Captive Of The Warg, (Wargs of the Outland #2)

Chewing Rocks

One hour. That's how long Bayne had forced himself to run—to stay away—before he turned back. He'd needed that sprint to dull the edge of his rage. Anger at himself and anger at her.

On the glowing path, halfway to his quarry, he'd whiffed that malodorous goblin. That putrid stench obtruded over Reia's distinctive scent of sweet fern and wild rose. And blood—he'd smelled that, too. His heart had lurched and he'd sprinted all the way to the Leikker Sal in search of Reia.

His pulse waged war in his skull, thundering with wrath and dread as he burst into the hall. Only to stop dead in his tracks.

Reia stood with her back towards him. Whole and unharmed. The moment he'd entered the Leikker Sal, his glare had snagged her. She was like the moon in that way, affecting his blood like a ripping tide.

And she'd known the minute he'd come. Her spine turned rigid and her head whipped to the side before she caught herself and turned back to Saska.

His fangs retreated and the fur smoothed back under his skin as he vented a growling sigh. The tension in his shoulders, though, would not wane. Especially not while she ignored him. Eyes narrowing, he took a step forward.

And in that step, a stab of uncertainty. He halted, teeth clenched.

What was he going to do when he reached her? Tie her up and leash her to his bed as he'd done before? Make her sleep on the floor like that first night?

He pinched his eyes closed and turned away with a frustrated grunt. He couldn't bring himself to punish her. He couldn't force himself to demean her just because she'd rejected him, though, the urge to do so burned in his chest.

She'd thrown the mating bond in his face while he'd still been wrapped in that cresting sense of wholeness. Then she'd ripped out his guts.

His chest expanded as he sucked in a calming breath, trying to forget the way she'd pulled away from him in the pool.

Not possible, she'd said. A liar, she'd called him. His fists curled at his side. Yes, he was a liar, but not about the mating bond. Her sharp words had drawn blood and released a black storm in him that'd blotted out his reason. He'd retaliated by underscoring what he wished was true—would that she was no more to him than a captive. An object.

At the peak of his temper, he'd backed himself into a corner and said the words he couldn't take back. He'd regretted them from the moment they'd burst off his tongue. Now he couldn't approach her without hating himself. And her.

He shifted his gaze towards the dais and noticed his mother watching him with that shrewd, knowing look.

Ania stood up and sauntered towards him. With a raised brow, she passed by and headed out of the hall.

Bayne threw a brief look at Reia's still rigid back and then, cursing silently, he turned away.

Ania was striding quietly towards the solitary temple of bones spread eminently on the ice field. He caught up to her in three strides. As he did so, his mother wove her arm around his and squeezed his bicep.

Ania's nose lifted, wrinkling. "How long does that goblin pet of hers intend to foul our air?"

Bayne's mouth flattened, hating that scent. "Until Reia gives him a red coat, I imagine."

Ania turned to him, her eyes scanning the side of his face. "Then I shall help her make it once Bolrus dyes the fur." His mother shrugged when he glanced down at her with furrowed surprise. "To rid our home of that pest, and for no other reason," she clarified.