“Your heart.” Cold weighted his legs and feet, and his hands were already so numb the warmth of her own hand beneath his barely registered. His eyes slipped closed, too heavy to stay open any longer. He tried to pull more air into his lungs. To add more strength to his voice, but the words still came out grated. “Heal from your heart.”
An instant shift.
Warmth and light surging through him.
Movement sounded beside him. The soft whoosh of decomposing leaves beneath solid footsteps.
“Just like that.” Priest’s voice. Much closer than before. “Open to him. Guide the magic.”
The warmth grew. Blossomed into a commanding heat that threaded through every cell and sinew. His back bowed, drawn upward by a relentless force knotted squarely behind his sternum.
The bond.
Not fully formed, but stronger than he’d ever felt it. Pulsing and alive. Flooding him with strength.
The slow, aching throb beneath his wounds ebbed. Shifted to a stinging tightness. Air flooded his lungs and his eyes snapped open.
Katy stood near his feet, her pale face marked with wonder and a healthy amount of shock, but Priest crouched beside him, a pleased smile that bordered on smugness aimed at Elise. He splayed a hand on her back. “Breathe, Elise. He’s fine.”
Elise ignored him. Kept every shred of her attention focused on Tate’s torso as her trembling hands skimmed across the healed flesh, seemingly clueless to the fact that he was awake, aware and fully whole. “But what if I missed something? What if there’s something inside still bleeding?”
“Elise.”
At the sound of Tate’s voice, her head snapped up, her honey-gold hair loose around her tear-streaked face and her eyes wild with raw distress. She blinked over and over, as though her mind couldn’t quite grasp the reality of what she’d done. Her breaths came short and ragged, but otherwise she stayed locked in place, kneeling beside him with her torso protectively curved over his. “Tate?”
Odd. Seeing the blood smeared over his torso, he could understand the disbelief on her face, but despite the gruesome remnants of what had happened, he felt amazing. Fully recharged as though he’d rested for days. He pushed himself upright, braced himself on his knees in front of her and smoothed her hair away from her face. “You did it. I’m fine.” He guided one of her hands across his healed chest to just above his heart. “See? They’re gone.”
Lips parted, she scanned his face. Then his chest. The wildness in her gaze eased, but a distance replaced it. An almost dazed appearance as though the world around her had dimmed and she couldn’t find her bearings.
The bond between them vibrated with a frantic energy. A manic buzz with the discordant itch of a live wire. His coyote snarled and snapped, pacing and pushing for release. Tate gripped each side of her face and tried to get her to focus. “Elise?”
Her lips quivered, and a shiver snaked through her arms and torso. “Can’t...” She lifted her chin as though trying to stay above rising water. “Breathe.”
“Too much adrenaline.” In one fluid move, Priest stood and hauled her upright. “Tate, brace her from behind. She needs to shift.”
Tate shot to his feet and banded one arm around her waist and another around her shoulders, his own panic filling his head with a ragged drumbeat. “She can’t shift like this.” No one did their first time. Or their first ten tries.
“She’ll shift. You didn’t see her in the Otherworld. She’s a natural.” Priest got up close enough Elise couldn’t avoid his gaze. “Elise, look at me. Think about your companion. Remember when you merged. Call her.”
Elise opened her mouth, then closed it, the choking sound that eked up her throat enough to make Tate’s constrict in equal fashion.
“Dammit, Prima, look at me.” Priest punctuated the command with a firm grip on her chin and got nose to nose. “Reach for her. You want to breathe? Want the calm you can’t quite find? Let her through. Fly.”
Fly?
His mate had a bird for a companion?
The thoughts had no sooner zinged through his head than a brilliant emerald light blinded him, and the brush of soft feathers swept against his arms. From the center of the deep color a bird with a wingspan at least eight feet wide burst forth, its deep sable—almost black—body contrasted by its pristine white head.
An eagle.
A symbol of power and strength for their clan. A keenly insightful and courageous predator.
His mate.
As if it had heard his thoughts, the majestic creature’s cry rang out over the forest. Its powerful wings beat in bold, leisurely strokes that sent it careening nearly straight up into the cloudless skies.
“She’s beautiful.” Katy shielded her eyes from the sun and craned her head to watch the show taking place overhead, every dip and turn fluid and graceful.
“She earned every feather,” Priest said with a reverence and respect Tate had never heard spoken outside of reference to his mate.
But reverence and respect or not, Tate was done with spectators. Done with forcing undeserved hardships on his mate. She’d earned her magic. Donned her wings. And when she landed it would be with Tate and only Tate waiting. “Go.”
The harsh directive was the only one he’d ever dared utter to Priest his entire life, but in that second neither man nor beast cared. Elise was the only thing that mattered. Elise and making up for all the shit she’d endured since he’d left her last night at her back door.
Priest hung his head and rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth, trying unsuccessfully to hide the knowing smile on his face. “Right. I’d say you’ve earned that play.” He motioned Kateri closer and held up his arm to welcome her close. “Come on, mihara. Let Tate take care of his mate.”
