Page 6 of Unwilling Mate

He nuzzles his face in my grasp and then leans down to brush his mouth so very gently against mine. I jolt, pinned under his weight, and shocked by my very first kiss. His eyes fly wide as if he realizes it at the same time I did.

When he gently eases off me, I reach my hand to catch his but miss, and he heads out the door. The room loses its warmth. Even my skin seems to leach of its sensation. Tears roll down my cheeks unbidden as I try to get up and crawl after him. Yes, I’d crawl if he didn’t leave me right now.

I roll over and try to get off the bed, but I’m not strong enough, and I’m naked, so a fall would likely crack a rib or two. A shadow falls over me, and I stare up at the mountainous height of him. He’s got a soft sort of ginger hair that is so unruly it doesn't look like it’s been cut in months and a soft beard that I can still feel against my skin. But the rest of him is nothing but muscle and strength, like a caged beast in human skin.

He crouches, completely naked, and swipes a tear off my cheek. “No, Little One, you don’t cry. Not over this. It’s not worth your tears.”

A part of me feels like almost dying may be worth a few tears. But I can’t pretend it was the reason my face is drenched, and I’ve got wet splotches on my chest. I thought he was leaving me, and something in me couldn’t handle the prospect of him being gone. I shake my head and latch my hands onto his wrist, mouthing the word, “Stay,” hoping he understands.

“I’m not going to leave you, my mate.”

Mate?I’m not sure why he calls me his mate, but there is something about the way he says it. Like it’s a sacred thing to be. I also notice the way he said yet. Meaning he will leave meeventually and someone that thought makes me incredible sad, so I decide to hod on to the word mate instead.

“Yes, that’s right. You are my mate, my woman, my other half, and I won’t leave you until I know you are okay. Not after I went to so much trouble to save you.” He winks and then rolls me effortlessly onto my back to mop at my thighs with a warm wet rag.

I jerk and move to cover myself, but he slaps my hands like a child. “Don’t you dare. I will care for my mate. Be still.”

It’s not the tone of his voice that makes me comply, but the loving, gentle touch he gives me. He cleans me reverently as if my body is the most precious thing to him. When he’s done, he cleans himself roughly and tosses the rag to the floor.

I almost try to get up to put the rag in the basket. After all, I’m the one who will be stuck cleaning up after him come morning. Or when I wake up because this must be a dream. It’s the only explanation. Except he smells like the trees, the forest, the rich scent of the earth I love to draw into my lungs. He smells wild and free in a way I’ll never be able to understand in this skin.

More tears fall down my cheeks, and he swipes them away with a gentle shake of his head. “No, we don’t show weakness. Not to these kinds of people. Do you understand?”

I nod, this time rubbing my forearm over my cheek.

He kisses me on the brow gently. “Very good, Little One. Now, I need to get you back to my house so you can rest. The mating can speed up healing, but we aren’t out of the woods yet. I need to take you home and make sure you’re safe. Do you understand?”

I nod, though I still don’t understand half of what he’s saying. He crouches effortlessly and completely nude to lift me into the cradle of his arms. “Comfortable?”

I give him another nod. He tucks the blanket around me, covering my bare skin so only my toes peek out from the soft fabric. “So precious, my mate,” he whispers, almost to himself. “Let us leave this place. I don’t like the stench of these humans.”

Humans?The way he says that indicates he is not. I have heard stories about people living in the mountains who turn into wolves, but I always thought those were just stories to keep people away. Even now, the idea of a man turning into an animal seems ridiculous, but looking at this rugged, naked man who makes me feel like I never have before, I start to believe.

As if he could hear the question in my head, he explains, “I’m a shifter, Abigail. I’m not all human, though I might look like it right now. There are a lot of differences, and one of them is that shifters don’t choose who they spend their life with. Fate chooses for them, and you, my little mate, is who fate chose for me.”

My mind is reeling as he carries me out of the room and down the hall. My stepmother and stepsisters are holding each other on the couch as if she wouldn’t throw her daughters under a bus to keep herself safe. For the first time in my life, I look at the woman who raised me, who made me her servant, and I feel absolutely nothing. Not hate, not pity, not fear…nothing. As if a great black hole swallowed the painful mass where my heart used to be. They can all rot in hell, and I’d never even care that they were gone.

I turn away to look in front of us as the man carries me from the house. Out in the open night air, I can breathe deeply, drawing the scent of the trees into my lungs. It’s still tinged with smogand smoke, but I don’t care. It smells cleaner than inside the house.

“We have a long walk ahead, my mate. Try to rest as we walk, and we’ll get there in no time.”

I nod and relax into his grasp, letting him take control and lead me out of the life I’ve always resented into something new. We walk for what seems like forever, and I wonder how he isn’t tired or ready to drop me in the dirt after carrying me for miles and miles up a mountain.

“We aren’t far from my home now, my mate. I can’t wait to smell your scent on my sheets and your cunt on my skin.”

I blink and then decide to ignore that statement, despite the fact that it lights my insides up like a firecracker. My body misses the feel of him inside me, but I don’t know why. I study his face and his neck while we walk. There are scars on his neck and chest, small ones, but I can see the faint white against his tanned skin. His hair, even in the dark, has copper undertones, and I want to run my fingers through it to feel its softness again. There are so many things I want to ask him and to hear him talk about. I want him to call me Little One and My Mate, and anything else that makes him focus those intense eyes on me for even a flash of a second. I want to hear him say my name.

I cup his cheek, and he laughs. “Getting impatient, are we? We’ll be there in an hour. Hold tight, Abigail, and you’ll see your new home soon.”

We keep walking, him moving me about to ensure I’m always comfortable in his hold. Soon, I’ve got my face pressed against the rock-hard expanse of his chest, the sound of his heartbeat in my ears lulling me. I want to stay awake to see his home andlearn more about him, but I can’t. It seems impossible not to drift off.

His words reach me in the dark. “Sleep. We’ll be there soon, and you can get some rest. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll always keep you safe.”

I blink a few times and watch the trees above my head. When he lets out a low sigh, I turn enough to look out into the darkness. He must see his home, but it’s too dark for me to catch sight of it, so I roll back into the warmth of his body and snuggle in tight.

4

THORN

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