Page 20 of Owning His Mate

I’ve never cared about protecting anyone before, but she has me on tenterhooks every moment that passes without me by her side.

As I enter the main hall, as usual, Apryle’s scent fills my nose, and my gaze snaps around the room, searching for her. I expect to see her sitting at one of the tables with her coven, or even with the males from her group, but she’s with Callum, Beck, and a few of the others, including Archie and Ayden, on the far side of the room.

She’s wearing dark combat pants and a high-necked, long-sleeved shirt that clings to every inch of her body in a tantalizing way. I’m not sure if she knows how tempting she is, and I know I shouldn’t look, but my gaze is drawn to the gentle slopes of her breasts.

Fuck me.My cock twitches in my pants—until I notice she’s strapping knives to her body.

It takes my mind a moment to understand what is happening. The bags, the weapons, the fact that everyone is dressed in black—Callum is preparing to send a party out and Apryle is going with them.

Over. My. Dead. Body.

Fear erupts inside me, turning into anger. My nostrils flare as I curse her out in my mind. My little mate is capable, but purposely putting herself in danger scares the crap out of me. She won’t be careful, and no one else will have her back the same way I would.

I charge across the room, trying not to unleash the fury folding through me as I come to stand at Apryle’s side. I can tell she knows I’m there. She can definitely sense my emotional state too. I don’t know how to stop that from coming through our bond.

Her shoulders stiffen, and she refuses to acknowledge me as she secures a wicked-looking Bowie knife to the sheath at her waist. Despite her irritation through our bond, she unconsciously drifts toward me, soothing my wolf whether she realizes she’s doing it or not.

“I was just going to send someone to find you,” Callum says, clearly not sensing the danger emanating from me. “I got word of a group of hunters patrolling a town near here. You up for taking them down?”

Normally, it wouldn’t even be a question. I have never feared my mortality and the possibility that one of these missions could end my life, but then I never had a mate before.

Apryle, who was so easily overpowered by Beck, wants to go out and fight hunters, trained soldiers who will kill her if she’s lucky. If she’s not, they’ll capture her and use her to breed their little army.

Not. Happening.

I ignore Callum, looming over Apryle as I wait for her to look at me. When she doesn’t, I grab her wrist, ignoring her squeal of protest as I pull her away from the group.

She tries to fight me, putting all her weight into her attempt to twist free, but when she can’t, it just proves that she is not safe out there without me.

As soon as we are a distance away from the group, I let her go, and she shoves me hard in the chest, anger rippling across her face.

“What is wrong with you?”

I know I should be focused on defusing the situation, but instead, I get lost in trailing my gaze over the soft slope of her nose and the fullness of her mouth. There is a slight smattering of freckles on her cheeks that I didn’t notice the last time we were together.

“Are you even listening to me, Kyson?”

I like her smart and sassy mouth. I wonder what it would taste like. Images of pushing her onto the ground and burying my dick into her tight heat fight against thoughts of parting her creamy thighs and licking every inch of her sweet cunt.

Her cheeks flush and I grin as her lips part so she can pant a little. I affect her, despite her denials.

“Stop thinking like that.” She folds her arms over her chest.

“I can’t. You’re mine, Apryle. My wolf, my body—both want to claim you.”

That heat on her face spreads through her thoughts, and I’m relieved my feelings are not one-sided. “I’m not an object, Kye.”

“I don’t see you as one, but you are my mate—just as I am yours. I know you don’t really want to fight this, so why are you?”

Her mouth opens, then closes again, words failing her. “Don’t analyze me.”

I reach out, brushing a shorter piece of her hair that hasn’t been secured in her tie from her face. In a second, I find that Bowie knife pressed against my throat.

Having a sharp object against a vital part of my body should worry me, but I’m more impressed by her speed.

“If you pull a weapon, you should be prepared to use it,” I tell her.

Her teeth grind together. “What makes you think I’m not?”

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