Page 16 of Wounded Mate
As I eat, my gaze travels the room from corner to corner. His lair is so colorful. Somehow even below ground and without windows, it’s homey under the warm golden glow of the lamps. Rich velvets strewn on a low lounge, silky clothes spilling out of a chest of drawers, thick burgundy carpet beneath my feet. So much nicer than the plain browns of my youth.
I shake myself. Don’t want to think of that. Memories of childhood bring sorrow into a place sorrow has no business being. Valius’s space is cheerful and light. It’s me that’s the odd one out.
A flutter of worry curls low in my stomach, upsetting the meal I’ve just inhaled. No way will a person like Valius, so beautiful and fine, settle for a freak like me. A werewolf who can’t properly shift. Who can never be seen in public. Who’s an outcast from every pack he’s ever encountered.
What was I thinking, calling him mate?
What if he’s revolted when he wakes?
He was kind to me, yes, but I was injured. Dying. And he’s not a monster, so of course he helped. That’s what kind people do. They help those in need. What will he think of me now that I’m on the mend?
As I’m panicking, a sweet little snuffle comes from the bed, and he stirs. He pats the space I left, finds nothing, then slowly rolls over.
My muscles tense enough to cause a pang in my side. His gaze lands on me like a physical thing, sparkling blue irises glowing with a fondness I don’t deserve. He smiles.
“Bela.” My name from his lips gives me chills. “You’re feeling better? You look better.”
So not disgusted with me. Not yet at least. “Much.”
He flings the blanket off, revealing the clothes he wore yesterday, now stained with my blood. He sits, stretches his arms high overhead, and yawns.
I’m utterly enamored with his every elegant movement. The fine bones of his wrists, the smooth skin peeking out from under his cuffs, the messy red hair I’d like to tuck behind his ears. He’s enchanting.
With no small amount of shame, I feel my cock stir between my legs, taking far too much interest in Valius. I cross my legs and ignore it. “Did I wake you?”
“I don’t think so.” He studies me. Does he know? He can’t know. My cheeks heat, threatening to give me away. “Are you really all right? I was so worried.”
I’m not hungry anymore, but I grab another piece of bread just to have something in my hands. Something else to look at. “Your Rizpah is a miracle worker.”
“That’s the truth.” He rises to his feet and stretches again. Is he trying to kill me?
I gesture to the tray. There’s plenty of food left. “Are you hungry?”
His stare intensifies. Not at the food. At me.
I swallow.
He licks his lips and, hips swaying, approaches. “Starving.”
Chapter Nine
Valius
Bela is offeringto share his food, but what I want—what I need—calls to me from between his muscled legs. He’s hard for me. I know because it’s in my very essence to know. My job, my life, my calling.
Sex. To give it, to take it, to feed from it.
And I want him.
But…he’s injured. Terribly so. And he’s under the impression we’re mates. I don’t know a whole lot about werewolves but I know enough to realize the importance of the nature of that bond. That bond between two people and only two people. He won’t want me once he knows what I am.
There are so many reasons I can’t feed from him. But Iwant. Iyearn. My body vibrates with longing for him.
Instead, I bite my tongue and sit across from him. “What did she bring us?”
“So many things, all of them delicious. I didn’t know what you like, so I made sure to leave some of everything.”
Indeed, piles of food are still available. “There’s plenty left. More than I can eat. If you’re still hungry, please help yourself to more.”
