Page 48 of Racing the Storm

He met my gaze—his eyes blazing, refusing to lower, refusing to submit. Just as it should have been with an Alpha who had so completely betrayed his mate. “And if I never let it go?”

“It won’t change anything. That night, I realized what you were to me. Our bond held on for so long.”

He let out a shuddering breath. “I remember.”

An eternity. Gods, it had lingered so long—feeling him, knowing he was there, knowing I’d hurt him. But I’d been such a fucking coward. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

At that, Danyal stood up, crossing his arms over his middle. It was a defensive position. It prevented me from closing the distance between us. There was still fire in his eyes though—fury and hurt and determination. “No, it wasn’t just that. You didn’t expect to come back alive. You didn’t want to.”

I wasn’t sure if he knew because there were so many other Wolves like me, or if I was just that transparent, but I had no defense against it. He knew the brutal, honest truth. “I gave it my all. I protected myself and the Wolves who served under me. But I also didn’t think it would be the worst idea in the world if I never came back.” He shuddered at my words, tense and almost furious, but I couldn’t let him re-write what my journey had been. “I had no one, Danyal. I had one Omega that I was too afraid to love because I already knew what it felt like to lose a mate—to lose everyone. My family was killed, my husband was dead, and I didn’t think you would be in the business of forgiving me.”

He looked at me a long while, but I couldn’t read his face. “I don’t know if you were wrong or right, Mikael.”

I bowed my head. “I know. But here we are. We both survived, and we have a lot more surviving to do.”

I didn’t look at him, but I heard him take in a breath before he spoke. “What’s different this time? Why are you here for me now?”

There was only one answer to this, and saying it was the easiest thing I had ever done. “Because I know that losing what I had isn’t nearly as bad as never having it at all.”

I expected Danyal to walk away, and when I heard him exit the cave, I didn’t stop him. We had days like this—surviving out here with just us, unable to draw attention to ourselves. And then, if I was right about my gut feeling, we’d be heading into Paris in an attempt to flee the country without being caught by Kasher’s men.

We also needed information, and if Kor wasn’t going to be in touch soon, we’d have to get it ourselves. We couldn’t get back home without knowing the landscape—or more likely the landmine—we were walking into. My desire for Danyal needed to take a backseat; I just wasn’t sure how to force it.

In spite of the fact that it was my fault we had been separated all of these years, having him this close now, having confessed all of my truths, it was impossible to let go.

I spent the day in my wolf form, lounging by the mouth of the cave. Danyal hadn’t gone far, and I could hear him pacing and muttering to himself. I was only able to process a few words here and there, and almost all of them were cursing me. I could live with it, though. I would live with it, if it meant he was still near enough to reach out and pull close.

Stretching out, I yawned loudly and let the late evening sun start to warm my fur just as Danyal’s footsteps started back toward the cave. I didn’t have it in me to move, but I looked up at him, ears perked up, when he came to a stop a few feet away.

“Mikael.” My name on his lips was too easy to understand. He stared a moment longer, then walked over and slid to the ground with his back to the stone wall. When I shuffled closer and let out a low, soft whine, he rolled his eyes, but his fingers curled in toward himself to beckon me over.

I knew he wouldn’t have allowed it in human form, but I also knew few Wolves could resist their mates like this. He proved me right when his fingers sank into my fur, and he gave me a delicious scratch behind my ears.

He started speaking after that, but I didn’t try and shift my brain to understand him. I just let the words wash over me, letting his tone speak. He was hurt, but he was grateful I was there. He was lost, but he felt brave because we were together.

I gently licked the pads of his fingers as I stared up at him and let his scent overwhelm me.

I loved him. Gods, I had always loved him. It was that rough, feral, instinct that would grow into something more complex as we let ourselves spend time together. But the foundation was there. It had been there the night he had come to me in heat, and in spite of the bond breaking, it had never gone.

“Come back.”

I knew those words, and every instinct told me not to. It would shatter the fragile moment where he felt okay touching me and keeping me close. But I couldn’t disobey him.

My limbs cracked and reformed, the pain rippling through me—barely noticeable anymore, but a little more profound right here. I stayed on my side, staring up at him, watching his gaze rake up and down my body for a long moment.

It almost felt like aphysical touch.

“I’m afraid,” he said after a while. “I never stopped wanting you, and I’m afraid what that’s going to mean after we get home.”

“I’m not going to make the same mistake again,” I began, but he shook his head, and the rest of my promise died.

“After you left me that morning,” he started, then swallowed thickly and repeated himself. “After you left me that morning, I never let anyone else touch me.”

It took me a long time to process what he was saying, but when it hit me, my entire body lit up like it was on fire. “You mean, no one else has ever…”

He shook his head. “No. You were my first, and so far, you are my last.”

“Not even in a heat?” It was a ridiculous thing to hope for. An Omega in heat without a partner meant agony. Long, horrific days of pain and want and need with no release. I’d only met one or two who had ever endured it, and they had refused to let it happen more than once. I felt almost panicked as I rose to my knees. “Danyal…”

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