CHAPTER 7
The ferocity of the feeling that swept through Grey the moment the elf looked at Lyra shook him to his core.
It was strong, overpowering, commanding him to fight.
For her.
He tried to focus on the elf and on finding out what the male knew, but it became impossible when Lyra moved closer to the male.
Grey’s hands shook as his claws lengthened.
His fangs emerged, itching for the taste of blood.
His heart slammed against his chest.
He grabbed the papers and his bag. “Excuse me a moment.”
He was out of the door before Lyra could say anything, had placed at least thirty metres between him and the village in the next heartbeat.
Leaving her with the male.
Grey growled, his fangs punching long from his gums and his claws sinking into the straps of the backpack as he slung it over his shoulders.
The hunger to shift and rip out the elf’s throat blasted through him.
He forced himself to keep moving away, to place more distance between them and find some space, some air, anything to help him get the urges running rampant through him back under control.
He was halfway across the valley before it finally began to abate and he could breathe again.
“Wait.”
Lyra.
He made the mistake of turning towards her.
The second he saw her, a different urge struck him, this one far more powerful than the need to fight.
He needed to dominate her and drive her into submission. It wasn’t him, and he didn’t like how it made him feel. He didn’t like it at all. He wasn’t one to force his will on anyone.
He was a protector first and foremost, a male who took care of others not one who did things that would hurt them.
He breathed hard, desperately trying to subdue the instincts rising inside him before she reached him and saw what she did to him, and the things he wanted to do with her.
He couldn’t let her see it. She was terrified of males now, afraid of anyone touching her. He didn’t want to frighten her. It would kill him as sure as a blade through his heart.
“Wait.” She held her hand up as she limped towards him, a wild edge to her blue eyes, one that had him waiting for her when he should have kept walking and putting more distance between them.
With her injury slowing her down, he could easily outrun her and leave her in the dust, unable to follow him.
It was pointless.
He could outrun her, but he couldn’t outrun this feeling, the urges that struck him and tried to control him whenever he let himself slip.
They were never going away.
He stared at Lyra.
Because she was his fated one.
That killed him.
He couldn’t take it.
“The elf says it’s in the dragon realm.” She stopped near him and leaned forwards as she fought to catch her breath. “You left before he could say. Why?”
She lifted her chin and hit him hard with those blue eyes, her black hair falling forwards to brush both of her cheeks.
“Thanks.” Grey turned away from her because he couldn’t bear looking at her, wasn’t sure he was strong enough right now, not in the wake of the revelation that she was his fated female.
He had thought he would never have one, yet here she was, the one who had been made for him and him alone.
A female for him to cherish, to protect and to love forever.
But she would never be that for him. He wasn’t a fool. He could see the damage her captivity had done to her, how it had shaped her feelings about males and about anything that might be a collar, whether it was a physical restraint, or a blood bond.
She would hate it, and hate him for it.
He started walking again, his heart leaping about all over the place in his chest, a need to turn back around and stay with her warring with a deeper need to leave.
He didn’t want to hurt her.
He might if he stayed near her.
He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he lost control and did something he would regret.
Something she would regret too when she realised what he was.
He didn’t think he could bear her inevitable rejection.
“Thanks?” she snapped, a sharp edge to her usually soft voice. “Thanks? That’s all you have to say to me?”
“You helped me. We’re even. Just keep on the same bearing we took to reach the village and you’ll hit the portal. Go home, Lyra.” Gods, those were the hardest words he had ever had to say.
She didn’t want to be around him though, and she had done what she had promised. She had translated for him and now he had a lead to follow. She was free to go. He had things from here.
After everything she had been through in Hell, she was probably already walking away from him, taking him up on the offer.
Only when he focused on her, he found she was moving closer instead of further away.
He looked over his shoulder at her. “What are you doing?”
“My debt is far from repaid, and I know the way to the dragon realm.” She scowled at him. “I’m going to help you.”
Gods.
He couldn’t bear it.
The need to crush her in his arms, to bruise her lips with a fierce kiss that would make her see that she was his, and his alone, and he was hers, was too strong, consuming, driving him to do something. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t take her with him.
He wasn’t strong enough to keep fighting that need.
She was asking too much of him.
“Just point the way,” he bit out. “You’re not coming with me. I don’t need your help anymore.”
“You do.” Stubborn hellcat. She planted her hands on her hips. “It’s better this way.”
No. It was better his way. It was better for both of them.
“Go.” He reached out to grab her and push her away from him.
She bared her fangs at him and hissed.
His hand dropped to his side, self-loathing sweeping through him. He had almost overstepped the line already. If they stayed together, he would end up doing something terrible. He would cross that line in the worst of ways.
It wasn’t him.
But at the same time it was.
He had never been aware of his hellcat side, but now he was aware of nothing else. It ruled him, pushed him into seizing Lyra with both hands and bending her to his will, doing whatever it took to make her belong to him.
No.
He closed his eyes, clenched his fists and swore he would never be that male.
Because Lyra was leaving him right here, right now, and he would never see her again.
She started walking, moving away from him, and relief poured through him, lifting some of the weight from his heart. Thank the gods, she was going to do as he asked and leave him.
It was what he deserved.
He didn’t belong with a female like her.
He didn’t deserve any female.
Even if he had managed to control his dark urges around her, eventually she would have seen him shift, and she would have witnessed him in his feline form.
She would have seen him as his pride did.
Not a beautiful tiger with gold and black fur like his twin and the rest of his family.
An aberration.
A freak.
The relief that had washed through him like cool water dried up when he focused harder on Lyra.
And realised she was heading in the opposite direction to the portal, walking towards the mountains they had traversed to reach the valley from the one on the other side where the slave camp had been.
He opened his eyes and looked at her as she limped determinedly away from him, his black t-shirt and cargo shorts swamping her slender figure, and her skin marred with dark dust that reached halfway up her calves.
“Where are you going?”
She didn’t look at him as she answered.
“I just remembered I had some business in the dragon realm.”