold.
She sighs, burrowing her face in deeper, but I avert my gaze before staring too long. Before other signals flash in my mind that make me forget what exactly she is to me—my captive.
Since sleeping in animal form is preferred, I strip my pants and quickly shift before grasping the rope between my teeth and resting the end on the ground beside her. I settle myself on it, my weight ensuring she won’t be escaping.
The floor is chilly, and while hours ago I might have debated taking the bed with her for more restful sleep, recent revelations make that impossible. Sleeping beside her won’t happen if there’s any chance of pretending the connection doesn’t exist.
When I settle and allow my eyes to drift closed, there’s one word ringing throughout my mind. A name that’ll change my future whether I like it or not.
