He stood a little back, his gaze full of question. A little anxious. Definitely guilty. “Are you sure?”
“Very,” she breathed.
He had stepped back, but retained her fingers. She gripped his tightly as he said, “We’ll have to go outside. Chimeras and houses are not a good combination.”
They walked together out into the moonlit garden. He led her through the trees softly rustling in the last of the twilight breeze, to the open area of the rose garden. There, he stood back, faced her, and said, “Are you ready?”
No, she wasn’t. Her heart beat frantically, and she clenched her jaw against a worried exclamation—like, did mythic beasts go wild?—and then, between one blink and another, a great lion crouched before her, wings tightly folded against his body.
She couldn’t prevent a gasp, or a step back. But then she found herself stepping closer, to see that great maned head clearer in the light of the half moon. Though she could barely see details beyond the general lines of his face, there was something about those leonine eyes that was essentially Alejo. All at once the fright fell away, replaced by curiosity. And, as he regarded her steadily, admiration.
“Can I…touch?”
He moved those massive paws closer, and put his head down across them. He was so large that the top of his mane curled at the height of her knees. Higher, even. She put out a hand to stroke his mane. The hair was warm. Luxuriant. Softer than she would have guessed. The way he waited in that posture with his head down was so clearly meant to make it easy for her that her heart filled, and she flung her arms over his muscular back and buried her face in his mane. It smelled of wind and sun and there was the faintest trace of citrus, which she recognized. She’d thought that fragrance his shampoo, or soap, but it seemed to be part of him.
“You are beautiful,” she said softly. “Sam said there is a serpent?”
For answer, he slowly rose, and his tail and hindquarters stretched in a flicker, and there lay a scaled serpent tail, with spikes. “Wow,” she said. “No wonder Sam thinks you are the coolest of the cool.” She laughed, and stroked his scales. They were smooth as glass, not cold, nor warm. She felt a little buzzy sensation, as if bees walked on her hand. It was interesting, and she sensed the terrific power that he held strictly leashed. She found that far more sexy than frightening. “Can you talk in this form? No, that mouth was not designed for human words.”
Another flicker and there he was again, a man again, smiling at her. “We can talk mind to mind. Or will be able to, when you’re ready. It’s one of the perks of the mate bond.”
“Mate…bond?”
He nodded, his smile pensive. She stepped nearer to look up into his face. “What does that mean?”
“You are my mate. I saw it the first time I saw you. Mythic shifters—if they find their mate at all—mate for life.”
“Life…?”
“I meant what I said. If you want me, you have me forever.”
Her emotions were like a kite on a windy day, soaring, dipping, diving, then soaring higher, until she was nearly dizzy. “Is that why I keep feeling…this?” she said breathlessly. “I keep trying to warn myself not to assume. Not to expect. To be logical and adult and put all these feelings into the tidy little boxes that my life so far has taught me to keep very small and out of the way. To warn myself that what I feel is just rebound emotion. It won’t last. You won’t stay. I’m overreacting. Except why is it that we’ve only known each other for a week, but it feels like I’ve known you forever?”
“Mates,” he said, holding out his arms.
She walked into them.
FIFTEEN
ALEJO
They talked half the night, mostly about his experiences as a shifter. How he had been separated from his family, first his father, then his mother, during the days when keeping track of people was far more difficult. He readily answered her questions, hoping that she would in her turn be a bit less reticent, but he was not about to push. Each thing she revealed about herself was a cause for celebration, for it meant she was beginning to trust him. Even if he’d gone about everything “back asswards,” as Godiva often said. With Wendy—
MATE!roared the serpent.
—life was going to be one long conversation. And kisses. And cuddles, and …
More incandescent nights.
The first good thing? He no longer had to curb the instinct to connect with her by the mate bond. As they lay in bed in one another’s arms, he opened his mind to her, and the sweetness and trust of her emotions washed back over him so strongly that the placid contentment of moments ago fired up into a supernova of heat. And when he turned his head, he saw that heat blazing in her eyes as she reached for him.
Their nights had been good, oh, there was no doubt about that. Now, with desire and heat and the frantic need echoed back and forth between them, they both spiraled higher than either had ever believed possible, until they exploded together, spiraling down and down into slumber, still locked into one another’s arms.
But when he woke, it was to the practicality of day. The night’s passion—the joy intensified through the mate bond—lingered, leaving him sensitized to her emotions. Specifically a thread of worry beneath the happiness that made him smile.
He was fairly certain he knew the cause of that worry. It wasn’t so much Sam finding them together, it was her fear of her ex finding out, and making trouble.
Alejo had to clench down hard on the desire to go find that ass-clown and shake some sense into him. He managed to squelch his fury, though it took every ounce of will, when he thought about how much hurt Bill Champlain had caused Wendy. What to do about him was Wendy’s call.
