Page 49 of Emerald Flame
“Thanks. I will. I admit I’m starved.”
She was grateful he didn’t insist on staying with her. She needed the separation.
Once in the bathroom, she pressed herself up against the tile wall and forced herself to breathe. She hadn’t expected this or wanted it. She knew they created some kind of magic together, but mutual healing? Somehow, despite all the miraculous things that had happened, the thought they were healing each other was a breaking point for her.
She’d been a fool about this man. She’d thought on some stupid level that she just wanted to share his bed for a while. Nothing permanent. A stolen season.
“Hey.”
Suddenly, Warren was there, in the doorway. “What?” She barked the word.
“What’s wrong? I could feel your distress in waves while I was putting on my socks.”
When he stepped toward her, she lifted a hand. “Don’t. I can’t—” But nothing more came out.
He lifted both hands. “Kiara, it’s okay.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I can’t. I didn’t sign up for this. I didn’t mean to objectify you, Warren, but I just wanted to sleep with you and now we’re healing each other. What the fuck does this mean?”
He laughed. “Did you just say that?”
“I did.” Some of the tension eased out of her.
“Relax. Seriously. You can’t be my alpha-mate so there’s nothing to think about. We can be fuck-buddies.”
This time she chuckled. “Go get your steak. I had a moment, is all. I’m better.”
“You’re not better. You’re great.”
At that, she glared at him. “And you’re not helping.”
He laughed once more and slapped the doorframe. But before he left, he said, “And please, objectify me all you want.” He growled softly then disappeared.
It was the growl that did her in. Her knees buckled, she slid straight down the wall and landed on her ass.
He’d given her permission to objectify him.
If she focused hard enough, maybe she could hold the line with herself, take the pleasure of the moment, then leave when it was time.
He could never take a witch for an alpha-mate and there was no way in hell she wanted that kind of permanent bond with any man, not here, not in the wasteland known as Five Bridges. There was too much death all around her. If she got too close to Warren, and anything happened to him, she didn’t think she could bear it.
~ ~ ~
While Warren ate his thick porterhouse, burned on the outside and blood red within, he kept his gaze fixed to the wolf who’d saved his life so many years ago. Fergus had gone back to his compound and cleaned up as well. His hair was still damp though held back in several braids and a clasp.
He peered at Warren’s face. “I can’t get over this change. Both eyes are open. Your scarring looks better, too.”
Warren set his knife down and rubbed the formerly scarred lid. “Kiara’s been having an effect, being this close to her, I mean.”
“She’s healing you?”
“It seems to be a joint effort. Some of her scars look better, too. Neither of us knows what’s going on.” He picked up his knife again and went back to work. For all that they’d been doing, especially engaging his storm power, he needed food.
Fergus shook his head. He looked bewildered as he glanced around the dining room. “This is some set-up she’s created here, in Savage, without any of us knowing. I can’t fathom how she did it and I’m not sure I like the secrecy.”
“I don’t either, but I can hardly argue with the results.”
“How many wolves has she rescued and shuttled out of the territory for rehab?” Fergus had taken a meal with his men at the Gordion compound.
