Cian angled his body slightly in front of Reaper as if he could shield him from Fionn’swrath. “We spoke the vow.” There was an edge of warning in his voice. “That’s all. The ropes would’ve killed us both if we hadn’t.” The unspokenback the hell offhung in the air between them, reinforced by the growl of the wolf deep inside him.
Fionn’s gaze darkened, his fingers flexing as if he were imagining wrapping them around Cian’s throat. “You have until the sun rises in the morning. If you’re not mated by then, both of you will be no more.”
Whoa, what?
Shit.
This was going way faster than he wanted it to.
Cian didn’t seem as bothered as he glared at Fionn. “We’ll make it.”
Fionn’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “See that you do.” He turned away abruptly and barked orders to the warriors gathered nearby. “Darragh, they are to go to the sacred grove. Give them horses and see that no one disturbs them.”
Darragh dipped his chin at Fionn, then gestured to them both, “This way.” He didn’t wait for a response, already turning to lead them through the camp, his path clearing as warriors melted out of his way.
Reaper didn’t move immediately. His gaze flicked to Fionn’s retreating back, then to the chaos of the camp around them. “What about the battle?”
Fionn didn’t look back. “We have won the battle.” His voice was flat, devoidof triumph. “Your mate’s father will lick his wounds for a while.” His eyes flicked to Cian. “But this isn’t over.”
Cian’s fingers found Reaper’s, threading through them with a possessiveness that sent a jolt through Reaper’s system. “Then we’ll be ready.”
Darragh led them through the camp, past warriors tending to the wounded, past the curious glances and murmured whispers of those who watched them pass. The wounded were being carried to makeshift triage areas, their faces pale but determined, while others sharpened weapons or stoked fires, already preparing for whatever came next. The camp was a machine of war, and Reaper couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being judged as they moved through it.
At the edge of the camp, a pair of white horses waited. One of the beasts tossed its head, its eyes rolling white, but stilled the moment Cian approached. He pressed his forehead to the horse’s muzzle with a familiarity that spoke of old bonds. “I have known this one since he foaled on the slopes of Sliabh Mis,” Cian murmured. “They’ll get us there fast.”
Reaper muttered a curse under his breath but mounted up. The horse shifted beneath him, its muscles bunching, and for a second, he was sure he was about to eat dirt. But then Cian’s hand was there, gripping his thigh with a strength that grounded him. “Trust me.” His fingers felt warm even through the fabric of Reaper’s pants.
He kicked the horse into motion. “Are you coming?”
“I am,” Cian called after him. “But you’re going the wrong way.”
Fuck my life.
He got the horse turned around and thundered after Cian, then settled in to ride next to him. He glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. The man moved like he was part of the damn horse, his body swaying in perfect rhythm with its gait. He could feel Cian’s gaze, but he didn’t turn his head. He had until they made it to wherever they were going to figure out if he could do this.
Mate or die.
Say the words, baby…please help me help you.
This is happening.
Say the words, baby…please help me help you.
Mate or die.
Say the words, baby…please help me help you.
This is really fucking happening.
Do I want to stop it?
No.
Yes.
Fucking option number four.
He’d spent years avoiding anything that even resembled a relationship. After Derek, he’d sworn he’d never let anyone close enough to hurt him again. Now he was bonded to a man he barely knew, a warrior from a world he didn’t understand, with a deadline hanging over their heads like a guillotine.
