“Tarek—”
He paused at the archway, half-turning.
“Thank you.” The words felt inadequate again, but she didn’t have any others. “For everything. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
Something shifted in his expression. The firelight caught his eyes and made them glow, as green as spring leaves, and forjust a moment she saw something vulnerable beneath the careful control.
“Sleep,” he said again, softer this time. “The debt can wait.”
He disappeared through the archway, and she heard him settle somewhere in the main room. Standing guard, she realized. Watching over them while they slept.
She crawled into the bed beside her sister and pulled the furs close. They smelled like him—herbs and woodsmoke and that warm, wild scent she’d come to associate with safety. With comfort.
We’ll talk in the morning,she thought, her eyes already closing.We’ll figure out what comes next.
But for now, wrapped in borrowed furs in an exile’s den, with her sister breathing steady beside her and a Vultor warrior keeping watch through the storm… For now, she slept.
CHAPTER 10
The fire was dying. Tarek rose from his position near the entrance to the sleeping chamber and crossed to the hearth, carefully adding two more logs. The wood caught quickly, flames licking upward to cast flickering shadows across the stone walls. He stood for a moment, watching the fire build, then returned to his post.
The storm still raged outside. He could hear it—the howl of wind through the peaks and the relentless drum of rain against stone. It was the kind of storm that killed travelers, that turned mountain paths into rivers and buried the unwary beneath mudslides. The kind of storm that could easily have claimed two human females fleeing through the night with nothing but thin cloaks and desperation.
But they were here. Alive. Sleeping safely in his bed while he stood watch over them. His beast purred approvingly.Yes. This is what we are. This is what we were made for.
He pushed the thought aside with more force than necessary. He wasn’t a protector anymore. He’d given up that right five years ago when he walked away from everything he’d known.The Vultor who had believed in honor and protection and sacred bonds… that male was dead. Burned away by betrayal and disillusionment and the bitter knowledge that some things couldn’t be saved.
All that remained was a solitary creature in an exile’s den, one who had made the foolish mistake of offering shelter to strangers. Except they didn’t feel like strangers. They felt like… his.
Not a mistake.
He moved to the archway and looked into the sleeping chamber. The fire’s glow reached far enough to illuminate the bed—the pile of furs and the two figures nestled within them. Dani was curled on her side, her small form barely a bump beneath the furs. And Jessa…
Jessa lay on her back, one arm flung out, her face turned towards her sister. Even in sleep, she positioned herself as a barrier between Dani and the rest of the world. Protecting. Shielding. Always putting herself between her sister and harm.
Something twisted in his chest.She’s strong,his beast murmured.Fierce. A worthy m?—
He cut the thought off before it could complete itself.No.He would not go there. Couldn’t let himself go there.
But standing in the archway, watching the firelight play across Jessa’s sleeping face, he couldn’t deny what he was feeling. The bond between them, a bond he’d never asked for, had been growing since the moment he’d first caught her scent by the stream. Each encounter had strengthened it. Each conversation, each shared moment, each time she’d looked at him without fear…
His beast wanted her. He wanted to claim her and keep her safe. The desire was a constant pressure at the base of his skull, an itch beneath his skin that no amount of reason could scratch.
And it wasn’t just desire, though that was certainly part of it. The memory of her body pressed against his throughout the night on the mountain—her warmth, her softness, the way she’d fitted so perfectly into his arms—still haunted him. But what his beast craved went deeper than physical need. It wanted connection. Belonging. All the things he had sworn he would never seek again.
This is temporary,he told himself firmly.The storm will pass, and they will leave, and everything will return to how it was.
The thought should have brought relief. Instead, it left a hollow ache in his chest.
He retreated to the main room before he could do something foolish, like curl himself around both of them and pretend, just for one night, that he had the right. Instead he settled into his previous position, his back against the cool stone, and prepared for a long vigil.
The hours crawled past. He listened to the storm, to the hiss and pop of the fire, to the soft sounds of breathing from the other room. He rose periodically to tend the flames, gently adding wood so as not to wake his guests. Each time he checked on them, he lingered a moment longer than necessary—watching for signs of distress, counting the rise and fall of their chests, reassuring himself that they were still there. Still safe.
Still mine to protect.
The third time he entered the sleeping chamber, Dani had kicked off her blanket in her sleep. Exposed to the cooler air, herthin body had curled in on itself. A shiver ran through her as he approached—almost imperceptible but enough to send his beast into immediate alert.
He crossed to the bed silently. The blanket had fallen to one side, tangled around her legs, and he reached down to free it with gentle claws.
