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He’d wanted her to say it, to feel it, because he loved her.

When had that happened? He thought back over the course of the last few days, but he really had no fucking clue. There was no single moment that stood out to him more than others—they were all playing through his mind, all equally amazing.

Maybe that first day, when she stood up to him. Maybe when she flirted with him the first time. Maybe when he took her for a ride on his bike. Hell, maybe it was when she was pissed the fuck off at him and he thought he might have lost her over a misunderstanding.

The only thing he was fairly positive of was that it happened before he found out she was his mate.

It might be another thing that wasn’t all that manly, but he hoped she loved him back, or could grow to love him. He was thankful as fuck that his mate was someone he loved, though.

Having a mate and also loving them weren’t mutually inclusive. Having one didn’t mean a shifter was guaranteed to have the other. They could love as many as they wanted, but there would only ever be one true mate for them.

And having a mate didn’t mean they’d love them. The animal chose the mate, knowing instinctively who their best match was. The human fell in love with them—or not.

He’d known a few shifters who didn’t love their mates. They were compatible, of course. Their animals never would have chosen them if they weren’t. And they were always attracted to each other.

But compatibility and attraction by no means equaled love.

He was grateful his mate was someone he loved. It just didn’t mean she’d love him in return.

His eyes grew heavy, the exhaustion he felt overpowering his thoughts, even though they were important. Just as he drifted off, he decided it didn’t matter if she didn’t love him.

Because he was going to focus all his energy and effort into making sure he did all he could to give her every reason and opportunity to love him. If she never did, he’d learn to live with it, and just be grateful that he had her in his life. But he was going to give his all to making it happen.

He drifted off after that, but he didn’t think he’d been out long when he was suddenly jolted out of a sound sleep. He blinked, frowning into the darkness, wondering what had woken him up.

Get up. Now, he lion hissed.

Panic filled him and he immediately looked for Tarun. She’d moved away a little in her sleep, but he could see her breathing steadily and evenly. Relief filled him and he was just beginning to relax back into the mattress when he saw her frown, her nose twitching.

“What is that?” she whispered groggily, not bothering to open her eyes. “Is that smoke?”

He frowned harder, sniffing the air and sitting up sharply in the bed when he smelled it. It was smoke, and a lot of it, judging by how strong the smell was.

Get her the hell out of the building NOW, his animal roared.

“Fuck! Tarun, get up, now,” he ordered, raising his voice as he shot out of the bed.

She mumbled under her breath as he searched for his jeans and yanked them on. Looking frantically around, he spotted a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt draped on a chair and thrust them at her just as she sat up.

“Luke? What’s going on?”

Finding his shoes, he thrust his feet inside them as he looked at her with concern. She was far too groggy and out of it. He might have to drape a blanket around her and make a run for it.

“There’s a fire. We have to get out of here, now. You have to get dressed.”

To her credit, her eyes cleared of sleep quickly, and, looking far more alert than she had just moments ago, she shot to her feet and started pulling her clothes on.

“Where’s it at, do you know?” she asked as she frantically pulled her sports bra over her head, immediately yanking a shirt and the pants on.

“I don’t know; I haven’t looked. I just know we need to get out of here as quickly as we can.”

Before he’d finished talking, he’d tossed the pair of flip flops he’d spotted at her, thinking they’d be faster than her boots or sneakers.

She didn’t bat an eyelash, just shoved her feet in them at the same time she pulled the hair tie off her wrist and threw her long locks up in a messy bun. Snatching up a blanket, he walked to the door, cautiously opening it, knowing any influx of air would feed a fire.

“Is that wise? Bringing a flammable blanket near fire?” she asked, snatching up her purse and a jacket.

“It’s for you. If the fire’s too thick for you to walk through, I’m going to wrap you up in it and make a run for it.”


Tags: Grace Brennan Paranormal