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I flinch away, but he catches my hands in response.
“You’re terrified. Is someone trying to hurt you?” Anger flares in his dark eyes. “I’ll rip them to shreds. I’ll…” His words trail off as if he forgot why he so viciously wants to protect me.
Or why he’s even here.
I’m not sure what impact a memory-altering potion is going to have on someone who just met their fated mate, but it seems this male is struggling with it.
He shakes his head as if to clear it but doesn’t release me, leaving my knuckles crunching under his iron grip.
My heart thunders in my chest as I debate what the hell I’m going to do.
Why does he feel like dark magic?
Why does he feel like Daithi?
While I’ve fantasized about finding a true fated mate of my own, this isn’t at all how I imagined it going.
I have no idea who this man is, other than that he showed up at my cottage, unannounced, when Dominique had been beating down my door.
Dominique…
He definitely should have been back by now.
I shove into my fated mate, forcing him to give way. He gives me space, but he’s not letting me out of his sight. He follows me as I hurry around the cottage.
Normally, this would be the best part of my day.
Or my night, as it were.
The forest comes alive in the dark and it’s my favorite time to explore. That’s when the animals venture out, when the dusk flowers bloom, and when I can forget who I am, just for a little while.
Except now, my carefully tended garden is trampled and has a body on top of it.
My nails bite into my skin as I clench my fists.
Really?!
So, my fated mate is a mercenary for hire, somehow connected to Daithi O’Neely, and Dominique had clearly pissed someone off.
Or I was the target before I took the mercenary off guard. Meaning Dominique was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Do you realize you have a dead bear shifter in your garden?” the male behind me unhelpfully provides.
I didn’t realize Dominique was a bear shifter. That explains his burly appearance. But it’s useless information, otherwise.
Except to suggest that my fated mate is a terrifying force. One that can kill a bear shifter without breaking a sweat.
Whirling on the mercenary, I glower my best death glare—which is pretty damn good—while I decide what in the spirits I’m going to do with this male.
While he smells like Daithi, he so far hasn’t presented further threat.
Likely because of the potion I doused him with.
Depending on what kind of supernatural he is, the memory-altering potion could wear off rather quickly. Especially if he has rapid healing powers.
I really hope you’re not a vampire,I think as I grab him by the wrist and drag him back toward the cottage.
The impact of his skin on mine should be intoxicating, and it is, but I can feel the repulsive magic that ruined my family’s lives lingering underneath.
