Chosen

44

I wasn't out for long.

I knew this from two things. One, my body still ached, as if it still needed sleep and rest to recover, and my momentary reprieve from consciousness was not enough to heal even the most minor of muscle cramps. And two, Kent was still carrying me.

I'm sure he was trying to be careful, but in his haste to get me to the base camp, he ran, jostling me in his arms. It hurt my already sore muscles, but I bit my tongue against complaining. If I asked him to walk gentler, we'd go slower. And if I asked him to put me down so I could walk, we'd also have to move slower.

I needed to move fast. Slow wasn't going to save anyone from a potential war.

It was fate, really, that I'd have run into Kent. I never would have recognized the base camp otherwise. Having never been to one myself, at least not in White Moon, I wasn't really sure what to expect. I had simply assumed the camps would be generic wooden sheds.

Goddess, was I wrong.

The camps were expertly camouflaged to fit in with the marshland. What looked like a giant shrub or mossy hill was really the shed that housed some necessary equipment for the border patrol, and I only recognized it when the concealed door opened and one large, angry Lycan walked out.

Rykor.

His glare softened when he saw my muddied form in Kent's arms, then turned frantic as he rushed towards us. The river stream was so loud in my ears I could barely hear him as he called my name. He plucked me gently from the older Lycan's grasp and held me to him, breathing in my scent just as I did his.

His lips hit mine, salty and sweet and hard and soft all at once. My hands grasped at his hair, holding him to me, afraid that if he moved back even an inch, we'd be separated again. It wasn't until he pulled away from our kiss to wipe my cheeks that I even realized I was crying.

The salt I'd tasted had been my tears. That loud rushing, which I had thought was the river, was my sobbing breath.

But none of that mattered when I saw his eyes, beautiful and clear and glistening just like mine.

Rykor was crying.

I placed my hands along his face, bringing his forehead to mine. His long, dark hair fell around us, shading us from prying eyes. There was no shame in a male showing his emotions, but Alphas were to be strong, resilient, and none more so than my Mate. I knew he would be upset if his pack members saw his tears, and so I hid them for him, clutching his face to mine and crying enough that no one would think the scent of salt water came from anyone but me.

The love and reverence shining in Rykor's eyes let me know that he knew what I was doing.

"Lahla, my Rhena, my Mate..." Over and over he murmured the sweet words to me, still clutching my body to his. I'd made a mess of him, just as much as I'd made a mess of myself. But neither of us seemed to care. We were together, and safe, and whole. That's what mattered.