GAHRYE

The next morning was fascinating. Gahrye had never curled up with a female before, never allowed himself—or her that intimacy. But with Kalle it had been entirely natural to hold her until they both slept.

He'd woken, bleary eyed from lack of sleep and turned to find her watching him, smiling, waiting for him to wake, her scent washed in desire.

He'd taken her again. He'd been unable to resist.

Reality hadn't crashed in until they lay there together, their breaths easing, and the sun rising outside.

She'd groaned and covered her face, and for a moment he'd panicked.

"What is it?

" He rolled over to lean over her, pulling her hands away so he could see her, measure her. What had happened?

She let her hands fall, then pushed her lower lip out.

"I have to go to work today,

" she grumbled.

Gahrye had chuckled to cover the spear of disappointment that shot through him at the words. He'd been looking forward to cementing the bond, giving her his full attention as much as he could. But, Creator knew, he understood the need to fulfill responsibility. Even if it was fiercely inconvenient.

"That's nothing,

" he said, to reassure her.

"I thought something truly awful was happening.

"

"It is!

" she said, blushing.

"That means I have to leave this here while I go… look at books!

" She stroked her hand down his chest and their eyes met again.

He leaned down to kiss her gently.

"How soon do you have to go to work?

" he asked gently.

"Like, now. I mean, I need to get ready. Can I use your shower? Then all I have to do when I get home is change my clothes.

"

"Of course.

"

She kissed him and sighed again.

"I will find a way to get off early, I swear.

"

Gahrye pretended he wasn't at all bothered when she kissed him and graoned, then slipped out of the bed, walking naked to the bathing room and throwing him a grin over her shoulder before she stepped inside.

He lay there listening to her move, curse under her breath, turn on the shower and step inside.

His body twitched. He wanted to shove that door open, step into the shower with her, take her against the wall and convince her not to leave. But he knew he couldn't. The urge was strong enough to scare him, though.

If he felt so strongly that he didn't want to lose her for a few hours, when she would be only minutes away by one those hellish cars, what was he going to do when the day came that he had to leave and they were separated by the traverse?

He pushed the thought away and forced himself to focus. He needed to see if Elia was up and… well, he needed to check on her. Reluctantly he got out of bed and headed for the door—he'd almost opened it before he remembered he wasn't dressed and if she was up, Elia would be embarrassed. Since he would shower after Kalle had gone, he picked up his leathers from the floor where he'd tossed them, and put them on quickly. Then stepped out in the living room. But there was nothing. Elia's door remained closed, and nothing in the room had been moved.

He stood there a moment wondering what to do. But sitting on the bed, staring at the door until Kalle came out of it struck him as juvenile—and probably a little creepy. So he sat on the couch and stared at the door to the bedroom instead.

But sitting there, waiting for his mate to emerge sent his mind back to all the days and times he'd yearned for this day. How differently he'd assumed it would go. And how much stronger he'd always thought he would be. And even though Kalle appeared to love him as much as he loved her, he was terrified he would kill what lay between them somehow.

His life was marked by failure. First as an Anima when it was discovered that he couldn't shift. That was a shame he'd carried since his earliest memories—the look on the faces of the adults around him marked either by pity, or distrust. Or both.

Chased out by their disappointment, he'd moved out of his parents home as soon as he was old enough, but despite his best efforts, he'd been unable to support himself entirely through his work as a merchant. He'd remained reliant on the Tribe to help him survive.

When he reached out to Elia—hating to see the lost and confused look on her face because it reminded him of how he'd felt as a young colt when he hadn't understood why he was treated differently by his peers—he'd thought perhaps he'd finally found his place. She offered him a position of influence, as well as friendship. Then he'd touched her in front of Reth and he'd been terrified for weeks the King might remove him from the role.

When that hadn't happened, he'd started to relax again. He hadn't cared that many of the people didn't trust her, either. She'd become friends with his friends. The Outsiders embraced her, and she them.

But then Reth learned that he'd been sneaking her out and training her…

He suspected he'd never been closer to death than the day Reth pulled him aside privately and made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that he was never to remove Elia from the watch of her guards again.

And he hadn't. But he'd known the King would never really trust him again.

Which was why this post meant so much to him—and why he was so frightened to fail again. And yet, it seemed inevitable. He couldn't get word to the Anima. Elia was shifting and he had no way to help her. He was one of the few Anima who could give her no meaningful help. And she still didn't know how to come back.

Her pregnancy was progressing faster than they'd expected, but as long as the war raged they couldn't return.

He felt sick when he considered what would happen if she got stuck in beast form.

Now he had a mate—a mate he was desperate to be with and who seemed to want him just as desperately. But he couldn't tell Elia, because if he did, she'd try to make space and time for him to be with her. She'd do to him exactly what she did to Reth and hide things from him just to stop him worrying.

And to top it all off, the answer to all these issues—getting Elia safely back to the Anima—was the one thing that would separate them.

That scared him most of all.

He dropped his head in his hands, his mind spinning, his gut twisting with fear.