Page 64 of Untamed

Scared of what? And should I be frightened, too?

"What are the shadows in your eyes for, my Bliss?" Mactiir asks me in a low voice. "I want them gone. I want you to be happy."

Mama never knew a male like this. Sadness fills my soul. Mama never knew a male could be so nice to a female.

"Let's walk,Qitsuk," Mactiir says in a hurry. I think the tears welling in my eyes make him nervous.

I'm the first to break out of the embrace. Mactiir is quick to catch up, his stride easily matching mine. I squeeze his hand in reassurance. I stop crying. There's no reason for tears because there's nothing I can do. I can't bring Mama back and show her Mactiir. And, if she were here, I would show him off as if he's the best pie I ever made.

I should make a pie. I glance over at Mactiir. What sort of pie would he like? I smile. Walnut, of course. And, it's just the right time of year to collect the seed pods.

Reaching out, I skim my hands over the evergreen fern growing near the path. There are walnut trees just a half-mile away. Perfect.

"Qitsuk? What are you doing, Bliss?" Mactiir looks at me in surprise when I free my hand from his grip and bend over to pick up the first of the walnut pods.

"Ah, sweet cat, we didn't bring a basket," he points out.

I roll my eyes at him and tug his shirt. He taps my nose with his forefinger. "You want me to take off my shirt? Why didn't you just say so?" he grins before stripping off his shirt and giving it to me.

I would be huffy about being corrected like a pup, but I'm busy admiring his chest. So is my she-wolf. His muscles ripple as he ties the sleeves into a sling and starts to help me fill it. Within ten minutes, his shirt is full. I begin to use my dress, lifting the skirt higher and higher as the walnuts fill the fabric.

"We should head back to the cottage," Mactiir says hoarsely. He's staring at my bare thighs. His eyes are hot.

I just smile. He's thinking about doingthingsagain. Things like the pup's magazine. He's not stuck his knobby stick in meyet. Maybe soon.

When we get back to the cottage, I strip my dress off in the kitchen. I find a big pot to boil the walnuts and fill it with the wonderful water faucet that Mactiir showed me. Then I bite my lip. Mactiir doesn't have a fireplace or a woodstove to boil the water on.

"Here, Bliss, let me show you the stovetop." Mactiir takes the pot, places it on the stove, and turns some knobs. I watch, fascinated, as the stove lights up with a flame at just the twist of his fingers. It's just like the vehicle, with all the dials and buttons.

I check the flame, testing the water temperature until it's hot enough to cover and leave.

"All done, kitten?" Mactiir murmurs.

When he calls me 'kitten,' I know he's thinking aboutsex.

I turn to him and hold out my arms.

---

Inuit

I inhale the scent of my mate and smile. Every part of me is quivering with need and desire. She rolls her hips against mine, her soft moans punctuating the air. Our greedy mouths devour each other. The only thing keeping my mate's innocence intact is the too-thin material of my jeans. Jeans, but I can feel her wet heat right through them.

"Bliss, keep moving," I barely understand my own words. Lust is drowning out everything but her. I buck my hips, letting her ride me. Every inch of me is on fire, my wolf howling to the moon in joy at holding our mate.

The sound of footsteps approaching the cabin penetrates the fog of lust like a wrecking ball.

"Motherfucker," I snarl, surging to my feet, my mate throwing herself into a crouch next to me, her golden eyes scanning the windows for the intruders.

Two facts hit me. We have visitors, and my mate is naked.

"Your dress,Qitsuk," I bark out at her. I earn a dismissive glance for that one. She's not a wilting flower, my cat.

I clench my jaw to keep from barking more useless commands at her. She's right, in a way. Why worry about clothes when you may have enemies at your doorstep? I inhale, trying to grab the scent.

"Shit," I sigh. I don't need this right now.

When they knock on the door, I stalk to throw it open. At least I'm wearing pants. "Qitsuk, it's my brothers. Put on your dress," I call out over my shoulder.