Page 18 of Wounded Mate
“You’re injured.”
“It’s feeling better.”
“You think I’m your mate.”
“You are.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m not sure I can explain it. I just know. It’s your presence, your aura, your scent, your—” His gaze wanders over me from head to toe, leaving me feeling frumpy in my ill-fitted wool pants, old linen shirt, and oh god, my hair! It must look a mess. But his expression says he likes what he sees. “—everything. You’re perfect. My soul aches to learn yours. Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?”
My cheeks heat. I run my fingers through my hair in a vain attempt to tame it without a brush or my oils. “Not uncomfortable, not really, more like…” Unworthy? That’s not quite it either, but it’s closer. “Unprepared? Ill-equipped? I’m not sure. But—” I can’t deny I feel drawn to him as well. As if I’m a raindrop, and he is the sea. I’m destined to end up there eventually. “Well, could you let your mate feed from another?”
He balks, distaste on his face, but he’s shaking it off before it can take hold. “You’re an incubus. I’d never deny you your nature.”
I’m slow to respond. That’s not the reaction I was anticipating. He hasn’t had enough time to think everything through, but I’m grateful for how open he is. How willing. What an interesting man, my Bela.
I want to know more. I feel safe enough to admit, “My soul aches to learn yours as well.”
A smile brightens his face, tentative but genuine. “There’s nothing I won’t share with you.”
So many questions flit through my mind, most of them saucy, but I force myself to stay serious. There’s so much I need to know. “Start by telling me what happened last night. Where were you coming from and going to? Why were you attacked?”
He takes a deep breath. “I’ve been a wanderer nearly all my life since I was cursed in my youth. No pack will have a wolf like me, so I’m forced to roam. I was living farther north, deep in the forest of Hapsburg lands, when I heard a rumor of another wolf like me. A mongrel, without a true human form. I had only a few friends but counted a tree nymph, Burl, among them. Burl is involved in a messenger network and often knows things others don’t. When he told me about the mongrel, I knew it must be true, and I had to find him.”
“Andras.” Everyone at The Twig is familiar with his story.
“That’s the name Leonas said. You know him too?”
“He’s passed through here twice before. I didn’t meet him, but the others did. Nice fellow. Well liked. Vampire for a beau. They live southeast of here in Varad.”
“I’ve been searching for them. I thought perhaps they’d accept me. Perhaps I could be a member of a pack after all? I knew it was dangerous to traverse other wolves’ territory to get there, but I had no choice if I didn’t want to be lonely for the rest of my life.”
“Wait, you mean they attacked you merely for passing through?”
He gives a solemn nod. “Such is within their rights to do.”
What an utter crock of cow dung. “Not if I have anything to say about it. What kind of horrible monsters attack an innocent person just trying to move on?” My nape heats as my angerbuilds. The urge to find their village and burn it to cinders ignites like wildfire inside me.
But Bela is shaking his head. “It’s over now. I’d rather everyone forget. Not every pack is so violent. Most just tell me to leave and never return.”
I’m fuming, but for Bela’s sake, I hold back. He reaches a hand toward me, open, palm up. An offering. I take it and clutch it in mine. He traces circles on my wrist with the pad of his thumb.
I struggle to let go of the anger. But if Bela isn’t out for revenge, neither should I be. And his touch sends a delightful little shiver racing up my arm.
His stare turns intense as if boring a tunnel straight to my core. His voice drops an octave when he says, “I want to feed you.”
I suck my lower lip between my teeth and bite down. I want that too. Can I truly have such a gift? Can things between us be this easy? It seems too good to be true. Then I remember. “Erm, you haven’t really seen me yet.”
Something about what I’ve said seems to make him more self-conscious. He tucks the blanket he’s wrapped around his torso tighter and curls in on himself. “You’ve seen all of me. And you never shied away. Everyone recoils from me but you.”
My heart breaks for him. He’s so lovely with his shining golden eyes, rich brown hair and fur, and his muscular body, so strong as to overcome such a vicious wound and live to tell the tale.
He’s magnificent.
It’s a crime he feels as though he isn’t. “I like the way you look.”
“You do?”
