Page 16 of Damian
“I suspect some of these women will run out here into your arms the second they learn of their freedom. Yet there are others whose terror will rule them. We cannot risk immediate rejection before they’ve had time to heal and process. Last thing we need is another group of feral monsters because their mate didn’t want them. The heifers and Damian will enter.”
Jayce and the other mate rush to object.
Willow holds her hand up. “Don’t make me seal your mouths shut too. Damian will call for help if he needs you. These women and children don’t know what a good, decent man is. If I knew with a hundred percent certainty that the place was empty of men, Damian would remain out here as well.”
The two men bowed their heads in respect toward Willow, but clearly weren’t happy with her decision.
“As I was saying before these two interrupted.”
I laugh internally at the witch’s bravery. We outnumber her, yet she’s confident in her powers to stand against all of us.
“You may enter, only with your mate’s permission.”
“How will we know whose mate is giving consent?” Isaak wonders aloud what we’re all thinking.
“Give me some credit. Do I look like I was born yesterday?” She didn’t answer his question.
Her husband hands her his pocketknife, which she slices across her palm. “Peter, you first.”
He kneels before her and opens his palm, accepting the knife she offers. “I accept your terms, Willow Wardwell, defender of my mate.”
Isaak sinks to his knees after Peter.
The witch releases the spell holding our mouths shut as we follow, one after the other.
“Frank.” Willow calls to the one who resembles Peter. Being siblings means their father must be human.
The older sibling stands before her. “Enter with the group. Emjay will show you where to find the bones. I need only one from the body. If there’s more than one body, one bone from each.”
He nods.
My anxiety doesn’t care about whose bones they might be.
I pace outside for hours. My bull won’t rest any more than my human side could.
I stop the moment I feel my mate drawing near. Three women emerge from the portal. I pay no mind to which man runs to the woman with a baby on her hip and holding the hand of a toddler.
Nor do I care about the one with a screaming infant strapped to her back.
I only have my sights on the woman swollen with child. My child. Her eyes scan the group until they lock with mine. In that moment, everything else fades away.
I resist the urge to run and gather her in my arms. She stares at me cautiously. My heart pounds and I tremble, waiting for a signal, any signal that I’m welcome to approach.
Sapphire irises look deep into my soul, followed by a grin that could melt a heart of stone. That’s my signal.
With caution, I move toward her. “Charis.” I awkwardly introduce myself.
“I’m Vasia,” she tells me while rubbing her belly with our child inside.
Seeing my mate with child, my child, fills me with a sense of purpose that I’ve never known. The rage and frustration that has fueled me for days melts away, replaced by a profound sense of love and responsibility. As I kneel before her, I vow to protect and cherish her and our unborn child for the rest of my life. This was our new beginning, and I would not squander it.
I hold my hands over her belly. “May I?”
She nods, then I fall to my knees and kiss her womb. I look up into her beautiful eyes. “I will treasure you both all of my days, if you will let me.”
Vasia’s smile deepens. “Take me far from here.”
I stand, take her by the hand, and lead her home.