Page 35 of His Mate

Rowan stepped into the water, cradling me against his chest as he waded deeper, the warmth enveloping us, easing the tension from my muscles, soothing the bruises and cuts that marred my skin. I clung to him, burying my face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of him and letting it wrap around me like a blanket.

He carried me to a smooth, flat rock that jutted out from the water, and sat down, pulling me into his lap, his arms wrapping around me, holding me close. The water lapped at our bodies, warm and gentle, and I felt my eyes drift shut, the exhaustion, the fear, the pain all slipping away as I leaned into him.

Rowan’s hands moved over me, brushing my hair back from my face, tracing the curve of my shoulder, his touch soft and reverent, like he was afraid I might vanish if he let go.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead, then my cheek, his lips trailing down to the corner of my mouth.

I felt the heat bloom in my chest, spreading through me, and I tilted my head back, capturing his lips with mine. This time, the kiss was slower, deeper, as if we were pouring every fear and hope and longing into that single moment. I felt his fingers tangle in my hair, felt the warmth of his breath against my skin, and I knew—deep down, in the very core of my being—that I was his, just as much as he was mine.

“Let’s get you clean now,” he murmured, his voice soft, coaxing, and I felt myself nod, felt the last of my resistance melt away.

Gently, he reached for a small piece of cloth he’d brought to the water’s edge and dipped it into the hot spring, letting it soak before wringing it out. He started at my shoulders, wiping away the grime and dirt that had collected there, his movements slowand deliberate, almost reverent. I shivered at the sensation, my skin prickling with awareness as he worked, every stroke of the cloth leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

He moved down my arms, tracing the length of them with that same careful touch, and I watched as the dirt and blood were washed away, revealing the bruises and scrapes beneath.

“I’m sorry you were hurt,” he said quietly, his eyes flickering with something dark, something that made my chest tighten. “If I could’ve stopped them sooner, I would have.”

“You did more than anyone else ever would,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “You saved me.”

His eyes softened, and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the inside of my wrist, right over the pulse that fluttered beneath my skin.

“I’ll always save you,” he promised, and I felt my heart skip a beat.

He continued, moving the cloth over my collarbone, across the curve of my neck, and I tilted my head back, letting him take his time. His fingers brushed over my skin, and I felt my breath hitch, felt a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the hot spring.

He dipped the cloth into the water again, letting it soak before running it over my back, my shoulders, his touch unhurried, gentle, as if he were savoring every moment. I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the sensation, letting myself believe that, for just this moment, I was safe.

I’d worry about the rest of my world another day.

Rowan shifted, guiding me to turn around so that I faced him, and I couldn’t help the way my breath caught as his eyes roamed over me, dark and intense, as if he were trying to memorize every detail. He lifted the cloth, moving it down my breasts, over my ribs, his movements slow and deliberate, and I felt my skin flush beneath his gaze.

When he finally finished and looked up at me with those dark, intense eyes, I felt a smile tug at the corners of my lips, felt the warmth that had been building inside me bloom into something I couldn’t quite name.

“Thank you,” I said softly, and he reached out, brushing a strand of wet hair from my face, his fingers lingering against my cheek.

“You never have to thank me,” he murmured, leaning in until his forehead rested against mine, his breath mingling with mine, warm and steady. “I’ll always take care of you, my sweet mate. Always.”

CHAPTER 12

Rowan

She was perfect.

More than perfect.

As I held her there in the water, steam curling around us, her body soft and warm against mine, I felt that same primal instinct rise up, the one that had hit me like a damn freight train the moment I first laid eyes on her back in that compound.

I’d fought it, tried to bury it deep down, but it was impossible. The moment I saw her, trembling and terrified but still fierce, still unbroken, something inside me had snapped. It was like she’d called to a part of me that I’d thought was long dead, a part that roared to life and refused to be silenced. My instincts, my need to protect, to possess—it had all come flooding back, stronger than it had ever been before. There was no denying it, no fighting it.

I’d wanted her more than I’d wanted air, more than I’d wanted freedom. More than life itself. And it had terrified me just how much I needed her. How much I still needed her.

And when I’d marked her as mine, when I’d sunk my teeth into her skin and felt her shudder against me, there hadn’t been a single shred of regret.

Not for one second.

That bite was the most natural thing I’d ever done, the truest thing I’d ever felt. Kendra was mine, and I was never going to let her go.

Not now. Not ever.

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