Page 4 of Crescent Warrior

He struggled to think of anyone when he stroked himself—anyone—else, but it never happened. Swallowing, he turned, giving her his back. The creak of the bed announced her joining him.

“Aren’t you going to take off your shirt?” she laughed, yanking at it.

He nodded, pulling it off, still facing away from her.

“Shove over,” she grumped, elbowing him in the side.

Turning to snap his teeth at her arm, she giggled, snapping right back.

My Lyta takes no guff.

He froze. Not his Lyta. Never his Lyta. She was just Lyta.

“Are you okay?” she asked, reaching up to press her hand to his forehead to feel for a fever. He shrugged her off, clearing his throat.

“Of course. Now get to sleep so I can get used to your snoring.”

“Says the bear to the swan,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at him.

“As usual, you’re right. Swans honk.” He was chuckling as she tackled him, straddling his lap to tickle his sides.

Within seconds, he was howling with laughter. As she stilled above him, biting her lip, he wondered what was wrong. After a few moments, realizing what she felt, his eyes widened. His treacherous cock was tenting his pants and now pressed intimately against her.

Dear Gods, no.

“Cole,” she murmured, her eyes searching his. “Is this… Do you feel it too?”

Her eyes were so hopeful he didn’t know what to say. Shaking his head, he lifted her off him, turning on his side to face the wall.

Please pretend that didn’t happen, Lyta. Please.

“Cole,” she whispered, reaching over to press her cool hand to his overheated back. “I feel it too. You don’t have to be ashamed.”

Confused, he turned to her. Her eyes were glazed with tears. Turning fully, grabbed her arms.

“What happened?” he asked, searching for where he might have hurt her.

“I thought I would have to wait,” she gasped, cupping his face, a tear spilling past her gorgeous green eyes. “Females mature earlier than males. I thought…but then you feel it too!”

Laughing now, she leaned forward to press her lips to his. He yanked himself away, watching her with horror.

“Lyta, what are you doing?”

“We’re mates,” she whispered, swiping away another tear. “I’ve known for years. I was willing to wait for you, but I don’t have to anymore. You feel it too.”

He was shaking his head, baffled. “No. We’re not.”

Her smile was faltering now, falling from her face.

“But you—you were—” she cut herself off, dropping her eyes to his lap.

He yanked her blanket over himself, shaking his head again, wildly. “That wasn’t for you,” he lied, trying to look anywhere but at her.

The silence that followed drew his eyes to her. She was staring at her clenched fists, her claws digging into her hands. Horrified, he pounced forward, grabbing them and prying them open.

“What are you doing?” he cried, seeing the leaking blood. “Why would you do this?”

“Who was it for?” she growled, pulling her hands away from him.

---