Untamed Mate (Feral Shifters 2)

The rocky path takes us upward at a forty-degree angle for several moments, then ends at a crack on the edge of the rising cliff. It’s a tight fit, and the rocks scratch my skin through my smoky fur, but I burst out on the other side and fall into a steady run in the opposite direction from where I scented Amora. We race up the mountainside, putting distance between us and our onetime mate.

When I’m a good distance away, I halt on an outcropping of rocks that looks down over the crevice. Amora is in wolf form at the edge of the crevice, her nose to the ground, her hackles rippling, her tail wagging furiously. Her wolf is as beautiful as her human form: dark chocolate fur, those shrewd green eyes, a lithe and muscular body.

As I watch, she drops to her belly and peers into the darkness below. If she’s as good at tracking as I think she is, she’ll know that our scents end there without having to go down into the crevice. She’ll likely guess what happened, and she’ll be correct.

After a few moments, she stands. Magic ripples over her body, and she shifts to human form, dropping the large pack she’s been carrying as she walks away from the crevice. Sunlight dapples the clearing, glowing off her pale skin. Every beautiful inch of her body is on display—forbidden fruit that I can’t touch.

Her shoulders sag suddenly, and she rests a hand against the nearest tree before sinking down to the grass. Kneeling on the ground, she runs a hand through her long dark hair, brushing it over her shoulder as she gazes around. Her green eyes flash in the sunlight, and then she sits on her heels and bows her upper body forward, curling up and resting her face in her hands.

I don’t need the mate bond to sense her pain. It’s telegraphed in the very line of her body.

I’ve never seen Amora so vulnerable.

My chest aches. Something inside me responds to her pain, although it can’t be the mate bond. Empathy? Maybe. Not that I’ve ever thought I had that to begin with. Affection for her as a person? Sure. She’s impressive.

But it feels more than that.

The three of us stand there watching her, unseen, for much longer than we should. Finally, I brush off my conflicted feelings and shake out my fur, shooting a glance over at Frost and Malix.

Let’s go, I tell them. There’s nothing for us here.

Then I wheel around and take off into the wilderness, my brothers at my heels.