Page 43 of Savage Giant

“Gorran, are you okay? They shot at you so many times… did they hit you? Have you been shot?” She placed a hand on my arm, careful not to touch any dark, wet spots. “Please tell me that’s not your blood I see.”

I reached out to touch her, then retracted my hands, not wanting to smear Salax’s blood on her. “I am fine, pretty human, please do not fret. None of the blood is mine.”

She glanced around me, peering into the woods. “The blood all belongs to him? To Salax?”

“Yes. I fulfilled my vow to you.”

Her eyes widened, and I knew she was remembering my promises to maim and slaughter, and to rip his arms from his body and let him bleed out.

“He will never frighten you again, my sweet mate. Look at me.” I waited until she met my eyes. “He’s gone. He’sgone.”

She nodded and exhaled a long breath. The wind blew her locks around her shoulders, the rising sun glinting off every individual strand. I mused that she looked like an ethereal being, a spirit sent to guide a lost soul into the Afterland, and I regretted that I couldn’t sweep her up in my arms and kiss her, but I would not mar her loveliness with the vile man’s blood.

“I will get cleaned up, and then we will depart for the cavern,” I announced. “I long to bring you home, Cari, and I long to make youmineforever.”

Chapter 31

CARI

Gorran orderedme to wait upstairs while he disposed of the other bodies—Salax’s two favorite goons, the ones who usually stood outside his office door. I wasn’t sorry they were dead. Relief filled me to bursting, and there was a part of me that couldn’t fathom it was truly over—I would never have to worry about the mob boss hunting me down again.

But itwasover, and I was safe. Gorran was safe too. He hadn’t gotten so much as a scratch, somehow managing to dodge the blaster fire.

I didn’t ask what he’d done to Salax, though I could easily imagine. I’d heard the man’s screams resounding loud and clear, the pain and terror, the sheer panic and agony. I’d watched Salax order men killed, I’d watched him oversee brutal interrogations that had left men mutilated for life. Whatever Gorran had done to Salax, I was certain the mob boss had finally gotten what he deserved.

When I heard heavy footsteps on the stairs, I rushed to turn the shower on, wanting to get it nice and warm for Gorran. He shot me an appreciative look as he entered the main bedroom.

“It is done,” he said. “By the time we return to your cabin for a visit, their bodies will have been reclaimed by nature. You will never have to worry about seeing them again.” He glanced out the window. “The hovercraft is a problem though. I cannot move it away from here on my own. Do you think any of Salax’s brethren will track the vessel and come looking for him?”

I hadn’t thought about the hovercraft, but he had a good point. I followed his gaze to the blue vessel and shrugged. “I’m not certain, but if they come looking and find the bodies…” My voice trailed off. “At least the cavern is far from my cabin, and we’ll be long gone before anyone comes looking.”

“I will shower quickly and then we will leave,” he said, “just in case.” He nodded at the broken bathroom door. “You will sit in the bathroom with me as I clean myself, pretty human. I want to keep you close.”

Despite all the scary events of the morning, my pulse spiked at the idea of watching Gorran take a shower. I tried to tamp down my desires—what kind of person gets horned up at a time like this?—and quietly followed him into the bathroom.

I kept my eyes averted as he showered, forcing myself to focus on the reality of our situation—we needed to leave soon. Just on the off chance anyone was tracking Salax. If he’d truly been about to go to trial, he’d probably broken the terms of his bail by leaving Portland. The authorities were more likely to come looking for him than a concerned friend or business partner, and I wanted to be long gone before that happened.

Gorran emerged from the shower, his dark fur shining black in the overhead lights. When he was wet, his fur matted against his body, and every perfectly sculpted muscle of his became well-defined. I swallowed hard, pretended to be very interestedin a mismatched tile on the wall, and tossed two towels in his direction.

From my peripheral vision, I saw him vigorously drying himself off. He would need to stand in front of the woodstove for a few minutes, and if he tried to go outside with his fur still damp, I would insist upon it. The last thing we needed was one of us catching a chill.

No words passed between us as he followed me downstairs, the boards groaning with his every step. We paused in front of the woodstove, and I glanced toward the kitchen, suddenly remembering the muffins I’d planned to make for breakfast. I’d prepped the ingredients last night—all I needed to do was toss everything in a bowl, mix quickly, then bake.

“I’ll make breakfast while you dry off,” I said, and took a step toward the kitchen, only for Gorran to grasp my hand and draw me back to his side.

Turning me to face him, he draped his arms around me, though he didn’t embrace me to his chest. Likely because he didn’t want to get me wet. Heated waves from the woodstove pelted us, and the light in the cabin became brighter as the new day dawned.

He gave me a solemn but heartfelt look before leaning down to nuzzle my nose. Then he rested his forehead on mine, and he placed a hand over my beating heart, as though to reassure himself that I still lived and breathed. I thought the gesture endearingly sweet, and I placed my hands on his hips, curling my fingers into his soft, damp fur.

“I love you, Cari,” he said quietly, and his eyes brimmed with affection.

My throat burned, and I struggled to take in air. I’d known he loved me; I’d felt his devotion in the current of warmth that usually passed between us whenever we touched. But hearinghim voice his feelings aloud made the world stop spinning in another timeless moment.

“I love you, too, Gorran,” I said once I found my voice.

He lifted his forehead from mine, then bent further to press the softest of kisses to my lips. I melted at his tenderness, at the affection that poured through our bond.

Eventually, I went to make breakfast while Gorran finished drying himself by the woodstove. But when I returned with a plate of muffins, he wasn’t in the living room where I’d left him.

---