The Sanction by Reeyce Smythe Wilder Page B

undertone, breathing hard. To his left,
Amarinda trembled violently. In the scuffle, she had lost her fur.
She touched her fingers to the lips that were being bitten
mercilessly. The Hunters backed away. Her father looked at her,
distressed. Even across the distance, Graeme could see that he
fought the flood of tears that made his smoldering gaze
glassy.
    “ Papa…” she whimpered. He
turned away and, assisted by another, made his way, limping up the
hill.
    “ Rhys!” Graeme heard him
approach from the sidelines. “See them off.”
    Rhys gestured to the others, rumbled a
command and was followed on silent feet. Graeme, temper somewhat
dampened now that she was at his side, directed his attention
toward her. She stood unmoving, considering the Hunters as they
became lost in the darkness. One of the Weres brought the horse
forward. Graeme mounted, more man now than beast. He offered his
hand in expectation, and felt, for the first time in his life
butterflies erupt within his stomach when she took it.
     
     
     

Chapter Nine
    She could not stop shaking. The route
to the stronghold through the secured mountain pass was isolated.
He drove the mount on violently, her mate. In his body, she felt
tension and anger rage, like the threat of a devastating explosion.
Whether from the coldness, her heartache or the raw energy he
emitted, she trembled.
    By the time they made it into one of
the baileys at the back of the fortress, she was numb from head to
toe. Someone came forward to attend to the mount. He slipped to his
feet in a flash and collected her into his arms. Amarinda felt
tears burn her eyes. The effort to control the desperation for
release weakened her. With urgency, he took to the gate and narrow
staircase. Too distraught to observe exactly where they were, she
sank her fingers into the material of his shirt and allowed the
first racking whimper to seize her body. There came an impatient
growl from his throat as he hustled toward the familiar door. After
two attempts to lift the latch on the bolt, he finally succeeded.
She was taken to the bed and deposited there.
    Amarinda’s cries were loud and
unnerving. She heard the definite slam of the door, felt the heat
of the fire as he added tinder there. She would never again be
welcomed in the Coven, would never again see love shine from her
fathers’ face. Her decision to stay had wounded them deeply. What
madness had compelled her to choose him? What had she done? To
betray the Coven, the Elder, was an act of treason! Grasping, she
struggled to contain her panicked breaths and failed
miserably.
    “ Stop weeping,” he said
gruffly. “You are safe – the babe is safe. Why do you cry
so?”
    She buried her face in her hands and
curled into a tight ball. He kicked off his boots. Amarinda heard
them hit the cold floor. When the strength of his arms snaked
around her to pull her close, she had not the resolve to move away.
He smelled comforting, and the security she felt locked against his
massive chest vanquished the demons that threatened to snatch her
reason.
    For a long time, neither of them
exchanged words. Amarinda’s cries died to nothing but a sniffle.
She exhaled and shuddered exhaustedly, then turned to face him. The
dancing firelight cast his profile in planes and shadows. His eyes
locked on hers. Everything within her felt vulnerable. He had
offered her sanctuary. Before his men and the Hunters, he had
referred to her as his mate. A light of hope ignited in her chest,
and was stomped out just as quickly – he had said nothing of
marking her. Eyes swollen, her gaze was cast aside.
    “ My family hates me. I am
embarrassment to my race…I can never return to them.” Her voice was
hoarse. He grunted in agreement. “I have lost
everything.”
    Ever so slightly, his grip tightened.
Amarinda stiffened. There was no use in denying the obvious – she
was in love with him. She was bound to him, not only because of
their mating, but because of the tender moments