Page 31 of Primal Call

"Where are you going?"

Kyral glanced back at him, a spark of something unreadable in his eyes. "I'm going to the stream to wash."

He extended a hand toward Jasper, the gesture both simple and profound. "Come with me."

Jasper looked down at his own come-soaked thighs and felt a flush creep up his neck. Hesitating for only a moment, he reached out and took Kyral's hand.

Chapter thirteen

The alpine wilds were deadly — but beautiful.

Kyral led the way, each step bringing him deeper into the heart of the wilds. The place where, if all went well, he would finally be able to claim the treasure.

Jasper kept pace behind him, following in his tracks. Kyral kept him in his peripheral vision, unable to bring himself to look directly at him.

The human was deep in thought, his handsome face set in a faint frown of concentration as he navigated the thick underbrush. Kyral watched him, unable to stop himself.

Last night...

Kyral's mind drifted back to the previous night, when he had held Jasper close against the chill. The human had been trembling from a nightmare, his delicate frame wracked with fear. Without a second thought, Kyral had pulled him into the warmth and safety of his own bedroll.

He could still feel the ghost of Jasper's form pressed against his own, those slim hips slotting perfectly against Kyral's muscular body. Jasper had fit so right, like he was meant to be there. Kyral's nostrils flared at the memory of the heady scent of Jasper's arousal, pure temptation filling the air.

In that moment, Kyral's long-buried instincts had roared to life with an intensity he hadn't felt in years. The primal urge to claim, to mate, to make this human his own had been almost overpowering.

And then he'd awoken to a strange movement…

He hadn't expected Jasper's reaction to him.

He hadn't expected how strong his own would be to Jasper, either.

Kyral shook his head sharply, forcing the memories away before they could consume him. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted. Whatever had happened, had happened. Right now, that wasn't important.

Even if it had felt incredible.

Felt right.

No, he needed to focus. Kyral scowled at himself. Instead, he forced his mind to the future that awaited if he could only secure the treasure — a future free from want or pain.

He pictured the lands he would claim for himself, far from prying eyes. A place where he could finally lay down roots and build a new clan, one of his own making.

Maybe even this valley on the map, untouched and pristine, could be the perfect sanctuary. He could almost see it now: cozy dens built into the hillside, warmed by roaring fires. A community, bound not by blood but by choice. Purpose, belonging — the chance for any Borraq to find peace at last after wandering alone.

Kyral's grip tightened on his map as the vision took shape. All he had to do was locate the treasure, and that peace would be within reach. With the wealth at his command, nothing could stop him from carving out that haven with his own two hands...

Kyral's blood sang with yearning at the thought. To wake each dawn with purpose, to provide for his clan, to shape a new generation into unstoppable warriors...

It would be a life of honor, of dignity reclaimed after being cast out like a mongrel from his clan. This new start would be his redemption.

Kyral's steps faltered as an unsettling realization struck him. In all his visions of this idealized future, of the clan he would create… Jasper's face was absent.

Of course it was. Jasper was a human. To fold his presence into Kyral's dreams of a Borraq clan… It didn't make sense.

This was Vasz. It would never be a place for Jasper. He belonged in human territory, with his own kind.

Kyral risked a glance over his shoulder at the human trailing behind him. The thin alpine sunlight was catching in those captivating blue eyes as Jasper walked along, Zee trotting by his feet.

A strange hollowness opened up in Kyral's chest.

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