He walked a brisk pace with a line of worry pinched firmly in his dark brows. She had become a constant presence again, never so far that he could not find her or call for her. Sometimes, she would leave for the field or meadow or anywhere at all that she wished, but she had always returned. Always.
Until now.
Two days. Nearly two days now that she'd been gone. He moved for the forest's border, his chest and shoulders tight with tension. What could have kept her from coming home? What could have happened to her? She was strong, quick. She could fight or run from trouble. She was so powerful, too. Could easily incinerate a number of attackers at once if she must, singe their skin and melt their intentions. Nothing could have kept her from coming home.
So he settled himself to wait. To watch. To worry and stress. Waiting for her return as still as a sentry, staring out toward the forest and praying she would show. And when she finally did, she was so quiet, her steps light and careful, deliberately placed. Her eyes and ears searched the area vigilantly as she continued further. He was washed with relief at the sight of her, a river of cool, and calm, and grateful. So grateful that she was safe after all, and the tension melted away from his back and shoulders, his eyes softened.
"Jinju," he called quietly, the relief clear in his voice as she walked straight for him. She hadn't noticed him yet as she focused on the forest to the sides of her, searching for others. But as she startled to a stop before him, he caught her scent, saw the sweaty marks at her sides where someone had held her beneath them.
His eyes glowed with an instant, frozen fury. The temperature dropped so suddenly from his wild magic that the ground at his feet illuminated with a glittering frost as the forest around him seemed suddenly darker. What selfish bastard would take her against her will, force themselves and their desires on her? He stood still and rigid as he stared at her, hot breath steaming from flared nostrils like some furious hellbeast, nearly growling like the wolf he used to be. He wanted to comfort her, tell her it would be okay, but he was so deep into his anger that stepping forward would appear aggressive.
And then..
He realized her behavior that he'd so quickly dismissed in his relief at seeing her safe and home at last. The way she had returned in stealth, watching for anyone that might witness her sneaking home. His jaw clenched against a new hurt he had no name for as he stared into her face, his brows still tightly furrowed.
"What have you done," he said in a deadly quiet, his voice harder than he'd meant it to be. The smell of sex on her burned in his nose, singed his heart. She was an adult, he kept reminding himself. An adult. Old enough to do these things. No longer his little girl, but a woman grown now. But he hadn't seen it coming, wasn't aware that she held any interest for anyone. With his marriage to Reagan, surely it meant more to her than just a night of fun? That thought burned another deeper, wider hole in his heart, flaring and quickly growing, taking him over in its destruction.
A night of fun.
A night of fun.
He swallowed, shut her out from the fresh pain bleeding into his eyes as he closed them. His head shook slowly and he forced himself to breathe more evenly, the line of his body wilting in defeat. "I'm sorry," he murmured, low and gravelly. He didn't open his eyes as he continued, just as quietly. "Are you happy?" Because that's all that really mattered: her happiness.
Until now.
Two days. Nearly two days now that she'd been gone. He moved for the forest's border, his chest and shoulders tight with tension. What could have kept her from coming home? What could have happened to her? She was strong, quick. She could fight or run from trouble. She was so powerful, too. Could easily incinerate a number of attackers at once if she must, singe their skin and melt their intentions. Nothing could have kept her from coming home.
So he settled himself to wait. To watch. To worry and stress. Waiting for her return as still as a sentry, staring out toward the forest and praying she would show. And when she finally did, she was so quiet, her steps light and careful, deliberately placed. Her eyes and ears searched the area vigilantly as she continued further. He was washed with relief at the sight of her, a river of cool, and calm, and grateful. So grateful that she was safe after all, and the tension melted away from his back and shoulders, his eyes softened.
"Jinju," he called quietly, the relief clear in his voice as she walked straight for him. She hadn't noticed him yet as she focused on the forest to the sides of her, searching for others. But as she startled to a stop before him, he caught her scent, saw the sweaty marks at her sides where someone had held her beneath them.
His eyes glowed with an instant, frozen fury. The temperature dropped so suddenly from his wild magic that the ground at his feet illuminated with a glittering frost as the forest around him seemed suddenly darker. What selfish bastard would take her against her will, force themselves and their desires on her? He stood still and rigid as he stared at her, hot breath steaming from flared nostrils like some furious hellbeast, nearly growling like the wolf he used to be. He wanted to comfort her, tell her it would be okay, but he was so deep into his anger that stepping forward would appear aggressive.
And then..
He realized her behavior that he'd so quickly dismissed in his relief at seeing her safe and home at last. The way she had returned in stealth, watching for anyone that might witness her sneaking home. His jaw clenched against a new hurt he had no name for as he stared into her face, his brows still tightly furrowed.
"What have you done," he said in a deadly quiet, his voice harder than he'd meant it to be. The smell of sex on her burned in his nose, singed his heart. She was an adult, he kept reminding himself. An adult. Old enough to do these things. No longer his little girl, but a woman grown now. But he hadn't seen it coming, wasn't aware that she held any interest for anyone. With his marriage to Reagan, surely it meant more to her than just a night of fun? That thought burned another deeper, wider hole in his heart, flaring and quickly growing, taking him over in its destruction.
A night of fun.
A night of fun.
He swallowed, shut her out from the fresh pain bleeding into his eyes as he closed them. His head shook slowly and he forced himself to breathe more evenly, the line of his body wilting in defeat. "I'm sorry," he murmured, low and gravelly. He didn't open his eyes as he continued, just as quietly. "Are you happy?" Because that's all that really mattered: her happiness.