Under the Weeping Tree - Part 2

ELRETH

She'd been so completely confused—raging angry, but utterly confused. What had driven him to this. What did he want?!

Then he stared at her and his scent changed. Which only confused her more, until something flashed behind his eyes. Something she'd only ever seen in her father's face. When he was staring at her mother.

Desperation. Joy. Hunger.

But that was crazy, why would—?

And suddenly, like a cub tumbling down a grassy hill to land on its feet, everything fell into place.

Everything.

Her mouth dropped open. She blinked. And blinked again. And for the first time in a very long time, she looked at him.

Not at her confidante.

Not at her closest ally.

Not at the friend who'd been present for every major milestone in her life.

She looked at Aaryn. The male. The wolf.

She stared at his silver-white hair, always a touch too long, but always clean. It scattered over his forehead and, right now, with his chin down and his ice-blue eyes fixed on her, it created a barrier between them.

She looked at the strength in his jaw, now scattered with a shadow because of the late hour and her fingers twitched to touch it, to see how his stubble felt—was it prickly, or soft?

She let her gaze drift down his neck, the strong cords of tendons that drew lines to his collarbones because he held himself so tense. His broad shoulders hiding everything behind him unless she went on her tiptoes.

The divot between his collarbones. The wide, smooth expanse of his chest, rising and falling rapidly, and—hidden by the white shirt he wore—she let herself remember the ladders of muscle that painted his torso. The trim waist and thick muscles of his legs now swathed in his leathers, but she'd seen every inch of him at some point.

Well, almost.

Her mouth went dry.

Mentally fleeing from the thought—and the feelings it brought that she didn't understand—Elreth scanned all the way to his bare feet, his toes curling into the dirt because he was a fighter, holding his weight ready, then she scanned back up.

And he never moved. Never said a word. He just locked his eyes on her and waited, his arms at his sides, but tense, fingers clenched, like he was bracing against anticipated pain.

From her?

She swallowed when she saw the tendons and veins popping out on his forearms. It reminded her of her father's strong arms… but in a way that had nothing to do with her father at all.

Not even close.

She blinked, but her gaze didn't waver. She closed her mouth, opened it again, then closed it again. "But… you haven't… we've never even talked about… you mated other females!" Her mouth was so dry it was difficult to speak.

"Not by my choice, Elreth," he rasped and his voice held something—a yearning that she'd never heard before.

And a spark flared to flame, deep in her chest.

*****

AARYN

She was staring at his arms when she swallowed and tried to speak. And he couldn't hold it back anymore. It was out there now. So when he spoke, it was pure truth.

"Not by my choice, Elreth." The words were torn from his throat in an aching rasp.

Then her eyes snapped to his, and he saw something flare to life in them. And the part of him that had always loved her, that had desired her since her first breeding season, that had ached for her—yearned to touch her, to show her—that part of him dropped its head back and howled.

Something crackled between them and he didn't even think. He stepped into her, one hand at her neck, the other at her waist and he pulled her close, into a punishing kiss.

And when she opened her mouth under his and he tasted her for the first time, it threatened to unhinge him.

They both sucked in hard.

His hands were shaking, but he knew this was his chance. His one shot. If he didn't awaken something within her now, he likely never could.

So with a hurried prayer sent skyward, he pulled her in until they touched from chest to knee, and he kissed her as he had never kissed another.

He traced her lips with his own, featherlight, and stroked her cheek with his thumb as he tangled their tongues briefly, lightly, dancing away with his almost immediately.

She sucked in again, but she leaned into him and he felt the goosebumps pebble her skin under his hand. And with a quiet sigh, she wrapped her arms around his neck and instinctively pressed her hips into him.

He kissed her harder, plunged deeper, his breath already thundering. But her fingers were in his hair, and every nerve in his skin sparkled, peppering him with goosebumps too as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss again and pulled her in until she was arching back under him. She arched so far back, he had to step her backwards or they'd fall.

Tempting as it was to picture laying with her, tangling their limbs as well as their tongues, he knew this was so new, so unexpected for her, he had to step with care.

And so, despite the trembling within him, he didn't move to touch her, only walked her backwards, step by slow step, until they reached the trunk of the great tree and he braced an arm to it, pressing her into it.

She rippled against him and Aaryn had to bite back a huff, a deep and resonant call he'd never made, always hoped, but…

Dear Lord, she had no idea what she did to him.

None.