Page 7 of Aine

“I’m excited to show you around,” she says, walking around me and opening the door. “We haven’t had a human mate in years.”

Jenna moves again to the back of my chair and rushes to push me through the door before it closes. I crane my neck to look at her, noting the wide grin she sports.

“Until me, you were the last execution we had.” A slight frown toys at the corners of my lips.

Anger flashes in her eyes, yet, in contradiction, she releases a laugh.

“I was the lastpublicexecution,” she says. “There have been numerous others over the past few years.”

My lips purse, and I turn back around so I can prod at my thigh. I’m not entirely shocked to hear that. Our village is relatively small, so we notice when somebody goes missing. There have been a number over the past few years, and I’ve always wondered how many of these were actually executions. We were told they were suicides.

I clear my throat as the door slams shut behind us, my eyes widening at the sight in front of me. Although I’m able to catch glimpses of houses between the trees, this place looks more like the woods than a village.

“I was expecting a more cultivated land,” I admit.

Jenna snorts. “The beasts like their privacy. It looks pretty wild out here, but I promise it’s an organized chaos.”

She gives me another minute to look around before starting our walk. There’s a small path she follows, a thin strip where the ground has been flattened from people walking over it on a regular basis.

“The most popular spots here are the training area and the dining hall. I don’t want to overload you, so I’ll just show you those two things before taking you home,” Jenna says after a moment of silence. She then grunts as she struggles to push me over a rock.

Her words send a shiver down my spine, the uncertainty of this new life frightening. I don’t even want to think about the fact that some man has claimed me as his soulmate, and I avoid the topic like the plague.

It won’t be the first time I’ve been forced into a partnership with a man I hardly know.

“How do they treat you?” I ask, turning again to look at Jenna.

She frowns, her lips flattening into a thin line. “The beasts don’t love humans. Sometimes I think they think of us as little pesky bugs, but since mates are so respected among their culture, they are kind to us.”

Her fingers instinctively move to her neck, and for the first time, I notice there’s a large scar on the area where her neck meets her shoulder. I have to blink a few times to ensure I’m not imagining things, but the shape never changes. It’s a bite mark?

Jenna notices my gaze and tilts her head so I can see it better. The scar stretches with the action, the teeth marks distorting.

“Instead of a marriage ceremony and rings, beasts like to bite to symbolize the bond between mated pairs. It’s an expression of love, and it creates a physical pathway between souls. I can feel Avia’s, my mate’s, emotions through it, and she can feel mine. The bite is sacred to the beasts, and Damien won’t do it without your permission.” She tacks on the last bit when she sees my horror.

They bite one another? I’d much rather be forced to wear a ring than let one of them sink their teeth into my skin.

The mere thought has shivers running down my spine.

I hope Jenna’s right that this Damien won’t try to do that to me.

A tense silence stretches between us, and after a second, I turn back around. I can tell she’s passionate about her bite mark, and the last thing I want is to disrespect this culture she seems so entwined with.

I won’t bite the hand that feeds me.

Literally.

The silence continues as Jenna begins pushing my chair once more, but thankfully, it feels less tense. I take this time to peer around. “Organized chaos” is a good term to describe this place, the thin path weaving between hidden houses. Or at least what I assume to be houses. They’re beautiful wooden buildings, well-maintained and big enough to hold large families.

“Where is everybody?” I ask.

“Most people are at the training fields right now. Those who aren’t are probably out patrolling the woods or in the dining hall,” Jenna answers, pausing momentarily before pushing me over another large rock. “Beasts don’t usually stay inside their homes during the day.”

“Oh,” I say, unable to come up with a follow-up question.

We continue to move at a slow pace, and I lean forward as I begin to hear the sounds of people moving about. The commotion intensifies the closer we become, and up ahead, I see a large clearing.

My jaw drops as Jenna finally pushes me past the treeline, my pulse racing as I take in what I assume is the training field she mentioned. We had one back at my old village, but it was nothing compared to this.

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