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“Okay.” I have taken many things I wanted in my life—mostly from trees and animals. I’ve raided squirrel nests for nuts in winter, winser ground nests for sweet maggots, and bird nests for eggs. I stripped trees of all their fruit, chased away wolves from their kill to cut out the best meat. I understand wanting and taking, even if it’s not fair.
Stealing, Kia. Robbing. Call it by its name, now that the words are coming back to you.
Fine.
Still… “Is it because you’re cold? Are you cold?”
“No, I’m warm and toasty,” she whispers, turning her head to smile at me.
So it’s not that. Puzzled, I curl more tightly around her. Maybe she is cold and won’t tell me. I mostly avoid complaining, too, in case they…
In case they leave me.
Dammit.
But she sighs and relaxes against me, snuggling back and letting out a quiet breath, clutching the little cushion to her middle.
Maybe it hurts, still. Maybe the cushion-thing helps. I barely understand people, let alone girls, and even less a pretty omega who against all odds has proven to be my fated mate.
I understand none of it, but I sure like it. What man in his right mind wouldn’t? You don’t have to be starved for touch and affection like me to appreciate it, and if you don’t… then what can I say? There are always some fucking idiots in this world who don’t appreciate anything.
Like I didn’t… didn’t appreciate what I had so long ago, when…
My lids are damn heavy, my thoughts spiraling, washed away by a river, a river washing through me…
“Appreciate… Appreciate the teachings, Kiaran.”
I’m dreaming, floating through bright halls, green trees rustling outside, birds chirping.
“What did philosopher Adrie say?”
“Many things.”
“Don’t be a brat. Don’t be disrespectful. Recite stanza twelve.”
“‘What I do is a reflection of who I am at any given time. How I react to violence is a mirror of my heart.’”
“‘What I give…’”
“‘What I give is reflected in others and returns to me.’”
“Returns to me…” The halls dissolve into white mist and the birds fly away as I walk outside and into a garden with a fountain in its middle and a statue of a king holding up a sword, pointing to the sky.
“Home…”
26
ARIADNE
I wake up in degrees to the electrifying sensation of a mouth sucking on my neck, very close to the scent gland. It sends streaks of pleasure down my spine, through my body until it pools in my belly, making me clench.
Oh…
Taj. His scent is unmistakable, smokey and hot, and when he bites lightly, I shudder.
“I want to mark you,” he growls against my skin. “Mark you as mine. And be marked by you.”
I moan, helplessly. It’s the first time any of my fated mates speaks of commitment and it’s sexy. It also makes my eyes sting with tears born of relief and happiness.
