Page 71 of Wolf's Prize

Kathryn pursed her lips. “Is that why you came? Because I am the only one you could breed with?”

He recoiled as though she had struck him. “No. That wasnevermy intention. I swear to you.”

The sincerity of his words hung in the air between them. “Whatareyour intentions? Once my training is complete, what are your plans for me?”

Aimon sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he met her gaze with a determined thrust of his chin. “You are my mate.”

Kathryn grimaced. “Because I can bear you children?”

Aimon’s lips thinned. “No.” He tapped his chest. “I feel it here. In the very core of my being. My wolf has known it from the moment we met. I was so focused on your training and your safety, I did not recognize it as more than desire. Not until I took you to see Gaharet.”

Kathryn’s chest squeezed. He had not recognized her as his mate? Gaharet had told him? What did that say about his feelings for her? No words of love, only a knowing as though God, fate or perhaps the moon itself had willed it so.

“Do you not feel it, Kathryn? Are you not drawn to me with every breath you take?”

A shiver rippled through her body. She did feel it. Were her choices once again being manipulated, this time by some unseen force? Resentment and doubt weaved its way into her heart.

Aimon took a step forward, his arms reaching for her. She held up her hand, forcing him to stop. If she allowed him into her bedchamber, let him touch her, kiss her, then this conversation would be but a blur, forgotten in the heat of passion. Until the morrow.

“I need some time to think. Alone.”

He dropped his hands to his side, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. He gave her an abrupt nod. The emptiness in his gaze almost had her wavering, but she firmed her resolve.

“Good night, Aimon.”

She closed the door and pressed her face against the cool timber, listening to his footsteps as he walked away. She slid down the door, her eyes moistening and her vision blurring. Would she really consider marrying another of Gaharet’s vassals? Take a man to her bed other than Aimon? Her body and her mind revolted at the thought. But where once she had resigned herself to marrying a man she did not love, could she now marry a man she loved deeply, with her whole heart, knowing he may never really love her in return?

Aimon stalked away and stomped down the stairs, the pressure in his chest almost too much to bear. He swept into the library, intent on imbibing enough wine to dull the ache and silence the whimpering of his wolf. Aimon pulled to an abrupt halt. Farren sat by the brazier. He had thought to be alone.

Unfolding himself from his chair, Farren refilled his goblet and filled a second for Aimon. “It looks as if you need this more than I tonight.” He thrust the goblet into Aimon’s hand.

Aimon raked his hand through his hair and threw himself into a chair across from Farren.

“Kathryn’s temper, much like my sister’s, always runs hot, but never for long. Give her time, lad.”

Aimon took a gulp of his wine, and another.

“You love her, do you not?”

Aimon stared at his goblet as he twirled it in his fingers. “Yes, yes I do.”

“And you plan to marry her?”

Aimon’s head snapped up. “I will not take Kathryn’s choices from her again by striking a bargain with you to marry your daughter.” Farren flinched at his words, and Aimon grimaced. “I did not mean—”

Farren waved a dismissive hand at him. “Do not concern yourself with my feelings, Aimon. I did indeed take my daughter’s choices from her, and it is a burden I must bear. Rightly so. But I am pleased to hear you will not make the same mistake I made.”

Aimon stared at the floor. No, he would not, but in doing so perhaps he would be the one to lose Kathryn, as Farren had once feared would happen to him.

“Kathryn came to me this morning, wanting to know if you had made any mention of marriage to me.”

Aimon’s heart skipped in his chest, and his wolf paused in its sulking.

“My daughter, I believe, has developed an attachment to you. If I know Kathryn, and I do, she does nothing by halves, so her feelings are most likely strong. Have you told her how you feel?”

“I told her she was my mate.” Aimon hung his head. “She did not seem overly excited by the prospect.”

Farren grunted. “But did you tell her you loved her?”

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