Rheyas
Unforgivable.
I watch the mage get into his caragain,leaving her alone, unprotected when she’s sick. Vulnerable. If I were anyone else, she’d be dead by now, or I could have made off with her easily.
She’d be mine.
A low growl escapes my throat that I force down, not wanting to draw the attention of anyone nearby. I brought her here exactly for this reason, so she could move on, find someone to make her happy and take care of her where I couldn’t. But seeing as she clearly hasn’t, the girl needs a wakeup call. It’s like she’stryingto get herself killed. This town was clearly a bust, so I’ll find another for her to start over in.
Walking up the steps, I grip the handle before slamming my shoulder into the door. It groans on the first hit, and with the second, splinters open. Closing it as much as it will allow behind me, I step further into the room, nostrils flaring with my deep inhale.
Instantly, I regret the action, the desire to shift riding me hard enough that I almost let it take over. The faint traces I’ve grown accustomed to over the past week have done nothing to build any sort of tolerance. That damned scent of a summer rain, of nature, ofhome.It floods my senses, urging me to sink my teeth into her shoulder and mark her as mine, to haul her ass back with me and fuck her until my scent drowns hers, a warning to any others that cross her path that she’s mated.
Taking a second to force my instincts down and remain levelheaded, I stalk down the hallway, opening the door to her bedroom. It’s not even fucking locked.
My face scrunches up in distaste, the scent of the mage heavy in the room, mingling with hers. Not oversaturated, so it’s clear she’s been sleeping alone, but still enough that it puts me on edge. She didn’t so much as stir when I broke into the house, passed out on the bed with cheeks red from fever.
Fuck, I can’t travel with her like this. She’ll get worse.
Torn, I remain rooted to the spot. I should walk away, leave her here until the fever breaks. I can continue to guard the house from a distance and come back in a few days.
A soft, pathetic sound slips past her lips as she rolls over, causing my nails to lengthen on reflex. Turning on my heel, I march into the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wringing it dry. My claws gradually retract as I head back to her, rolling the damp cloth and laying it over her forehead.
Without a word, I leave the room, shutting the door softly behind me. Sliding down the wall, I take my spot on the floor. The mage thinks he’s worthy enough to stand beside my mate? Let him try to prove himself.
And when he fails, his home will provide a temporary shelter until Esmerelda heals and we can be on our way to hunt down a suitable replacement.
* * *
“Rin?I think I’ll be cashing in that blank check you guys owe me,” the mage whispers outside, his car door closing quietly.
Rising to my feet, I cross my arms against my chest, leaning against the wall. The sound of his footsteps sound up the stairs to the front door before it creaks open. He doesn’t call out, attempting discretion, so that’s a point in his favor for not being completely stupid.
He pulls to a stop at the end of the hall as he sees me, some sort of ball of air cupped in his palm. While I may not have had any interactions with mages beyond stories of their existence and the one behind me, I’m not so foolish as to assume Esmerelda was a good example of their capabilities.
“Can I help you?” he asks. Though his posture remains casually defensive, his face is tight with nerves.
“You can. Care to explain why you left your female unprotected while she was vulnerable, not just once, but twice?”
He shifts between his feet nervously, anger flashing on his face. “I had to work. Bills don’t pay themselves.”
My derisive scoff echoes down the hall. “And what would you have done when you’d returned to find her gone, hmm? Or her throat slit? Would your bills have mattered then?”
“Who the fuck are you, and why are you in my house?” he demands, taking a step closer, yet pointedly not answering my questions.
Uncrossing my arms, I rise to my full height, glaring down at him in disgust. “When her health improves, I’ll be taking her elsewhere. There are far better candidates.”
“You’re not taking my mate anywhere. Leave,” he declares, his words causing me to see red.
He dares make such a bullshit claim to my face without flinching.
Stalking down the hall, my claws extend, fury guiding my movements. He chucks the ball in my direction, easy enough to side-step. As my hand wraps around his throat, an invisible force pulses out of him that sends me crashing into the wall across the room.
With a snarl, I rise to my feet, eyeing his movements. Fingers splayed, he raises his hands again, face determined.
So his power is centered in his hands. I simply need to tear his arms off, and his witchcraft is useless.
Feigning left, I grab the leg of an end table, whipping it in his direction. His hands lift on instinct, casting a barrier like a bubble around him, causing the wood to splinter apart on impact. While his attention is focused on blocking the blow, I rush him, waiting for the moment he drops the barrier in a bid to attack before I strike.
