Page 58 of Love in the Wild

“It’s a park. It’s like a forest, but we’ll see lots of people here tomorrow during the day. Maybe even some people will be riding on horseback.”

Thorne suddenly looked at her. “Horses?”

“Yes.”

Thorne’s face transformed with excitement. “I remember horses. My father ... he liked to ride. I would sit in front of him.”

“I bet he did.” Eden smiled and leaned closer to him, and they both went back to studying the dark park. “Hey, are you hungry?”

Thorne touched his stomach with a mild frown. “Yes.”

“Then allow me to show you one of the great wonders of the modern world.” She looped a finger in one of the belt loops of his cargo shorts and pulled him back inside the room.

“What wonder?” he asked.

“Room service.”

* * *

Two hours later,Thorne set the food trays outside their suite as Eden instructed him to, then stepped back inside. Eden had told him there were two bedrooms, and one was his. That made no sense. There was no way he was going to let his mate sleep alone. He listened to her perform her confusing yet adorable cleansing rituals, such as washing her face.

It seemed that females did many complicated things before they slept. Things that Eden hadn’t been able to do until now. He enjoyed watching her do the small, puzzling things, trying to understand their purpose. At first it had bothered Eden to bear his scrutiny, but now she simply smiled and tossed tiny towels at his face whenever she caught him doing it. He liked it when she was playful. It meant she felt happy and safe.

Thorne was patient, waiting for Eden to crawl into bed. Once the light in her room was off, he stripped down and crept into Eden’s bedroom. The city of London was bright at night, with thousands of electric lights that left a tangible glow in the air that even now illuminated the dark room more clearly than moonlight. While Thorne missed the quiet dark of the jungle, he liked the fact that his vision was clearer at night here.

Thorne pulled back the covers of the bed and slid in beside her, pulling her against him. Whenever he feared he had made a mistake by leaving the jungle, taking his mate in his arms reminded him that he had done the right thing.

Eden settled back against him, her thin pajamas a delicate barrier between his bare skin and hers, but he didn’t mind. Clothing made her comfortable, just as he was more comfortable without them. At least at night, he didn’t have to worry about the suffocating grip of clothing.

“Thorne.” Eden whispered his name, but her eyes were closed and her breathing was steady and slow.

She’s dreaming of me.

The thought pleased him. He had dreamed of Eden even that first night he held her, dreamed of a lifetime of nights with her, to cherish and protect her. A life and a future. He longed for an infant of his own someday, and with a mate he had that chance. Eden was the true maker of his dreams.

He wanted to tell her how he felt, that he carried his love for her deep in his heart, but perhaps she wasn’t ready to hear it yet. Bwanbale had warned him that he must take things slow with Eden, that women from the outside world would not trust a man who declared his love too early. Eden had tried to tell him the same thing, when she’d explained dating. It would take time, and he would need to be patient.

Thorne kept the words inside him, waiting for the right moment. He hoped he would know when the time was right. Thorne nuzzled her neck and closed his eyes.

Sleep came on swift wings, but soon dreams began to flutter wildly within his mind. He was back in the jungle ...

The cave was calling to him.

The cave was dark and deep as always, with soft whispers luring him in. The dreams always started this way. He would enter the cave with the land around him exactly as he knew it, and later he would leave the cave to see the world as it once was. But something was different this time.

Thorne moved into the mouth of the cave. He could feel the cold moisture of the craggy rock floor on his feet. The whispers grew louder the deeper he walked into the cave. He could feel the presence of ancient souls all around him, speaking with voices he could not understand. Thousands of voices lived here, or had once. They were but echoes now, and he felt a strong sense of loss tied to them. He wanted to help, but he didn’t know how.

In the shadows he heard laughter that made Thorne’s blood run cold. He saw a man, obscured by the darkness, pick up a large brilliant stone that seemed to glow from within, casting dim shadows upon his face. The cave wailed as the man took the stone.

The images changed. He was outside the cave, but it was still his jungle. He was at the white rock, the wrecked plane before the jungle had claimed it. He saw his parents there, a small child in his mother’s arms. His father now carried the stone, but unlike the other man, he wished to save it, protect it. He saw his parents carrying him and fleeing the other man, but he knew they wouldn’t make it.

He was witnessing the final moments of his parents’ lives from a distance, like an outsider. Yet his heart remembered this all too clearly.

The vision jumped again. The sound of a gunshot as his father fell. His mother, pleading for Thorne’s safety, only to be shot as well. The men responsible now taking the stone from his father’s body and handing it to the man with the cold eyes and hard laugh.

Thorne opened his mouth to howl in rage, but he couldn’t make a sound. He strained to see the face of the man responsible, but he couldn’t get close enough.

The voices from the cave grew louder and more excited. This murderer was the one they wanted. The one they cried out against. The one who had disturbed the forgotten kingdom.

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