Finn

Chapter Thirty-Six

Turin's POV

Finn took the cooked fish I offered her eagerly, her eyes bulging out of her head as she stared at the food. She devoured it quickly, despite my protests for her to slow down. When I offered her a second one she groaned and pushed it away, holding a hand to her full stomach.

We stayed in silence for a while longer. I picked at my own fish, eating it much slower than her. Finn kept her eyes focussed on the fire in front of us, her foot tapping against the ground. I had so many questions for her, but I couldn't stop staring at the angry, red mark poking out from the collar of her shirt. I'd known it was going to happen eventually, but the sight still made me nauseous.

"I take it Cillian doesn't know that you're here?" I asked after a while. I set aside the sticks the fish had been speared on before turning to face her. Finn stayed transfixed by the fire, but scoffed at the question and shook her head. I knew her irritation wasn't directed at me, but at her stubborn mate. We both knew he'd never let her leave willingly, especially not if he knew she was going to come find me.

"So why did you leave?" I tilted my head to the side as I watched her. My eyes shifted down to the mark on her neck, my chest squeezing at the sight. Finn frowned at the question, and it took her a moment to finally respond. When she did, she finally looked away from the fire and her eyes met mine.

"When I found your letter, I confronted him about it and we had a big fight," She told me, pausing briefly as she gulped. A hand moved from her lap and gestured to the side of her face that was bruised and scabbed over, "I got mad. I called him coward. He didn't take it very well."

"He did this to you?" My voice came out much harsher than I intended, and I noticed her flinch away from me slightly. She tried to hide it quickly by coughing and nodding. My wolf had already seen the fear in her eyes, and that was enough to have him howling.

I moved a hand slowly up to her face, her big eyes watching every movement closely. I waited for her to flinch or move away, but when she didn't, I brushed my finger across the three long scratches on her cheek. They had started to heal faster with my blood in her, but I knew they would still leave a light scar. They were already a couple days old when I found her.

When I looked away from her cheek my eyes met Finn's, and my breathing caught in my throat. I hadn't realized how close I moved to her, and our faces were only inches apart. Every cell on my body told me to lean forward a little further and kiss her, but I knew I couldn't. She didn't need more confusion right now. She needed a friend.

So with all of the self-restraint I could muster, I looked away from her eyes and down to the mark on her neck. I knew better than to run a finger over the mark, but I frowned as I inspected it closely. The marks were notoriously sensitive to both pain and pleasure, which most werewolves saw as a positive.

"What?" Finn asked me suddenly, her face falling into a frown as she took in my expression. She looked down at her neck, trying to see the mark I had been staring at, "is it infected or something? What's wrong?"

To another human, it might look like it had grown infected. But I knew that if they had completed the mate bond, the mark would have healed almost instantly and become a scar. Her's looked to be in even worse state than I had seen before, likely because she was so far from her mate. Her body craved his presence. It wanted to complete the bond, and was urging her to go to him.

I didn't like the idea of her leaving now that she was here. I'd already let her go once before. I wasn't sure I could do it again.

"No, no, it's not infected," I told her, leaning back to put some space between us. Finn watched me expectantly as she waited for me to explain. I hesitated, wishing I didn't have to ask her such a personal question, "Finn, did you mark Cillian back?"