The Wolf Lord's Mate

Chapter Twenty-Two

The next three nights were misery.

At first, the distance had been tolerable with the help of Nathaniel's throw, but the comfort quickly turned into teasing. The scent only became more of a reminder of what I was missing, the fabric practically goading me to race upstairs and burrow under the Lord's covers. To wrap myself in his arms under every inch of our skin was touching, and only then would I find true peace.

My only consolation was Nathaniel's admittance that sleeping without me had been difficult for him too, and considering how much more of the bond he felt than me, I was surprised he hadn't marched downstairs and carried me off himself. That was one aspect of his stubbornness that I could be grateful for, at least, and that was the fact that I knew he was waiting for me to come to him.

If I could only hold off, if I could only prove that the bond didn't effect me then I would be able to fight off his claim. Except I couldn't fight it off.

I spent three miserable nights tossing and turning, followed by three days walking around half-dead from exhaustion. Nathaniel said nothing further to me about the bond, but he was always close by.

Even when I couldn't see him, I still somehow knew he was there, waiting and watching for me. He would appear suddenly and with a suspiciously casual air whenever I was alone with Samuel or Marcus, quickly barking out a task that they needed to complete that would turn their attention away from me. There was always a tenseness to him, carefully contained and hidden under his practiced air of control, but I could see it.

Thankfully, Nathaniel seemed to have no such jealousy towards Isa. I do not know what I would have done if he had chosen to isolate me completely, and I was still not convinced that he wouldn't do that eventually. My mind kept slipping back to that keyhole in the door, to the one that only he could lock.

By the time the fourth night came around, there wasn't much more I could take. I briefly managed to fall asleep, sheer exhaustion forcing my body to shut down, but my mind would not quiet even in slumber.

I dreamt I was floating in a dark pool, a cavern filled with murky water where the air was searing hot. The water was cool, but I couldn't remember how to swim, my limbs flailing until a pair of strong arms wrapped around me. I couldn't see his face, but I knew it was him—Nathaniel.

"I've got you, my darling," Nathaniel whispered in my ear as I leaned back into his hold, "I'll keep you safe." His tongue licked down the column of my throat, one of his arms shifting to hold me up by my thighs, pressing my aching cunt against his taut abs. I moaned, so loudly it echoed off of the cavern walls, only they weren't cavern walls, they were the walls of my room, and—

—I startled awake, slamming my hand over my mouth as I panted, trying to catch my breath. Isa shifted slightly in her sleep, but did not wake, and I collapsed back onto my pillow in relief. There was a sticky ache between my legs, and I was acutely aware of the wet spot I was sitting in.

I could't do this anymore.

I knew that I shouldn't go see him. I knew that I shouldn't go to the study, shouldn't curl up on the chaise as I had done before. There was no way I would be able to rise before Nathaniel and scamper away before he could see me, but sleeping alone was agony.

I wanted him, and the longer I stayed away, the more that wanting worsening. That was how I finally convinced myself to get up out of bed, blaming the worry that if I carried on like this that one day I would throw myself at him like a woman starved. I would share with him only the smallest parts of myself if it meant I could keep a clear head, and hopefully keep both of us sane.

Whereas there had been only darkness the last time I had stood outside of the Lord's study, this time there was a gentle glow of light peeking through the seam. It was soft enough to be coming from the fireplace, and I could only hope that it was the remnants of a fire still burning after Nathaniel had gone to bed. 

I was practically trembling as I opened the door, but for what reason I wasn't sure—desire, exhaustion, anticipation, fear—perhaps a mix of all of them together.

Inside the study, Nathaniel was waiting for me.

He sat perched on the edge of the chaise, stripped down to his breeches and undershirt. Gods he was gorgeous. The strings of his undershirt were unlaced just enough to reveal the hard swells of his pectorals and a dusting of dark chest hair that made me want to run my fingers through it.

A pot of tea sat on the table in front of him, an empty cup and saucer next to it. The previously empty chaise had been filled with pillows and soft blankets, its position tilted closer to the fireplace. The incredibly ornate piece of furniture had been turned into a cozy nest of sorts, a warm, safe haven that I was certain was filled with his scent.

"Hello, love," Nathaniel's voice was soft, his words filled with so much adoration it made my chest ache, "I've been waiting for you to come."

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