Page 15 of Love in the Wild

Thorne thought of the times Bwanbale came to visit him and the fantastical tales he told of the world beyond. Bwanbale had asked him once, “Where do you come from, my friend? Who are your people?”

But Thorne had no answer. He had no people, not in the way Bwanbale meant.

Yet now he gazed upon the remains of what could be his people. Their deaths filled him with a disquieting sorrow. He was no stranger to death, and he did not fear it. Yet he feared when death came for those he cared about. Each death among his gorilla family tore at Thorne’s heart, just as it did with these strangers. Their cold bodies lying still on the forest floor twisted his stomach with dread.

Only after some time had passed did the forest begin to speak again. The songs of waxbills with their chattering and the rasp of crickets as dusk approached. Thorne now moved among the fallen humans, inhaling the stale scent of death until he found an object that smelled like his female. He lifted it carefully to his nose.

It appeared to be made of a strange animal skin that was coarse beneath his fingers. He carried it away and began to hunt for fruit. The best trees were a mile from his home, so it took a little time for him to collect enough fruit for them both. He also had his water skin that Bwanbale had showed him how to make. He would take it to the waterfall and fill it with water for her.

He was halfway back to his home when an idea struck him. He wanted to give his female more than mere food and water. To be her mate, he should give her gifts. He could think of only one place that held things that might interest her. The dark cave of the gods. Thorne moved swiftly, taking the quickest path to the cave, and with his knowledge of the dark, he crept into the black heart of the gods’ dwelling.

Deep past the stalagmites and stalactites that had been formed by water dripping inside the dark realm over the eons, Thorne found his way to the chamber of sacred objects. There he searched, fingers touching the objects carefully until he found something that could hang upon her body. A strand of gold that tumbled in snakelike fluidity in his palm and warmed to his touch. It was large enough for him to put over his head and hang from his neck. Satisfied, Thorne finally returned home.

As he lifted the entrance to his house, he spotted her shape in the dim light from the small opening. She was curled up, asleep. He crept silently through the entrance, set her animal skin pouch down next to her, and then removed the necklace from his body and laid it close to her face. He set the fruit down on a large wax leaf and held his breath, waiting for her to wake.

She sighed, soft and sorrowful, one of her hands resting beneath her cheek, fisted as though she had been plagued by awful dreams. But after a moment, the tightness of her features vanished and she relaxed.

Thorne was enchanted by the sight of her. Now that she was still, unafraid, and unaware of his scrutiny, he could study her at his leisure. He counted her lashes and memorized the shape of her nose, her lips, her winged brows that arched above green eyes that were still closed.

It was good he was here. She needed protection. To sleep so deeply and not sense danger or even hear his return? She was helpless.

I will care for you.But he could only think the words. His tongue was still tied by some invisible force, trapped by a foolish fear that he would not be able to communicate with her if he tried to speak.

Thorne nestled in behind her to rest. He kept one ear trained to listen for any sounds of danger, but after a while he calmed enough to relax. He came closer, wishing to hold his future mate. He should have washed himself clean of the mud on his skin. Perhaps she did not fully see that she was the same as him. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would show her. He would take her to the waterfall and begin his courtship. Until then, he would give her body the comfort of his presence.

He pulled her closer with gentle hands, tucking her into the curve of his own body. She moaned and settled against him, tucking her head under his chin. Warmth swept through Thorne’s body, and a sense of contentment he’d not felt since childhood overwhelmed him. His eyes burned as he held his mate in his arms.

You are my future, my mate, my destiny. My everything.

Outside, the jungle plunged into the depths of twilight, its sable mantle lying over the impenetrable forest.

4

Screams. Gunshots. A mighty roar. Deafening silence.

Eden jerked awake as the nightmares broke through her sleep. She gasped when she found herself unable to move. Was this another nightmare? She glanced wildly around the room, trying to make sense of where she was, and found herself staring into the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen. The mud-streaked face from her nightmares was real.

She gasped again and tried to pull away. He held tight a moment before loosening his grip, clear disappointment in his eyes.

Eden scrambled back, and something behind her tumbled across the floor. He sat up and moved around her to collect whatever it was she had disrupted. In the gray light of early morning, she saw him put pieces of skinned mango on a leaf that was bigger than his two hands cupped together.

He grunted, chuffed, and even whistled at her as he held out the mangoes. Eden stared at the food, her stomach grumbling on cue at the sight of the fruit. His mouth curved into a smile, and he nodded to her in encouragement. She reached across the space between them and took a mango, trying not to stare at him. Much of the thick mud from earlier had fallen away to expose his body to her view, but his face was still darkened with it, making it hard to fully see his features aside from those wildly blue eyes.

The trauma of yesterday was still in the back of her mind, but she could now focus on her mysterious savior, this wild and strange forest god. And a god he was. There was a mighty strength to his limbs, and he had a noble bearing that held her fascinated—and more than a little frightened. She was helpless against this man. If he desired it, he could take whatever he wished from her. Yet he gazed upon her with gentle eyes and offered her mangoes.

She took another piece of fruit and was floored by the devastating effect his responding smile had on her stomach, which suddenly filled with butterflies.

“Thank you,” she said, only she felt silly doing so, since it was obvious he didn’t understand her. She bit into the fruit and sighed at the sweet taste. He watched her eat two more pieces before he finally ate one himself. Then he reached for something on the floor and held it out to her.

Midday sunlight caught on the bright gold of a long necklace. It was an ancient-looking necklace with a huge diamond pendant hanging from the center.

“Oh my God ...”

She was almost afraid to touch it, but he pushed it into her hands before she could refuse him. He curled her fingers around the necklace and patted her closed hands with a tenderness that left her feeling breathless.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” She stared at the necklace, and he watched her expectantly. Eden did the only thing she could think of and put the necklace on. He grunted and smiled, as if satisfied with her reaction, and then he opened the trapdoor in the center of the room. He turned, exposing his back to her, and pointed at himself.

It looked like she was going for another ride. She climbed onto his back, more aware than ever of the heat of his body between her thighs, but the dried mud that coated his body was staining her clothes, and she prayed she could find her way to a river or stream or even a pond to get washed up.

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