She refused to be browbeaten into this. Squaring her shoulders, she said, “Munro, as long as you’re bent on this course, I can never allow my feelings for you to deepen any further.”
“Then we’re fucked,” Munro grated. “Because as long as you’re mortal, I canna allow mine to deepen.” As if he could moderate his feelings for her.
She stood with her eyes flashing, her chin raised—as necessary to him as air to his lungs. “You truly don’t see me as your equal.”
“Equal in strength? In fortitude or longevity? No, I doona consider a mortal my equal, just as you would no’ consider a green hunter to be yours. But if you’ll accept what I am desperate to give you, then you can have these gifts.”
Why could she not understand what his worry was doing to him? What was it Munro’s mam had told her sons? In every relationship, sometimes you’re the steady strop that brightens the blade. Sometimes you’re the blade in need of care. You canna always be one or the other.
With Will, Munro had forever been the strop. He’d spent nine hundred years working his arse off to keep his twin alive. Now that Munro might finally be able to rest on that score, was he to have the same fight with his mate?
The thought spurred his temper, the pressures of the last several days threatening to explode. The pressures of the last several eras! “I’ve awaited you for nearly a millennium, begging fate to give you to me. Then she does, but that fickle witch had a surprise in store. My mate is selfish.”
“Because I want a say in my future? I went from being in charge of myself and others to being powerless. I went from knowing my world to knowing nothing. I need to reclaim my power, but you plan to rob me once more.”
“Is that why you hold yourself distant from me? You give me your body, but no’ your heart and mind.” Lykae mates always shared secrets, yet Kereny remained close-lipped. “I still have no idea how your parents died or why you loved everyone in the circus so much. I still have no idea how to make both of us happy and earn those feelings for myself. But one day, I will figure this out.” He reached for her, cupping her nape with a shaking hand. “And once this obsession runs both ways, you’ll thank the gods that I was ready to do whatever it took for us to be together.”
The mulish set of her chin told him he wasn’t getting through to her at all. So what the hell should he do with her?
He couldn’t keep marching toward Dacia as the full moon neared, and he couldn’t leave her behind at Glenrial. He respected her determination as he would a foe’s might—and if she’d made up her mind to go after Jels, she bloody well would.
Sweat beaded his upper lip. His beast was rising, barreling to the surface. It wanted to sink its claws into her so she could never get away. By the way she stared at his eyes, he knew they were turning, which just added fuel to flame. “This is about more than changing your species. You still hate immortals.”
“That’s not true!”
“You fight what you feel for me because I’m a werewolf. You want to deny me the full moon and my claiming bite—these things make me a Lykae. You don’t want me, you want a human male.” He released her, digging his claws into his palms. “Well guess what? You had better get used to me, because I’m no’ just your best alternative in this time; I’m your only alternative.”
Her eyes shot wide. “I wish I’d never met you!”
“Right now, the feeling is mutual.” Tangled up in all his frustration was something else. Something terrifying in its potential.
Since the first moment he’d laid eyes on Kereny, he’d been so busy protecting her and trying to sell her on immortality that he’d left his heart wide fucking open. I’ve bloody fallen for her.
Yet evidence mounted that he wasn’t her mate, that this fated bond went only one way. Why did she not feel as she was supposed to? While he’d thought their pleasures were solidifying their mated connection, mayhap he was merely bedsport for her. “Why am I wasting my breath? I see the way you look at me. You doona even view me as a person. Only as a monster. That is why you will no’ change for me.”
“You’re acting like a monster right now!”
Pressures. Frustrations. The beast clawed for freedom. Crazed, Munro reached for her once more. Their fight had only amplified the sexual tension between them. He leaned in, about to take her mouth.
Her body stiffened against his. Yet then she wetted her lips, as helpless to their lust as he was.
Kereny wanted him to claim her? Mayhap he should. Then she would cleave to him!
No, you could kill her. He’d suspected her fate was to die by a Lorean’s hand; what if Munro lost control of his beast and destroyed his precious mate?
A cloud of mist suddenly overran them. He shoved her behind him, fangs bared to attack.
FORTY-FIVE
Ren was still reeling from the wolf’s words when four pale-skinned swordsmen materialized out of a dense bank of fog.
She snatched her knife free and edged out from behind Munro’s broad back. Why hadn’t these males drawn their weapons?
The largest one spoke in accented English: “I am Stelian, the gatekeeper of Dacia.”
Actual Dacians were standing before them! Would Munro accompany these vampires with Ren—his selfish, weak mate—in tow?
“You have an appointment with our king as Dacia’s Lykae . . . ambassador.” This Stelian seemed to look down his nose at Munro. His ice-blue eyes—almost as pale as Munro’s wolven gaze—were filled with disdain.
Munro inhaled for calm but couldn’t quell his beast, not as he had in the past. As he grappled for control, the vampires remained on alert.
“Wolf?” Stelian’s hand slipped to his sword hilt.
Voice altered, Munro said, “I’ve got it.”
Maybe it wasn’t possible for him to control his beast for much longer. Maybe Ren’s hopes for their future were flawed.
Once the gold of his eyes finally resurfaced, he asked Stelian, “You’re day walkers?”
“Not quite. Our mist protects us from the sun.”
“Why did you no’ show at the inn?”
“I’m not at liberty to say why the plans changed, but feel free to ask King Lothaire.”
“I intend to, but first I need to get my mate to my brother. I scented a nearby village. She and I will head there, then I’ll meet Lothaire later.”
Stelian’s expression grew even stonier. “Our king is expecting two of you today. Which means we will deliver two of you today.”