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Riaz paced.
Claws tore up the dry earth, the gritty dust polluted the air around his wolf, clinging to his fur and coating it in sandy brown. The animal sneezed off the debris, growling at the interference.
Yet, even as the animal, his thoughts were torn.
Cortana’s rejection yesterday had painted a bleak picture of his future: one where he endlessly pined for a mate who cared nothing for him. Her icy disregard for his attempts at courtship, interspersed by brief and occasionally bittersweet periods of intimacy, had wounded him in a way he couldn’t fully comprehend.
His tragic past continually tarnished his present, and this was no different. Rejection of any kind only served to cinch the ever-present noose around his neck. His human family had seen to that.
Teeth bared, Riaz’s wolf shook his coat to rid himself of the harmful memories.
Forgive her, one voice said. She’s scared, that’s all.
Riaz knew the still-forming mating bond made for emotions volatile; he’d seen as much in himself. Without meaning to, he’d pressured her with his advances, and she lashed out.
Fear fisted in his chest, a shiver racing beneath the inner layer of his wolf’s fur and tearing at his control. Snarling, Riaz lifted his voice to the wilds of the Colorado night, resenting his need for solitude. Only feet away from the den, his angry aura had dissuaded any wolf from approaching him.
A whimper escaped him as he forced himself to be frank. Cortana had every right to leave—and he wouldn’t stop her. In the deepest, most jaded part of his soul, Riaz could admit the truth of it: he didn’t think he could take that kind of rejection.
Not again.
Riaz had to make things right. He had to apologize for pushing her, for continuing to reach toward her when she clearly needed space to figure out what this new connection meant. He could wait; he could be patient. He owed it to both of them.
Shifting, he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to relieve the tension that’d settled there. He retreated to his quarters to wash away the grime, ensuring that when he met his mate, he wouldn’t be covered in dust. Moments later, he was striding through the den, scenting the air for her.
His nose led him to her quarters, but when he knocked, no one answered. Dread spiked through him, and he opened the door to check her wellbeing.
Empty.
Riaz glanced around the room for any clues to her whereabouts. Neat piles of clothing were set out on the dresser, perfectly folded. Make up products, though Riaz doubted she needed any, were arranged in formation on the vanity.
The pristine bed covers held only a hint of two imprints at the foot of the bed.
Finding no answers, he turned to leave when his eye caught on a glint of white on the desk in the corner. Curiosity got the better of him, and he walked over for a closer look.
The varnish was worn along the decorative edges and chipped paint spiderwebbed over the delicate comb. Clearly, it was well loved. He picked it up gently, turning it over in his hand to see if he could identify the make or how old it was. Was it Cortana’s? She could certainly afford something newer and more effective.
Why did she use something—
“What are you doing?” The accusatory tone was hurled at him from the doorway. Turning, he caught sight of Cortana, her eyes wide with anger. “Don’t touch that!”
Fear and pain tinged every word, and he instantly felt like he’d been intruding. Which he was. Frowning, he placed the treasure back on the countertop, putting his hands up in a placating move.
“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to snoop.”
Sneering at him, she hastened toward the comb, grabbing it and placing almost reverently in the inner compartment of her handbag, like it was made of glass. Then, over her shoulder, she cast, “You have no right to go through my things, wolf.”
The man attempted to rein in the temper of the wolf who was bristling and defensive at her tone.
“Why are you even here?” She turned on him, fisting her hands on her hips. “Why are you in my quarters in my absence?”
“When I knocked you didn’t answer, and I thought—”
“So, you think that you can just barge in if I don’t answer? What if I was changing?”
“I—”
“And why did you think you have a right to touch my things, Riaz? You think you have some claim over everything in your den, people and possession alike?”
