Page 46 of Wind Rider

“You’re like a feather,” he lied. “And I could lie here all day and barely notice that you’re sitting on me and cutting off my breath.”

Bast coughed at him, and Danita punched his shoulder. “Feathers don’t cut off breathing. We’re delicate and light and ever so lovely.”

Antreas grinned. “Must be the eggs weighing me down.”

Danita returned his smile. “Definitelythe eggs.”

Bast sat beside them to groom herself and purr as Danita and Antreas laughed.

Somewhere in the middle of their laughter Antreas realized he had never been this happy in his life—that in this moment, with Danita sprawled on his lap and Bast curled beside him, he had never felt so fulfilled, so content.

And that’s when he made his mistake.

Antreas didn’t think—he acted. He shifted Danita’s slight weight and sat, putting his arms loosely around her so that she was snug on his lap. She turned to look at him, laughter still shining in her eyes, and Antreas kissed her.

Danita froze. She didn’t pull away. Not at first. At first she simply stopped moving—later Antreas realized she’d even stopped breathing. Then slowly, hesitantly, her lips softened under his and for the space ofa few breaths she melted into the kiss and her arms even found their way to his shoulders.

Antreas loved the taste and feel of her. She was sweetness and salt—and her body was warm and soft against him. Without even thinking about it, Antreas tightened his arms around her—and Danita changed instantly.

She shoved against his chest. Hard. “No, stop!” she cried, scrambling, crablike, off his lap until her back was pressed against the mound of debris she’d so recently fallen from. There she sat, her arms wrapped around her chest, staring at Antreas with big, glassy eyes.

Bast reacted first. She rushed to Danita, chirping sweetly to her and rubbing against the girl. Automatically, Danita buried her hands in the big feline’s fur, obviously trying to stop their trembling.

“Danita, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Antreas said. He stood and began to move toward her, but Danita cowered back against the debris pile and he halted, holding his hands out as if in surrender. “Danita.” He spoke more slowly this time as he crouched so that he didn’t tower over her. “Everything is okay. I would never, ever hurt you. You’re safe. I promise. Bast promises. Do you think she’d let anyone hurt you?”

“N-no,” Danita stuttered. Then she blinked, as if waking from a nightmare, and tears filled her eyes. “Antreas! I—I’m sorry. I’m so embarrassed.” She turned her face from him and buried it in Bast’s thick, soft coat, and began to sob.

“Hey, it really is okay. I understand,” Antreas said soothingly to her.

“No, it’s not okay.” Danita lifted her tear-tracked face to look at him. “I do know you wouldn’t hurt me, and I actually wanted to kiss you, but then everything changed and suddenly I was backthere,withthem—the men who raped me.”

“I know, I know.” Antreas felt lost. He wasn’t sure what to say—what to do—to help Danita, so instead he sat not far from her and decided to just be there. “It’s understandable that you had a flashback. I should’ve been more careful—I should’ve thought before I acted. This is my fault.”

“No! It’stheirs.Not yours. Not mine. But I have to live with what they did—what they have left me with—not you. I care about you and Bastso, so much, but I can’t ever be your mate.” She pressed her face into Bast’s fur again and sobbed.

The big feline looked at Antreas and coughed.

“Danita, may I come closer to you?” Antreas asked gently.

“Y-yes.” Danita’s voice was muffled by tears and fur.

Antreas slid forward. Bast was on Danita’s right side, so he positioned himself on her left.

“Would it be okay if I put my arm around you?”

She looked up at him, snot and tears mixing with Lynx fur and dirt from her fall. “Y-yes. I would like that.”

Antreas thought he’d never in his life seen anyone as beautiful as his Danita. He put his arm around her. She stiffened for a moment, and Antreas waited, not moving, not tightening or loosening his grip on her shoulders—he simply sat there until he felt her relax against him, and then finally she rested her head against him.

“I’m sorry that I’m broken,” she said.

“You’re not broken. They didn’t break you. They only changed you.”

“Changed me for the worse.”

“Don’t say that! You get to decide what the change means—not me—not even Bast—notanyonebut you.”

She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked up at him. “You and Bast should stop this.”