Page 20 of Destined to the Lycan
“Because the mat will become too cumbersome later on in our journey,” I explained in an apologetic tone. “I really hoped we would reach the lodge tonight so you would be more comfortable. As I previously mentioned, the path we must travel will grow increasingly rough. In fact, I will carry you for the last leg of the trip.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “Carry me?!”
I nodded with a teasing expression. “Technically, you will actually ride my wolf.”
Shoving that piece of dried meat into my mouth to free my hand, I leaned down to retrieve the harness from one of my bags propped up against the side of the bench. Amara stared in disbelief as I unfolded it to show her.
“This was one of the reasons I needed an extra day before our departure,” I explained smugly, although a sliver of nervousness reared its head at her potential reaction. “I made this harness for you yesterday.”
Robbed of words, Amara’s gaze flicked incredulously between the harness and my face.
“Ride you like a horse?” she asked in a hesitant voice.
“Yes,” I replied, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
She stared at me a second longer, seeming unsure as to how she felt about it. “Do you do that often for people?”
I recoiled and looked at her as if she said something outrageous. Although that question was fair under the circumstances, it still rubbed me the wrong way.
“Never! This will be my first time doing this,” I said, sounding a little offended.
“But you will do it for me?” she insisted, a strange expression fleeting over her features.
I responded with a grunt and a stiff nod.
“Why?” Amara asked with sincere confusion.
“Because you are sick, and you will absolutely need it if we are to reach our destination. The journey will put far too great a strain on you without my assistance. I pledged to take you to the cure, and I’m a man of my word,” I said.
That same strange expression flashed over her face. She chewed her bottom lip as if pondering whether to ask the question that clearly burned her tongue.
“Would you do this for another sick customer?” she asked at last.
“No.”
Her brows shot up at the swift and definitive way I responded.
“Would you take another dying person to Ranael, if they asked?” Amara insisted when I didn’t expand further.
I hesitated. “Probably not.”
She scrunched her face when I reached for another piece of dried meat and started chewing instead of providing additional explanation for my stance.
“Is it for the reasons Ulric claimed?”
I froze, stopped mid-chew, and studied her face as if it would reveal what she meant. My mind raced as I speculated about what horror he might have said about me.
“What did he say?” I asked cautiously.
She held my gaze unwaveringly, her face unreadable.
“He said a lot of wild things,” she replied in a non-committal fashion.
“Like what?” I insisted, annoyed to have her give me a taste of my own medicine.
“He claims that you are dangerous, and that you’re only taking me so that you can bed me.”
I jumped to my feet, anger and outrage swelling within me. “I’m not a rapist! I would never trap a woman or lure her into the woods just to have my way with her!”
