Page 17 of Exiled Mate

I start to leave the tent, but I turn. “Do you have somewhere to sleep?”

He shrugs. “I sleep wherever. As a wolf, it doesn’t really matter.”

I blink. “Aren’t you turning thirty soon?”

“In a month.”

“And you are just… sleeping as a wolf until then?”

He shrugs.

My mind races. “Isn’t it getting hard to shift?”

“Yeah, but it’s not impossible yet.”

“Rylan…”

He steps forward. “Terra. I’m not asking for your sympathy. I know what I’ve done.”

“It sounds like you didn’t do anything,” I whisper.

His big body takes up so much space inside the tent. The heat from his chest is radiating out at me, and I…

My thoughts are cut off by Rylan’s voice. “I should have said goodbye.”

“What?”

He leans in closer. His eyes search my face. “I should have said goodbye, Terra. I should have walked out of the meeting with the alpha and gone to you and told you that I had to go, but that it had nothing to do with you. I should have told you that you were, and are, the best thing that ever happened to me. I should have told you that I love you, and I will always love you. That’s what I did wrong. I left you and I hurt you because of it, and I’m so fucking sorry.”

His voice is hoarse. It sounds like he’s fighting for control.

It sounds like he means it.

But there’s one word in all of that that’s ringing in me like a bell. I look up at Rylan, my own emotions clawing at me.

“You love me?”

He nods. “Every day, Terra. I loved you then, and I love you now, and I’ll love you…”

Screw it. If he’s never going to come back, then this is closure.

And I want to have Rylan one last time.

I throw my hands around his shoulders and awkwardly mash my lips into his. Rylan pulls back slightly and looks down at me with confusion wrinkling his eyebrow. “Terra…”

“Don’t ask,” I whisper. “Please, just… I need you.”

He hesitates. I lean forward, cupping the smooth line of his jaw with my hand, and I gently press my lips to his.

“Terra…”

“Just this time. This last time,” I murmur.

I can tell he’s not too fond of the idea, but when I trace a scar that crosses over his lips, his eyes shut.

He shudders.

“Please,” I beg.

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