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Suddenly, all my anxiety disappears in a flutter, and I dart forward to catch him before he collapses onto the hard ground.
“Are you okay?” I murmur and smooth my hand over his bloody head.
He grins up at me, and I wipe some of the lion’s blood off his face.
And I cannot help but grin right back.
Why do I feel this way?
The truth is, I have never seen anything as amazing as Kian asserting himself over the lion and killing it.
In that moment, Kian became a warrior.
Or was he always a warrior?
I think I am starting to see a picture of who Kian was before he lost his memories. The picture of who he was becomes clearer and clearer with every day that I spend with him.
I just wonder if he can see it, too. Or is he oblivious to his own actions, to his strength, agility, and bravery?
Maybe I should ask him?
But asking Kian whether he recognizes his past self in his present actions might be a dangerous thing to do.
It might halt the recovery of his memories completely.
Just then, Kian leans into me, still in my arms, and takes several long, deep breaths. As if he is inhaling my scent. The wolves snarling behind us are starting to quiet, and I can tell the fight is already ending.
My cheeks grow warm again, and I look down so that he cannot see how red my face is.
Why is he smelling me? Do I smell bad? Why do I care whether I smell bad?
I instinctively lean in to inhale Kian’s scent too. This is something that the wolves do quite a lot.
My skin tingles as I smell him. He smells amazing despite the blood and sweat and general grime that covers his body.
Calm down,I order myself as I pull away from Kian. He looks almost disappointed when I move away and clear my throat. I glance around to ensure the lions really are gone.
Calm down. Take a breath. Your heart is about to burst out of your chest.
I push Kian away then and step away from him because I need all the space I can get from him in this moment.
Is this heat? Am I really in heat? Like the female wolves?
My lack of experience with the opposite sex is glaring at this moment, as I try to figure out exactly what and how I am feeling.
I turn away from Kian then, and as I walk away from him, I do my best to bury the tumultuous emotions I am feeling.
I don’t need him to see how confused and flustered I am. Not when I don’t know why I feel this way.
I cannot help but feel very embarrassed as my heart continues to race.
And I don’t need Kian to see how embarrassed and confused I am! In this situation, I am supposed to have all the answers! He is the vulnerable one, after all.
I only turn back to Kian when I have taken several deep, calming breaths. He gets up and wipes the lion’s blood off his front section, and my eyes are drawn to his large hands, covered in blood.
I shudder slightly and then clear my throat.
“We need to leave soon,” I tell him as authoritatively as I can. “The blood is going to attract attention from other predators. It is best that we clear out so that we don’t get caught in any other traps.”