“But what about her shift back?” She volleyed a clueless look between them. “Won’t she need help?”
Priest wrapped her up, squeezed her affectionately and kissed her temple. “I think you’ve forgotten the aftereffects of a first shift.”
Her eyes got big and cheeks flushed, memories of her own transition back to human form no doubt crashing in. “Oh.”
“Oh, indeed.” Priest chuckled and kissed her temple. “Besides that, her eagle’s not an alpha like your lion. By the time she lands, she’ll happily trade places if it means being with Tate.” He met Tate’s gaze, not bothering this time to hide his humor. “I take it you’ll want me to tell Jenny her daughter won’t be home tonight?”
Not tonight. Not ever if he had any say about it. And once he got Elise back in human form and pressed against him it was the second topic up for discussion. The first was groveling until she forgave him for participating in all that had happened today.
Rather than answer directly, he turned his gaze on the sky and marked Elise soaring in the distance. “We’ll be at the cabin.” With that he surrendered to the push from his companion, welcomed the stinging burn of the transition and loped into the forest after his mate.
Chapter Seventeen
Rich green treetops below her. A blanket of blue all around her, broken only by thin white wisps of clouds in the distance. The meandering, shallow beaches of Beaver Lake and the soft ripple of wind against its surface. Bits and pieces of one exceptional view. Intricate details Elise had only been able to take in one at a time on land, but could absorb as a whole from the air through her companion’s eyes. Could see and appreciate the beauty of the bigger picture from a fresh perspective.
Rather like her life.
She’d thought she’d understood where she was headed. Believed her time seeking help for the harsh experiences she’d endured in high school had shone an understanding to help her cope and grow. But until today, she really hadn’t had a clue. Hadn’t been able to truly grasp how she needed those lessons—every hardship and every tear—to make her who she was today. To prepare her for the broader lan
dscape of her life she’d yet to explore.
Below, a flash of gold, white and gray darted between the trees. A big coyote keeping pace with her travels and racing through the forest.
Tate.
The space behind her chest surged with a mix of exhilaration and worry. A silent communication within the strengthening bond she couldn’t deny anymore. The exhilaration pulsing through it she understood. Felt the answering rush from her own companion with each beat of her wings.
Freedom.
Not just from gravity, but from all the complexities of the human mind and the overanalysis it brought to every equation. In animal form she simply was. Existed and enjoyed every second one by one. Honored and abided by the instincts given to her by the Creator.
The worry, though...that part agitated her bird. Logically, her muted human thoughts could rationalize the reason for it. Knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that her mate was struggling with his part in how the last twenty-four hours had impacted her, but her eagle didn’t like it one bit. To her, what was done, was done. The raging fire was over. And while it had been excruciating at times and had left an indelible mark on her soul, she’d flown out stronger. Wiser. More confident as to what she was capable of and better prepared to face the next phase of her life.
Including her place as his mate.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, a sharp bark shot skyward.
Her heightened gaze sharpened in an instant, lasering in on Tate’s coyote in a mostly circular clearing with a manmade structure near the center. Compared to the other homes dotting the lake’s perimeter, this one was smaller. More cottage-size like so many of the bed-and-breakfasts Eureka Springs was known for, its simple black asphalt tile roof barely standing out among all the green that surrounded it.
The cabin.
Their cabin.
When it had earned that distinction she couldn’t say, but any doubts she’d had about spending her nights as well as her days with him were gone. Replaced with a resoluteness that resonated to the tip of each feather.
She banked left and circled toward the structure, letting out a cry of understanding as she did.
Funny. While soaring above Priest’s vast property, she’d had no concept of time. No need for it. Only knew that the sun had shifted well past its zenith and that her companion had been content to fly as long as she needed to find her center. But now, knowing Tate was waiting—knowing what she was about to fully step into—a new, uncompromising urgency pushed her faster.
The ground raced closer. The air sluiced between her feathers and her heart raced with the promise of what lay ahead. So many days and nights they’d played, each one with Tate slowly introducing her to touch and her sensuality. But not once had she felt this open. This safe and ready.
Her wings lifted on instinct, slowing her descent to the earth.
And then she was there. No more than fifteen feet from the front porch where Tate waited, his coyote already traded for flesh and blood male. Not one scratch marred his bare torso and the blood that had catapulted her so quickly to learn her magic was gone. His hair hung loose to his shoulders and his training pants hung low on his hips.
Her eagle fidgeted and ruffled its feathers.
“She doesn’t like being so low and exposed.” Tate ambled down the two steps from the raised entrance. Something black was gripped in one hand. A soft fabric. But between his tight grip and so much of his skin on display she couldn’t quite manage the curiosity to puzzle out what it was. “She guided you here though because she knows you need a good foundation to shift.”
Right. Before she could have what she wanted—what her past and consequent fears had kept from her until now—she’d have to cross one more bridge.
