Page 54 of Feral Fates
“This is real,” she murmurs, her words barely audible. “All my life I thought...” She pauses, her fingers tracing a particularly deep scar across my ribs. “I was seven when my gift first manifested. I saw death coming for our hunters, warned them. After that, I was just a tool. My father wouldn’t even look me in the eyes. Just ordered me to ‘see’ whenever he wanted.”
I stay silent, listening as she opens up.
“I’ve never had anyone touch me the way you do,” she confesses, her voice small. “My mother used to flinch when I’d reach for her.”
Rage flickers at the thought of a child reaching for comfort and finding only rejection.
Kitara’s fingers find another scar, this one jagged across my shoulder. “What caused this?”
I allow her a retreat. “Fae hunters. I was twelve. My mother and I were separated. They caught me, used silver to keep me from shifting.” The memory still burns. “When she found me, she and the other wolves tore them apart.”
She presses her lips to the scar, a benediction I don’t deserve. “I feel silly telling you about my issues when I have no scars.”
I roll us until she’s under me. “Just because my scars bled on the outside doesn’t mean yours cut any less deep.”
Her hands come up to frame my face. “I don’t understand you at all, Ryker Ashmere.”
I press my forehead to hers. “All you need to know is thatour bond cannot be broken, Kitara.” I brush my thumb over the mark that decorates her neck.
We stay there, breathing each other in. I trace lazy patterns on her skin. There’s a peace in this moment I’ve rarely known—a quieting of the constant vigilance that leadership demands.
“What happens now?” she asks, her head pillowed on my chest.
Dropping a kiss to her collarbone, I begin to move down her body. “Now, I need to taste you again.” I rub my cheeks across her breasts. “And you get to lay back and enjoy.”
She giggles, the sound a delicious rasp. “I might be able to do that.”
Chapter
Sixteen
Iwake to fire beneath my skin.
Every inch of me burns, a fever with no source, a thirst with no remedy. The furs feel like sandpaper against my hypersensitive skin. I kick them away, gasping as cool air hits my overheated body.
“What’s happening to me?”
My wolf stirs, restless and hungry in a way I’ve never experienced.Mate, she whines.Need mate.
The claiming mark on my throat pulses in time with my racing heart. Each throb sends waves of heat cascading through my body, pooling low in my belly and between my thighs. I press my legs together, seeking relief that doesn’t come.
Instead, the pressure only intensifies the ache.
I’ve heard whispers about this—wolves in my old pack discussing heats in hushed tones. But I never imagined I would experience one. How could I? I can’t shift.
Yet here I am, burning from the inside out.
Burning for Ryker.
His name forms in my mind and my body responds instantly, a fresh wave of desire making me arch against theempty bed. Through our bond, I sense him—distant but approaching, his presence growing stronger with each passing moment.
He knows.
The door to our chambers opens, and Ryker steps inside. Even in the dim light, I can see his eyes glowing—one amber, one crimson—fixed on me with an intensity that should terrify me but only makes the ache worse.
“Kitara.” My name in his voice is a physical caress.
I bite my lip to hold back a moan. “Something’s wrong with me.”
