The Wolf Lord's Mate

Chapter Thirty-Four

"Mira?" Nathaniel's voice was husky and soft.

"Mmm?" I murmured.

"Would you—" There was a pause, and I opened my eyes to glance over at him. It was a mistake. Gods was it a mistake. Nathaniel had been respectful in maintaining the distance that I had placed between us, but it was no greater than the length of a single pillow. His tousled chestnut hair was splayed and messy, his eyes half-heavy with sleep, his arm slung back behind his head. Nathaniel had never looked as handsome as he did in that single moment, so vulnerable and beautiful.

"Would I what?" I whispered, although there was no reason to keep my voice low. It simply felt right somehow. Being there alone together in the dark, it was as though we were sharing some intimate secret, some hidden space forming between us that only we could fill. But every ounce of comfort that it brought also carried a spike of fear.

I do not know if there had ever been a place where I truly felt that I belonged, but I had always imagined that I would build it someday for myself. My own little shop somewhere where I could sew whatever I pleased for whomever I pleased. I did not want my sense of belonging to be tied to a Wolf, a male—anyone. I deserved to have the chance to try and do things on my own, and be my own person in a world where I did not have to fight everyday simply to survive. And yet—

Nathaniel was the reason I no longer had to struggle for food or warmth. He had given me every small comfort I could have wanted without me ever having to ask him for it. Had I simply been kidding myself, thinking that I was so much stronger than I am, when in reality I was still that scared, hungry little girl from the Alleys wishing for Mother to come home. I had spent so many lonely nights on my own, lying by myself in the dark, crying myself to sleep and wishing for someone to rescue me. Only no one ever came, and I had to learn how to rescue myself.

Nathaniel's expression was tender, but eager, like a child desperate to please.

"Would you be alright if I held you?"

My whole body tensed at his request, and I know Nathaniel could tell, "Only for a little while," Nathaniel shifted onto his side, his fingers tracing the edge of the pillow, "And nothing else. I could wrap my arms around you, or you could lay your head on my chest, if that would be better? I just—I..."

Nathaniel's emerald eyes searched mine before squeezing shut. "Every time I see you, I am desperate to touch you. In every way a male would touch a female, yes, but in all the simple ways too. To hold your hand, and stroke your cheek, and play with your hair. To press my hand to your waist and hold you tight against me."

My breath quickened with every word, his low voice rumbling like a confession in the dark of the night. It was not arousal that overtook me there in his presence, but an odd yearning. An urge to relish in the acts he described, to simply feel safe and warm in his arms.

I shifted slightly towards him, and Nathaniel's breath caught in his throat. Once more I felt it, the power is his desperate need for me and my approval.

"I could lay my head on your chest." My words were tentative, but even I could not deny the odd longing that awoke inside of me at the prospect of touching him. Nathaniel nodded, shifting onto his back, raising a strong arm for me to nuzzle under it. The excitement in his eyes was just barely concealed by his steady gaze, and he looked at me with the hesitation one givens to a frightened deer, as if any wrong move might cause it to run away.

I knew that I would have more control in laying on his chest than in another position, at least. I did not want to find myself locked between his arms or trapped beneath him, and I did my best to ignore the tingling between my legs as both of those images raced through my mind.

So slowly—painfully slowly, I inched over to Nathaniel, gently resting my head on the side of his chest, my hand awkwardly hovering above his abs. "You can touch me." Nathaniel's voice rumbled in my ear, the low noise vibrating through his chest and into my body, shooting down to my core. One arm came to rest at my waist, holding me against him, and the other claimed my hovering hand, pressing it against his toned stomach.

My heart was thundering in my chest, and I desperately tried to calm my breathing. "Your heart is pounding, little mate," Nathaniel rubbed soothing circles on my back, "You do not have to worry when you are with me. I will keep you safe, I promise."

But can you keep me safe from you? I didn't dare say it out loud, but Nathaniel's gentle touches did begin to calm me. He moved his hand up to my hair, smoothing and stroking it as my breathing slowed, my shoulders loosing their tension as I relaxed into his chest.

Cinnamon and cloves surrounded me, the scent potent and straight from the source. It swallowed me, surrounding me in a wave of calm as I fell asleep in Nathaniel's arms.

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