Page 79 of Untamed

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Willa

It feels like days before I can feel him coming up the stairs. His tread is heavy, uncertain. I can feel him right through the restful doze I finally fell into.

"Qitsuk?" he murmurs, crouching down next to me. A steady, warm hand finds my hair and strokes my head through the cocoon of blankets. "My female, I'm sorry," he says.

This apology tastes likeash. I can smell thatotherfemale on him. I can hear the faint note of rough impatience under his tongue. He doesn't mean hissorry. It’s a new lesson for me. Father was cruel, but he didn’t waste his breath on ‘sorry’ either.

"Cat?" Mactiir leans closer, his warm breath washing over me.

"Why don't you let her sleep some more?" I hear the Pup snap at Mactiir. It sounds like he is across the room from us.

"Why is she in your bed, Sarj?" fury trembles in the air. My eyes spring open. Why does Mactiir think he can be angry? Pup is family, and he has shared his den with me. That other female is nothing, and Mactiir shares his strength with her. I'mangry; irate, vexed, galled, piqued, infuriated, wrathful... lots of things.

"Because she doesn't want your bed or your blanket, In. Who is that female? Those wolves? Why were you with them, taking care of them, when your mate is up here, alone and crying?" The Pup fires his words like arrows, meant to pierce skin and burrow deep.

"None of your business," Mactiir seethes. "It's a misunderstanding, that's all. I was not taking care of them!" he roars the last bit.

The Pup snorts. "Yeah, I'd believe you if the warrior princess wasn't in tears and Ezra didn't text me all the shit you did."

"WhatIdid?" Mactiir says in disbelief. "She was going to rip out the throat of a female that was already so weak she could barely stand!"

The Pup is quiet for a moment, then he sighs. "Look, In. You protected a bitch that no one knows. We are RustClaw, and those wolves aren't us. I get that they're messed up and shit, but you let your mate attack Elna and Auntie Glory without even flinching. Then you stop your mate from attacking this female, which I understand. But, then you comfort that other female and let your mate suffer from the betrayal."

"I never betrayed her!" comes the instantaneous, furious protest.

"Doesn't seem like kitty-cat believes it."

I like Pup. He's smart.

"What the fuck did you just call my female?" Mactiir's voice has dropped low, the guttural sound of his voice sending shivers down my spine. He rises to his feet, fury lining every inch of his body, trembling under his skin. I peek out from under the covers and watch, fascinated, as fur sprouts from his bare arms. Black claws curl from his fingers. Stupid Ogre.

Mactiir takes one step towards the much smaller, pre-shifted male, and I pounce on him. Mactiir flips me onto my back easily, onto the bed, his large body settling over mine. "Don't interfere, mate," he says through gritted teeth.

I growl, right in his face. That word again,mate. It is some sort of curse, with how he hurls that word at me.

"Stop it,Qitsuk," Mactiir rasps out. "You scent of my brother when you carry my Mark. When you're my mate."

"And you scent of another female," the Pup offers… helpfully if you ask me.

Mactiir freezes over top of me. A strange light enters his eyes. Walnut-eyes rove over my face, searching for something. Before I can wonder what he's looking for, he asks me softly, "are you jealous, my cat?"

Jealous; envious, covetous, grasping. Grasping?! I am not. Mactiir is mine, and I am possessive because he's mine... which is another word for jealous, but... I am notgrasping.

No.

I am notjealous.

I huff angrily in Mactiir's face. His answering smile is so sweet that I can taste sugar in my mouth. "Me too," he says softly. Then his lips meet mine. I sigh into his mouth, happily melding our lips and tongues in this now-familiar dance.

"That's my bed," Pup remarks with resignation.

Mactiir hauls me to my feet, mouth still hungry on mine. I enjoy the contact for another moment while my hands do their work.

The ringing of the bells makes Mactiir freeze. A tension, an awareness, rolls through us both. Slowly, he peels himself away from me and looks down at the golden chain of bells locked around his waist.

"Fucking hell," he mutters. Shocked, he runs his fingers over the chain. "Why am I surprised?"

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