"What do you mean you're not going?" Thesta's voice climbed an octave, making Rowan wince.
"I'm tired." It wasn't a lie, she hadn't been able to sleep all week. "I can't—"
"Bah! You're as fit as a bog rabbit. The exercise will do you good." Thesta gave a succinct nod as though Rowan not going on the hunt tonight was unthinkable. Her brows fell as Rowan shook her head again. "Fine, then ride atop your mate's back if you're so tired."
"I told you, I'm not going."
Thesta's lips pursed. "You don't understand, Rowan, this is an important night. You must go."
She dragged her gaze away from Thesta's imploring look, hating how wretched it made her feel.
But Thesta wasn't done. "The Full Moon Hunt is one of Mantor's twelve sacred nights, you cannot miss this! It's what makes the pack so cohesive—bonds are reenforced and deepened. Most of all, it sustains the wargrex link, our joint power amplifies his power. It's what gives him—us—dominion over the outland. If he's strong, we're all strong, including you! Rowan you cannot miss tonight. We need you. My brother needs you."
But Rowan only tightened her jaw and kept her gaze averted. Gods, this was agonizing. She wished Thesta would stop making her feel worse about what could not be changed. She had to leave tonight. It was the only night the Mantor eyes would glow bright enough.
"Rowan?"
"Let her be, Sister." Thrax emerged into the hall and Rowan felt all the air rushing out of her lungs, her flesh rippling with awareness.
How long had he been listening? She snuck a glance at his face, and then swiftly wished she hadn't. He looked worse than angry. He looked...disappointed.
Thesta stood so that she was facing her brother. "She's your mate, she has to be there."
Without lifting his sullen gaze from Rowan, "She knows that."
Rowan glared down at her father's ring, . "I don't enjoy bloodsport," she said weakly.
"We eat what we kill," Thesta swiftly replied.
Thrax made no comment—his very silence was telling. He nodded to his sister, dismissing her. With a long sigh, Thesta left the house. All this Rowan observed from her periphery.
The moon would be rising soon, and the pack was likely already gathering outside the village. Moonrath had caught scent of a fat saber troll bull this morning, or so Thesta had told her earlier. Everyone was excited for the hunt. Saber trolls were wily and strong, not to mention huge, beasts that were worthy adversaries for wargs.
With the neighboring index finger, Rowan turned her father's ring as though spinning it might fuel her courage. Around and around it went, much the same as her doubts. Finally, she fisted her hand to silence her dread. It didn't work, however.
All the while, Thrax undressed in silence. She hated that she could feel his implacable gaze. It was worse tonight because instead of it being the hot caress she'd become so used to lately, it was hard and probing. If he didn't leave soon, the tension on her nerves would have her snapping into pieces.
Even without looking directly, she could see his naked body taking on the wolf form. He was making it a habit to 'reconcile' her to the shifting. She supposed it was working because each time he shifted, it was becoming less and less frightening. Except tonight. The assessing looks in his wolf eyes were harder to bear. In a way, now that he couldn't speak, his looks were all the more telling.
Maybe she ought to have stayed for the hunt and then tried to get away tomorrow night instead. This horrible feeling of disappointment was swelling into throbbing aches around her temples. No, she quickly reminded herself. Tonight was the only night every warg would be distracted. Her only chance in getting home.
YOU ARE READING
Mated to the Warg, (Wargs of the Outland, #1)
WerewolfThrust by duty into the world of monsters, sheltered Rowan is forced to marry fearsome rival warg alpha, Thrax. *** In a realm where darkness reigns and beasts roam, Rowan, sheltered daughter of a powerful monarch, faces the ultimate test of courage...