Page 30 of Whisker me Away
"Which means we're running out of time," Kieran said grimly. "How long before it stops targeting your magic and goes straight for you again?"
"I don't know." Freya's voice was barely a whisper. "But at this rate, maybe days."
After helping Twyla document the damage for insurance purposes, Kieran walked Freya back to her shop in tense silence. The weight of their situation pressed down on him like a physical force, made worse by the knowledge that other council members were starting to question his involvement.
"I need to check in with the council," he said when they reached Bloom & Blossom. "Update them on last night's attack and what happened this morning."
"I'll be fine here. The shop's wards are still holding."
"For now." Kieran caught her hand before she could escape inside, his thumb tracing over her pulse point. "But Freya, if anything feels wrong, anything at all, you call me immediately."
"I will."
He wanted to kiss her goodbye, wanted to mark her with his scent so everything in Hollow Oak would know she belonged to him. Instead, he forced himself to let go and head toward The Silver Fang Tavern, where Maeve would be preparing for the lunch crowd.
He found her polishing glasses behind the bar, her sharp eyes taking in his obvious exhaustion with knowing amusement.
"Rough night playing bodyguard?" she asked without preamble.
"You could say that." Kieran slumped onto a barstool and gestured for his usual as he sent a message to Varric for a meeting. "The corruption attacked Freya directly last night. At the restaurant with Rowan."
"I heard." Maeve poured bourbon and slid it across the polished wood. "Also heard you showed up just in time to play hero. Funny how you always seem to be in the right place when she needs saving."
"It's called doing my job."
"Is it?" Maeve's grin was predatory. "Because word around the council is that you're getting a little too personally invested in this investigation. Some of the guards are wondering if you can still be objective."
Kieran's tiger snarled at the implied criticism. "My objectivity isn't the problem. The problem is an ancient evil trying to kill a member of our community."
"A specific member of our community. One who happens to be beautiful, powerful, and currently single thanks to your interference." Maeve leaned against the bar, her expression serious despite her teasing tone. "Kieran, I've known you since you were a scrawny teenager with more attitude than sense. I've never seen you like this about anyone."
"Like what?"
"Territorial. Possessive. Like you'd burn down half of Hollow Oak to keep her safe." Maeve's dark eyes held knowing sympathy. "She's your mate, isn't she?"
The direct question hung in the air between them. Kieran stared into his bourbon, feeling the weight of truth settle in his chest like certainty.
"Yeah," he said finally. "She is."
"And does she know?"
"She knows something's happening between us. But she's still hung up on guilt over Rowan, still fighting what she feels."
"While an ancient evil specifically targets her and time runs out." Maeve shook her head. "You always did like doing things the hard way."
"I want her to choose me freely. Not because supernatural destiny demands it."
"Noble and stupid." Maeve's voice carried the blunt affection that made her such an effective council guard. "Here's the thing about mates. Fate gives you the connection, but you still have to fight for it. And right now, you're letting fear keep you from claiming what's yours."
"It's not that simple."
"It is that simple." Maeve moved closer, her lioness intensity making her words hit like blows. "That woman is being hunted by something that wants to destroy her. She needs a mate's protection, a mate's strength, a mate's absolute commitment to her survival. And you're sitting here worried about her feelings getting hurt?"
"I'm worried about forcing her into something she doesn't want."
"What she wants is to live through this." Maeve's expression softened slightly. "And what she needs is a man who'll fight for her instead of waiting for permission. So here's my advice, straight and simple: claim your mate or lose her. Because ifthat Thornweaver thing kills her while you're being noble, you'll never forgive yourself."
Maeve was right. Freya was in mortal danger, and he was holding back because of pride and fear and a misguided sense of chivalry. The mate bond existed for a reason, gave him strength and instincts specifically designed to protect what belonged to him.
