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He just shrugged and walked to his pack, returning the ax. But he moved more easily now — like some of theweight had been lifted — perhaps with the physical activity … or maybe it was the fixing?

Fighting and fucking certainly helpedmeunwind. Maybe he was similar. And Lynnhadmentioned something about him fixing watches as a hobby.

"Go on in," Tye commanded, raspy voice cutting off my wayward thoughts.

Where did he get off telling me what to do?

Irritation bit at me, but I really was curious what it looked like inside, and I didn't wantanotherargument.

So, I bit my tongue, gathered our bags, and strode into the little building.

My brows rose.

I'd expected the small space to be empty, rotting, and full of animal refuse … but Tye had worked his magic there, too.

The room was dry; there was an old stove, a set of beds, a small table, and even a pair of spindly chairs — all of which showed recent signs of repair.

It was almost … cozy.

Who had the cabin belonged to before being abandoned?

I could just imagine it — some family filling the space, raising children, growing old —

"I'll get us some meat," Tye said, voice rough. "You prep the rest of the stew."

Anotherorder?! I turned to tell him off and froze …

He'd stripped off his shirt and was washing off the dust with a damp rag. His golden skin glistened in thefirelight, revealing defined, thick muscles on his giant frame.

My heart gave a slow thump as the hungry bond between us woke.

I wanted to turn back — to look away from his bare, tattooed skin, and that V leading lower, but I couldn't look away.

We were alone in that little house for the night, and he was right there, almost close enough to touch —

The bond demanded I get closer … run my hands down his chest … taste the salt on his skin … mark him as mine.

His gaze caught mine, pupils blown, nostrils flared, and we stood there — locked in the moment for several heartbeats.

A crash outside broke whatever spell we were under, and Tye cleared his throat.

Pulling on a clean shirt, he tossed a heavy bundle on the table.

"Stay here," he demanded. "Use those if anyone comes." He pointed to the bundle, then stormed out without another word.

I slumped against the table edge, hand pressed to my still throbbing midsection as I tried to push down the charisma and bond burning inside me — a raging fire demanding I go after my mate and finish what we started.

Forcing several deep breaths, I bit my tongue untilI could taste the coppery tang of blood, and finally my head began to clear.

What the fuck was happening to me?

Never before had the sight of a bared male chest been enough to make me lose my mind. But lately it felt as if I were constantly on edge — one moment myself, and the next I was back in the heat of the first night we kissed, or the dreams of him tongue fucking me, or in that dark alcove the night before.

The bond was growing stronger — impatient …just like that woman had said back in the Preying Wilds.

Hells, if this was what he felt all the time, how was he resisting … and why? Was the thought of being with mereallyso awful?

My stomach twisted.