Page 16 of Forsaking His Mate

“We’re all survivors here, Tessa, but we’re stronger together. Hester… I might not always agree with her, but she saved us.” She gives me a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Get some sleep.”

I watch as she makes her way back to the stairs before I step into the room and shut the door behind me.

I sleep badly. That hole where my pack bond livedhurts my soul in a way I can’t explain. I toss and turn all night in the unfamiliar room, wishing I was back in my own bed, my father down the hallway.

When I do drift off, the nightmares come.

Hunters kill my father. I feel Mason die again. I sense the panic through the bond, and I wake in a cold sweat, unable to catch my breath.

I can’t stand it any longer, so as dawn approaches, I get out of the bed and creep out of the room. The house is silent, so I walk barefoot across the hall to the bathroom. Once the door is shut behind me, I relax a little.

I shower using the supplies in the cubicle, careful not to wet the gauze on my back. When I’m done, I find a toothbrush under the sink, still in its packaging, and I brush my teeth.

When I return to the lavender room, I find the closet stocked with garments, including some sweats and a t-shirt my size. They don’t look new, but I don’t care. Once I’m dressed, I make my way downstairs. I need caffeine and I want a moment to get the lay of the place. I find the kitchen at the back of the house, a large room with a big island in the middle and stools pushed under it. There’s a huge double stove built into a recess and a large sink in front of the window that overlooks the back of the house.

I go straight to the window and look out. There are at least ten cabins standing a little distance apart from each other, all made from dark wood. Each has a small porch out front and a window on either side of the door.

Behind the cabins is a lake surrounded by trees. The sun peeks over the top of the mountain range behind and catches the water, making it shimmer like diamonds.

It’s idyllic. Beautiful.

And it reminds me of home. We didn’t have the lake, but we did have the cabins and the same sense of community I feel here.

I don’t see any movement outside, and I hear nothing inside the house either. I wonder what time everyone wakes up.

Tearing my gaze from the view outside, I go to the coffee machine. It’s different from the one my dad had in our home, so I take a few moments to understand how it works. I fill the water to the indicated level and then go in search of mugs, finding them in a wall cupboard near the machine.

I’m waiting for the pot to fill when I hear movement coming from within the house.

My wolf’s ears prick up and her whine is high pitched. Excited. I don’t know what she’s sensing.

Then I scent him.

I gasp, holding my chest. I’ve never smelled anything like this. It is so powerful it nearly drives me to my knees. My wolf howls, baying as I grip the edge of the counter to keep my knees from buckling.

What the hell is happening?

The kitchen door is flung open, and a mountain of a man is standing there. It feels as if the universe takes a breath in and holds it as we make eye contact. His nostrils flare, and I know he’s taking in my scent.

All I can smell is him, too.

My head swims and I feel dizzied as he steps closer, unable to look away. The back of my neck feels clammy, my skin is on fire, and my stomach is filled with butterflies. I’m completely fascinated by him.

I scan the contours of his muscles and the way his biceps strain against the sleeves of his tee, my mouthsuddenly dry. He’s gorgeous, and I can’t stop staring, even though he’s not my usual type, with his floppy blond hair and a face that is all hard edges and lines. Granite eyes are locked on to mine and my wolf is going crazy.

I have no idea what is happening, but my body suddenly feels too hot, like it doesn’t belong to me anymore, and I can hardly draw air past the lump in my throat.

One word echoes in my mind, and I’m not sure if it comes from me or from my wolf, but I hear it clear as day.

Mate.

His hand snaps out and grabs me by the back of the neck, his grip possessive but not painful.

I would not allow a male to touch me like this, but with him… I want his hands all over me.

Our eyes connect, and I can’t speak or think.

He stares at me, not moving, and I can tell he’s going through the same turmoil.

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