Page 8 of Exiled Mate

It only makes me hungrier. Our lips battle as I sit up, leaning forward to wrap my arms around him.

In the dream, I’m naked. I feel my breasts press against his chest, and the points of contact between us sizzle with heat that makes my core feel aching and empty. If I slide one of my hands down his chest, will I find him hard and ready?

Rylan pulls back. “Terra. We can’t,” he whispers.

This is a stupid thing to dream about. I lean forward, trying to kiss him again, but his big hands gently pull on my shoulders and move me back.

This dream sucks. I frown. “What?”

“We can’t. We shouldn’t. You’re hurt.”

“I’m not…” I freeze. I blink. “What do you mean, I’m hurt?”

“The wolf knocked you into a boulder. I’m worried that you might have a concussion,” Rylan says, pulling the sheets up so that I’m not sitting completely naked in front of him. “Is it okay if I check your head?”

On the word ‘concussion,’ everything comes rushing back.

I was out for a run. I followed a strange scent. It was two of the beta’s close friends, guys who are pretty tight with Zander, which is the only reason that I recognized the scent. I don’t know their names, but I do remember that they smelled like Zander.

I remember running. Coming around a very large boulder, one several stories tall. The two wolves in front of me wanted to fight. Then, a huge wolf with midnight-black fur charged out of nowhere at them.

I lean back, taking the sheets with me. They fall away from Rylan, which makes me realize that he’s butt naked in my bed.

In my apartment.

I never dream of Rylan here. I always dream of him in his little cabin that was at the edge of the pack lands, not too far from my mom, where he lived for a while before he….

I can’t help the hiss of breath that I suck in. “This is a dream.”

“If you think that, I really need to check your head…” He reaches forward.

I growl at him, my wolf rising to the surface. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“I think it’s a little late for that, and I just want to make sure.”

“Do. Not. Touch. Me,” I spit.

Rylan sits back. “Terra…”

“You’re dead.”

The words hang in the air between us. It’s an accusation. It’s a statement.

It’s a plea for him to answer.

Rylan sighs. I can see every single individual strand of muscle in his pecs as they move with the motion.

“You’re dead. They told me you were missing. Presumed dead,” I say again.

Inside, I’m begging.

Please let this be a dream. Please don’t let this be real.

Because if this is real, if I really just kissed Rylan James…

He sighs again, and it looks like he’s doing his best to keep his shit together.

“Is that what they told you?”

---