Someone—not Farren—touched his forehead, and behind him, a man growled.
“Shut it, Liam. Ya’ know I’m only makin’ sure he’s all right.” Caitlin. Was Liam that much of an arse that he didn’t want his mate touching another man?
“Excuse me,” Mara said. “Who’s the nurse here?”
“He could be dangerous, honey.” The warning from Cade gave Eli the strength to force his eyes open.
“Won’t...hurt anyone,” he managed.
“Sorry if I don’t believe you,” the alpha male wolf bit out.
“Do your worst. Not sure I care any longer.” As soon as he’d uttered the words, he regretted them. Farren’s pain seeped through their joined hands. How in the bloody hell was that even possible?
“Well, I care,” she said, angling her body between Eli and Cade as a shield. “This is my feckin’ house and more importantly,my mate. So ya’ take a step back and give the man some space.”
Meeting his gaze, she sighed. “Whether ya’ want me or not, Eli, I told ya’—”
“You’d protect me with your life.” He pulled her down so she was practically lying on his chest and brushed his lips to her cheek. “I’m sorry,preciosa. I understand now. Some of it. I never meant to hurt you.”
“Preciosa? Where did that come from?” Her words, quietly whispered in his ear, held a hint of amusement, despite the tension infusing the room.
“My father.” The man had used the term all the time with his mother, and now that his memories were pinging around in his head at light speed, he picked the single word out from amid the jumble of so many more.
It was inappropriate. Farren wasn’t his lover or his girlfriend or his...anything. Was she? Fuck it. She was.
“The mate bond is unbreakable.”
His mother had explained love and mating to him. They’d explained so very many things that last day. Too many.
“Help me get him up and to the couch,” Farren said sharply. “This floor is cold and he needs a cup of strong tea. Tierney? Ewan?”
Two sets of hands, one on each of his arms, and he was standing—though not under his own power. The werewolves half dragged him into the living room, and Liam lit a fire in the hearth while Caitlin headed for the kitchen.
He didn’t want to be out here. Hewantedto go up to Farren’s bedroom. To fall asleep in her bed, surrounded by her intoxicating scent. He was too weak to manage the stairs on his own, and someone—or several someones—had already carried him up there once in the past twelve hours.
“Eli?” Farren leaned closer, concern—and something more—in her gray eyes. “What just happened?”
Clearing his throat, he tried three times to find the words but all he wanted to do was stare deep into this woman’s soul and ask her how she could be so certain they were destined for one another after one single moment on that beach.
The kettle whistled, and Eli scrubbed his hands over his face, taking a moment to sort through the mess in his head.
“Can ya’ sit up, luv?” Farren asked. After his nod, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and fuck. Her scent was making parts of his body respond that hedefinitelydidn’t want the others to notice.
“Drink this. Earl Grey.” Caitlin set a teacup and saucer in front of him, then backed away to rejoin her mate. “The binding spell is gone, yeah?”
“It is.” His entire being felt...free. Different. Like his very molecules, his DNA, his cells had stretched and expanded, reformed into something new. With Farren pressed to his side, he was stronger, and staggered to his feet. “I...have to try something.” With a quick glance at Cade and Liam, he continued, “I won’t hurt anyone. I give you my word.”
“We don’t know you,” Cade said. “Your word means nothing to us.”
“It means somethin’ to me. And since this is my house, ye’ll keep back and trust him or ye’ll get out.” Despite her threats, there was a hint of affection in her tone. “Ye’re family, Cade. All of ya’. But he’s my mate.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Whether he accepts me or not.”
Bloody hell. He wanted to accept her right now, but he couldn’t. Not without a whole lot more conversation and a chance for her to honestlyknowhim.
Cade and Liam crossed their arms over their chests and waited, their wary expressions almost identical to one another. If he didn’t think either of them could tear him apart without breaking a sweat, he’d laugh.
With Farren’s arm around his waist, he headed for the french doors that opened out onto the patio. Crisp morning air brought more clarity, and he kicked off his shoes, balled his socks up inside of them, and left Farren on the flagstones while he walked barefoot onto the lawn.
Fuck me.