Tate stopped just over five feet away and crouched so his body no longer towered over her, the tight black bundle clasped loosely between his hands. “She knows the way back, but you’re the one who guides it. Feel for the path. The same one you felt in the Otherworld when she merged with you. The same as when you brought her to you today.”
No, not a path. At least that’s not how it had felt this morning. More like a tunnel minus the same gravitational pull as real life. Or a water slide at a near ninety-degree angle engulfed in a blinding light. Her companion had all but pushed through. Lifted up and burst forth without a beat of hesitation. But how was she supposed to do the same?
Her eagle let out a series of quick, high-pitched squawks and lifted her wings. Two halves. One whole.
Not a direct message, so much as a thought. Paired with a pressure that shouldn’t be possible without a corporeal form.
Follow.
A tingle blossomed behind the pressure. A borderline burn like when she’d spent too much time in the sun.
Two halves.
One whole.
Was it really that simple? A case of giving in to the push and trading places? Of moving with the subtle tug her companion had created?
She leaned into the sensation, leading with her heart. Welcomed it the same as she had her magic when healing Tate.
The burn escalated, singeing through her bodiless being with vicious snaps and crackles. Instinct urged her to step back. To play it safe.
Trust. Leap.
No more safe. Those days were over. She knew it. Her companion knew it. Envisioning the swoop and swirl of her first transition and the sweet flight as she’d ascended toward the sky, Elise surrendered to the pain. To the sting and the overpowering brightness beyond.
An emerald light embraced her. Swept her through the stinging pain with no heed for gravity.
Birdsong and the rustle of leaves in the trees above her.
Leaves and soil warmed by sun beneath her bare feet.
Sunlight and the sweet caress of a spring breeze against her still stinging skin.
Eyes closed, she tilted her head back and smiled to the skies, a silent thank-you to her companion for her guidance as she soaked up each heightened sensation.
“You did good.”
At the sound of Tate’s voice, she opened her eyes, eager to share her own delight.
Her words dried up at the sight of him. Still crouched as he’d been before, now his head was down, his gaze firmly rooted on the ground in front of his feet. He held up one hand, offering the folded black fabric. “I thought you might want this.”
Not fabric.
A T-shirt.
Because she was naked.
So thrilled with her transition and the sensations that had welcomed her back from her spirit form, she’d missed it entirely.
But Tate had known what to expect. Known and anticipated her anxiety the way he always seemed to and had been prepared to ease it.
She crept forward, stopping only when her shins were inches from his bowed head and her feet were in his direct line of sight. She covered his outstretched hand with one of her own and combed her fingers through the hair at the top of his head with the other. “You’re always looking out for me.”
The muscles along the back of his neck and shoulders tensed and he waggled the bundle for her attention. “Take it, Elise.”
Such strain in his voice. Fighting his desires and natural instincts—for her. Releasing his hand, she dragged the T-shirt from his grip. “Thank you for taking care of me.” She dropped the shirt at his feet. “But I don’t need it.”
His hands fisted near his feet and the rest of his body went so still he seemed more like a sculpture locked on a supplicant pose than the alpha she knew him to be. “You don’t have to rush anything with me, Elise. I can wait.”
“Tate.” Just his name on her lips felt different. More potent. A key to the first step in the rest of her life. “I’ve waited long enough. For everything.”
His hands shifted to her ankles, the touch a mix of deep respect and stark need barely contained. “I hurt you.”
&nb
sp; The healing.
Of course, that would be the first thing on his mind. Especially with how hard the experience had hit her emotionally. Mates were wired to protect each other. Not actively participate in anything that caused them pain. But he’d done it to help her.
“You did. But you helped me, too. Got me across a bridge that could have taken forever to cross. Now I’m asking you to walk me across another one.”
He growled and tightened his grip, the barely leashed strength behind the touch a stunning promise of what was to come. “Elise...”
A warning.
A plea.
“Look at me, Tate. I’m ready.” For him. For what they could be to each other. Whatever that looked like.
He sucked in a slow, deep breath, the raspy sound of it as sensual as the glide of his rough fingertips across her sensitized skin. Up, up, up his palms went. Along the outside of her calves, over her knees and up her thighs. His gaze followed. Achingly slow. Consuming every inch at a delectably languid pace. Her sex. Her belly. Her breasts. Then finally her eyes.
No censure.
No judgment.
No leering or calculated gleams.
Just wonder and deep appreciation. A man looking on a gift and heartily accepting what he’d been given.
And damned if it wasn’t intoxicating. Liberating and compelling all in one visual stroke.
He palmed her hips and rolled to his knees. “My mate.” His fingers dug into her flesh, but the kiss he pressed just below her sternum was pure reverence. A vow and a claim all in one. His warm breath danced against her skin and the soft tickle of his beard sent delicate tremors fanning down her belly. “So beautiful.” Sliding his hands around her, he pulled her flush against him, one hand anchored high on her ass and the other smoothing up her spine. He pressed his forehead against her. “Elise...” He lifted his head and met her gaze, frustration and worry warring behind his eyes. “Sweetheart, if you’re not ready for more, you need to tell me. Now.”
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