My mate.
I’ve spent years imagining her, summoning thoughts of soft skin and a scent like sunshine on grass. On the darkest of nights, when I found myself facing certain death, I would conjure her giggle, and imagine what the taste of her skin would be like as she dragged me into her arms, kissing my cheek nervously.
Even as I knew I could never have her.
My life is forsworn to my brothers, my soul not my own. I swore it on my mother’s deathbed, even as she begged me not to. I cut the oath into my skin and summoned Kasaros, pledging to him that if he aided me in my darkest hour, then I would forsake all others.
But it didn’t stop me fromdreamingof her.
Hope is a capricious bitch, after all.
Instead, my mate smells like the wildest of forests, like blood and ash, and the second I realized who she was to me, she tried to cut a man’s throat. Nervousness? The only hint I’ve caught of it is when I told her she would strip for me and she would like it. Instead, she is pure defiance, caged in the body of a lethal lioness, and the rage I see in her eyes is like tinder to the beast within me.
It wants to consume her.
She is nothing like I imagined. The proud line of her shoulders reveals a woman confident in her self-worth, and every inch of her is lean and lightly muscled. She’s so fucking fierce and beautiful that I can barely contain myself.
The white shirt I stole for her clings to her faint curves, making my fingers curl into my palms in order to restrain the beast inside me. Her breasts are a meagre handful, but my mouth yearns to taste them, and every time she shoots me a clever little rebuke I want to slam her back against the Labyrinth walls, pin her there and fuck that haughty little mouth with mine.
Fuck.
The beast twists within me, raw and ravenous with need.
Mine.
My fingers start to lengthen, becoming claws. I force the shift to halt. Not yet. If I lose control, then this hunt is done. I will become a creature of rage and fury, roaring through the Labyrinth like a world-destroying comet, reigning down fire and ash as I take what belongs to me.
I will break my oath, bringing a God’s vengeance down upon us.
And I will forget what I came here for.
I have one last bride to claim on my brother’s behalf. Kari would be perfect for Flynt. My huntress doesn’t fit into that narrative at all. Indeed, she derails my entire mission.
But I can’t let her go. Someone will try to kill her, and maybe they’ll succeed. The mere thought makes the beast inside me hiss with fury.
But if we stick to the plan and rescue her friend, then perhaps I can give her something she clearly cherishes above all else: Freedom. I can send her home through the portal, send her back to safety. She’ll live out her life in the arms of her family, and perhaps she’ll even think of me once or twice.
She’ll never know how close our paths came to being entwined.
But I will.
And yet, even if the thought burns like acid deep inside me, I can’t help realizing that this is the way it has to be.
Our fates were written in the stars, but she can never be mine.
Never.
Zyla
Hours pass. It feels like an endless night, our path lit by the bloodied moon.
There’s a vast difference between traveling with Bael as opposed to Kari. Despite our bickering start, he’s extremely professional.
He moves so silently for such a big man that it’s difficult to place him at times, and the uncertainty keeps me on edge. Sometimes he’s merely a voice in the fog, the whisper of movement in the distance behind me. Sometimes he’s almost on my heels, his winter-kissed scent settling over me like a cloak.
He could be a ghost, if not for the warmth I feel whenever his body presses closely to mine.
Fatigue starts to set in. I can’t remember the last time I slept, and the constant adrenaline spike every time a distant scream catches my ears is exhausting.
