Page 22 of Mated Exile

"Always."

My chest constricts, breath hitching. I don't know what to say to him, how to respond, and a moment later I don't have to. A big, dark grey wolf throws itself in my direction, turning into Kieran's human form between one step and the other. Shouldering Roarke aside, he throws his arms around me and gathers me to his chest so tight that I squeak.

"You're okay, you're okay." His body curves around me, hand sliding across my lower back and neck. My ear is pressed up against his chest, and I can hear the hammering of his heart, beating so fast it's like a galloping herd of horses. "Thank god. I'll never let you go again."

I hug him back, a tight warm lump in my throat. There's so much we need to talk about, and so many words we've never said. It feels like ages ago that we almost made the biggest mistake, but it was just the other day, not even forty-eight hours.

Even though the smell of him feels like coming home, and the pain in his voice hurts me, I'm more glad than ever that we didn't actually go all the way. Not just because of the mate bond, but also because the man whose arms I slide out of, frantic and on edge, isn't the Kieran I ever imagined coming home to.

"We should talk," I murmur in a quiet voice, as the last two wolves come up to us and shift into their human forms, one limping. "Later."

"Yeah." Kieran takes in a shaky breath and gives me a tremulous smile. "Later."

Lance is the next to greet me. He stands upright and at a distance. Disentangling myself from Kieran, I take a few steps and quietly stand in front of him, cocking my head as I stare up into his face, which is as still as a manmade lake. His eyes are the only part of him that show any emotion, fervently studying me up and down, taking every inch of me in.

In a low voice he asks, "You're okay?"

"As I can be." I step forward and hesitantly put my arms around him. "I'm glad you're okay."

He raises his own arms, slowly at first, then suddenly squeezes me against him. Tight enough that I feel the strength of his broad muscles, loose enough that I'm still able to breathe.

Against my cheek he murmurs, "I won't let anything like that ever happen to you again."

"I don't think you can make that promise," I tell him, stepping back and looking into his face. "You never know what might happen, after all."

"Icanmake it, because I am right now," he says, his eyes lidded, that shock of white hair reflecting starlight and moonlight. Carefully, he brings a thumb up to my cheek and brushes my dyed maroon hair back from my face. "Delilah Glass, on my honor, you'll be safe from now on. Whenever you're in Juniper, under my watchful eye, I'll protect you. And the vampires who took you from me will pay."

His voice is low and quiet, but it carries all the strength and authority of a shouted command. I draw in a shaky breath, eyes widening, staring up at him.

Slowly, I place my hands against his chest and murmur, "Um. Okay."

Lance smiles, his mouth quirking up all at once. A small chuckle rumbles his chest, which vibrates against my fingers. Ducking my head, I step away from him, and approach the last, lone figure of the group, limping slowly but steadily towards me.

Finn's eyes are on me, their cool brown steady and sure. He doesn't wince as he sets weight down on his right leg, but I see the way his chest hitches with an intake of breath, how he lists to one side. Still, he keeps walking, every step torture.

"Stop that!" Scowling, I rush towards him and grab onto his upper arms. Then I aim the scowl over my shoulder, at the other guys. "You let him go out there like this?"

Roarke gives me a weighted look. "I tried to stop him. There were consequences."

"Delilah." I jerk my head around at Finn's rough, emotional voice. "Come closer."

Confused, I lean towards him—and he practically falls against me, his hug half-lean and half-press of arms. But he steadies himself as I slip my hands around his waist and press my cheek against his chest, the warmth of his body steady against mine, his left leg taking the weight that his right won't bear.

"Your leg." Tears spring to my eyes at the memory of the bone going right out of the skin, white and shocking. "It won't heal right."

"It's okay," he murmurs, drawing back and putting a thumb against my chin, tilting my face up as his eyes roam every inch of me. "As long as you're alright."

Then he swoops down and sweetly, slowly, kisses me. My lips part on a noise of protest that's swallowed by the soft and exquisite brush of his mouth on mine. He tastes like vanilla and smells like a campfire against my skin, warm and vibrant on a cool autumn night.

Drawing back, he winks at me. "I wanted to do it in front of the others. Just so they'd know."

In a squeaky voice I ask, "Know what?"

"That I won't be giving you up easy. They'll have to fight me if they want to take me away from you. Vampires, werewolves, humans—everyone."

"Really?"

"I missed you while you were gone, and I want the chance to get to know you better." His hand moves down to my lower waist and pulls me against him until I'm enveloped in the warmth and smell of him. Brushing his nose against my cheek, he murmurs, "Delilah Glass, you're under my skin."

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