Page 14

“Ah, kind of,” she murmurs, and I open my eyes to see her trying to tug my shirt down her legs. As I climb out, I notice her normally wavy red hair is straight as a pencil from being wet. She steps back as I approach her.

“I have no pants on,” she squeaks.

“I know,” I laugh, holding my hand out to her. She looks at it before sighing and taking it as I scoop up the bag, tossing it over my shoulder.

We start the long trek back to the castle, but the longer we walk, the slower she becomes as mosquitoes attack her flesh.

Her hands swat at her naked legs as she tries to stop them from biting her.

We are at least another thirty minutes from the castle at this pace.

Stopping, I adjust the bag on my shoulder.

Grabbing her under the arms, she squeals as I pick her up.

“What are you…”

“Wrap your legs around my waist,” I tell her, but she doesn’t, and I growl when she remains stiff as a plank in my hands. Hugging her closer, I crush her against my chest before lifting her legs around my hips and placing my arm under her butt. She squeaks, shoving off my chest and thrashing.

“Are you done; stop hitting me,” I tell her, nipping at her neck and she freezes though I am curious about her strange reaction to me pulling her closer. I lick her cheek. Her heart hammers against my chest, her skin is ice cold, and she is shaking.

“It’s quicker, I can run with you.” I pull my face back to look at her.

“Just run?” she gasps, looking at me. I stare at her, wondering what she thought I was going to do.

“What else?” I ask her. She looks away, and I growl when I feel her dig her knees into my ribs as she moves up higher.

I hoist her up before realizing where her pelvis was resting before.

Surely she didn’t think—not only was that impossible while I was in this form, I would never force her but did she think I would?

Shaking that thought away, I start walking.

“Wrap your arms around my neck,” I tell her. Abbie does, glancing over her shoulder at the trees when she turns back. Her nose bumps into mine, and she giggles.

“Sorry,” she mutters, her cheeks reddening, and she glances around before peering down. “Gosh, you’re tall,” she stammers as if she has only just noticed that as I duck under a tree branch.

“And fast, so you may want to tuck your face into my neck,” I tell her, pushing her face into my shoulder with one hand. I feel her breath move through my fur, and her arms squeeze tighter around my neck.

“Ready?” I ask her, and I feel her nod. I take off running through the woods.

Her squeal turns to laughter and makes me run faster as we zip through the trees heading home.

The warmth of her body is comforting, and for once, I feel warm inside instead of the cold feeling that usually churns within me.

She is like fresh air after so many years of having the oxygen stolen from my lungs.

As much as whatever trauma taints her, she did not wilt and wither away as I did.

It has not turned her cold and uncaring; she still has life within her, and I find I crave seeing that on her face.

Seeing the way she lights up with excitement, the way she comes out of her shell when she thinks no one is watching.

When the castle lights come into view through the gaps in the trees, I slow.

Some part of me expects her to try to make me put her down, but instead, she remains in my arms. A place I suddenly never want her to leave.

Yet as we got closer, I know I have to set her down and leave her side.

A place I want to remain but can’t because she is not mine and I am not hers, but for a second, I can pretend.

Pretend she is the mate I was destined for.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” I ask her, and she purses her lips, lips that I desperately want to taste.

“Going into town with Clarice,” she answers as I brush a fern away so I can step through the gap in the trees. I hoist her up higher, making her bounce in my arms as she scrambles to grip on to me, so she doesn’t fall backward.

“You don’t want to go?” I ask her.

“I want to see Ivy. I hardly see her anymore.”

“You and Ivy are close,” I tell her.

“She is all I have,” she says. I nod.

“What about you?” she asks, and I can hear the curiosity in her voice before she blushes.

“You don’t have to answer. Sorry, that was rude,” she says, and I nudge her with my nose.

“Why is it rude?” I ask her as I start to climb the hill to the cemetery.

“Rogues should know their place, speak when spoken to or not at all.” She shrugs.

“I was raised in the kingdom, alongside the king and Beta Damian and the rest of the royal guard. My father was the King’s Gamma, and my mother was a maid, though Clarice basically raised me,” I answer her.

“You were raised by Clarice?”

I laugh because Clarice raised nearly everyone in the castle. She was like the universal mother.

“Yes, like most of the king’s guards, the titles are usually handed down, then we competed for the best places. All the guards are of Gamma blood or higher,” I answer her.

“Higher?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“But there is only one Beta.”

“Liam is of Beta blood, but we can only have one Beta and he doesn’t want it,” I tell her.

“So, how do you compete?”

“The trials, Liam, could match Damian, but he is a little unhinged and always drunk.”

“Could he beat you in the trials? Aren’t you third in command?” she asks, and I hum.

“If he wanted to, I suppose, but then again, I train daily with the guard, so probably not, but if it came to orders and he chose to use his aura, yes.”

“Doesn’t it bother him that he is of lower rank than you since he is Beta blood.”

“No, he is like my brother, just like Damian and Kyson. Packs are family, united. It doesn’t matter where we fall. We all have each other’s backs where it counts.”

“Sounds like me and Ivy—more than my life,” she says, and my brows pinch together at her words.

“And what does more than my life mean to you?”

“Means I fight, you fight, we fight together, we die together,” she says simply, yet the far-away look she gets, I feel it means more than what she claims.

“I will speak to Kyson and see if he will allow her to see you. We are going away soon. I need to go to one of the neighboring kingdoms with the king.”

“There is another kingdom?” she asks curiously.

“Yes, but it’s a fallen kingdom; the Landeena Kingdom.” I tell her and she nods slowly.

“So why are you going there?”

“The king wants to look back into the old case; they were supposedly murdered by hunters, but they had a daughter who was never found. One who was promised to the king when she came of age.”

“How long ago did the kingdom fall?” she asks.

“About sixteen years ago, usually Damian would go with him, but the king is paranoid this time since he intends to take Ivy with him.”

“Why?” she asks, and I feel the rapid beat of her heart thumping erratically against my chest. I don’t answer because I can’t, yet her worry makes me regret mentioning it.

“She’ll be fine. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

“Yes, but why is she leaving? What does the king want with her? She should be with me. We have never been separated. She—” she sucks in a breath and kicks her legs, wanting to be put down. I let her slide down as she moves to climb the hill.

I catch her hand to stop her. “Abbie?”

“I should go inside; I have chores to do,” she says while trying to tug down the shirt she is wearing as if her nudity bothers her.

I think it odd. She is the first werewolf I have met that is afraid of showing her own skin.

But then again, I was scared to show her mine, not because I am shy, that definitely isn’t it, but because I don’t want her to pity me.

“She will be fine, Abbie,” I try to reassure her, but she doesn’t look like she believes me.

“Yeah, and that’s what Alpha Dean said when he brought us to the orphanage, that we would be fine.

No one tells you their intentions Gannon, not really.

Not until they have what they want from you, and by then, it’s too late,” Abbie says, rushing off and leaving me dumbfounded. Are we talking about the same thing?