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She grabbed his jaw and locked gazes with him. As the orange of his wolf bled into his iris, she held her ground.
“Look at me, Riaz—I’m not playing games or lying,” she challenged. “Right now, I can feel how weary you are. I can feel the darkness that you’re fighting. Being among your pack is important—even I know that—and you need rest. You can’t do that if we’re in someone else’s home.”
A soft shake of her head. “I can feel how much you’re struggling right now. Our mating bond tells me that much. You bore the brunt of that rescue, going into a building that was literally on fire for people you don’t even know. And then you went back in for my comb.”
“It seemed important to you,” was all he could say.
Gripping it tightly in her palm, the prongs dug into her flesh as her lips wavered. “Thank you, truly, but I would never value this over your life.” She sniffed. “You’re my mate, Riaz, I know that now. My head just needed to catch up to my heart.”
Releasing him, she squared her shoulders. “Now, let’s go. It’s way too late in the day for me to be awake, and I’m sure you’d like to sleep off some of that sunlight.”
Though he cast her a leery expression, Riaz led them back to his quarters. They passed several of his pack on the way, every one of them running a hand over his shoulders or arms in gentle comradery.
Arriving at his quarters, Riaz immediately stripped off his shirt, hating the dampness of sweat and the stench of ash. Without glancing at Cortana, he strode into the bedroom to grab her a large white T-shirt. Upon returning, he held it out to her.
“To sleep in.”
Her fingers brushed over his as she took it, and he tried not to notice the shot of electricity that pinged up his arm and straightened his spine. Or the hungry look that briefly crossed her eyes before he turned away, offering her privacy as she shrugged out of her top and into his.
And he desperately tried not to notice when her breathing—and his—grew more labored when she stepped out of her pants.
“I’m decent.”
Her soft voice prompted him to turn around, taking in the sight of her smaller frame drowning in his shirt. Suddenly shy, she tugged at the hemline where it fell to her mid-thigh. Swallowing, he glanced at the bathroom, debating how effective a cold shower would be against his building desire.
“Sleep?”
His eyes jumped up to her face, a sheepish look briefly crossing his features as if he were a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Blinking a few times to process what she was saying, he nodded.
Clearing his throat, he motioned to his bedroom. “You want the bed?”
“No.” She inclined her chin. “I want you.”
Hearing was a fickle sense. One moment, Riaz would hear everything from the scratch of a pen to the distant howl of a wolf, and the next, it completely failed him. Shaking his head to clear whatever had muffled his ears, he muttered, “Come again?”
“I want you, Riaz,” came her words once more, his dream spoken into reality.
Eyes closed, he willed himself to calm. This was surely a game to her, like when they’d chased each other in the woods, and he wouldn’t allow himself to fall prey to her pretty little trap.
“Cortana, stop. As you’ve stated time and time again, there is no ‘us’, and I’d appreciate it if you’d do me the solid of not mixing signals. I’m tired. I don’t want you filling my head with what you think I need to hear, only for it to be taken away again later. I can’t bear it, Pet.”
“Don’t trivialize my emotions,” she snapped. “I know what I want and what I want is you.”
He fought the urge to sneer. “You’re only saying this because I saved your packmates. These words mean nothing to me when spoken out of ill-placed gratitude.”
“This isn’t gratitude,” Cortana charged, fisting her hands on her hips. “I’m finally admitting what I actually feel—what I’ve been feeling all along. I just needed a bit of time to catch up.”
“I don’t need your pity.”
“Is that what you’re feeling through our bond? Pity and gratitude are what you’re getting from me?”
Riaz hesitated. Needing to get away from Cortana by any means necessary, he’d done his best to block out what little emotion had crossed through the bond, except when he was too weak, and her presence had come bright and clear and pulled him from rabidity. Sighing, he dove into his own mind to strum an intangible finger along their unfinished mating bond. She had a point. Gratitude was there, yes, but that wasn’t the presiding emotion.
No, the presiding emotion was passion.
It knocked him off his feet.
Clutching at his chest as though he expected his heart to leap through his ribs, Riaz shuddered. “Don’t do this to me, Cortana. If you tell me you want me and then leave, I’ll never survive it. Not again.”
