She kissed him back with equal passion, her tongue bold against his. Oh, he loved it, the greedy way she nipped at him, the little, breathy sounds of unabashed pleasure he drew from her, everything.
He found the curve of her waist, drawing her tighter against his body. She pressed against him without hesitation, every lush curve setting fire to his blood. Her strong arms wound around his neck—
Angus barked, sharp and annoyed.
Tamsin stiffened in his arms. She tore herself free, stepping back.
“I, I’m so sorry!” she said, flushed and breathless. “I, uh, don’t know what came over me.”
“I do.” The words came out as rather more of a growl than he intended. His bestial instincts boiled under his skin, as though he was about to shift. “We are fated mates. The closer we are, the more we are drawn together.”
Tamsin cast him a rather strained-looking smile, taking another step back. “Well, good thing we brought a chaperone, then.” She bent to ruffle Angus’s ears. “Silly boy. There’s no need to be jealous.”
At that moment, Cuan fervently disagreed.
Angus locked eyes with him, as though divining the frustrated nature of his thoughts. His tongue lolled out in a smug canine grin. Very deliberately, never breaking eye-contact, the dog licked Tamsin’s hand. The animal could not have more clearly declared MINE if he had lifted a leg and urinated on her.
This is going to be a problem.
Jaw clenching, Cuan thrust down an urge to shift into wolf form. He could hardly challenge a creature that he could squash with a single paw. Even if Angus was radiating enough insouciant swagger for an entire pack of hellhounds.
Still, Angus’s intervention was not entirely misplaced. Much as Cuan burned with desire, he didn’t want Tamsin to be dragged into his arms purely by the force of the mate attraction. If he allowed her to succumb to her body’s silent urges while her mind still hesitated, he truly would be a beast. It would be a grave offense against nature itself, a perversion of everything that was sacred.
He wanted more than a moment of fleeting pleasure followed by her unending regret. He wanted her, that sparkling mind and forceful spirit, all of her.
Even if it could only be for…however long they had. A week, a day, a single hour. If she came to him, he would treasure every single second…but only if she did so joyously, with a whole heart, of her own free will.
But she cannot,his conscience whispered. She is chained to you, and not of her own volition. Were she not bound by the tithe-curse, she would never even look at you.
It seemed to be his day for unwelcome thoughts. He thrust this one too into the increasingly crowded box at the back of his mind, closing it firmly.
He stood up, adjusting his leather trousers as politely as he could manage. “You too are wearied and dusty. You should bathe in the springs. The citrine pool in particular is renowned for bringing peace to a troubled mind.”
“I could do with some of that,” Tamsin admitted. She tugged at the collar of her rather stained and crumpled shirt, nose wrinkling. “Even a non-magical bath would be great.”
He bowed, gathering up his armor as he did so. “I shall give you some privacy, but I shall not be far away. If you need me, I will come.”
“I know,” she said softly. “I do know that, at least.”
He hesitated, looking back at her. Some of the defensive wariness had left her stance, but her expression was conflicted.
“Tamsin,” he said, voice roughening despite his best efforts. “As I said, I do not want you to tell me all your secrets. Just promise me that you will never hesitate to call on me. I will always help you, in whatever way you need, no matter my own hopes or dreams. Trust me in that, if no further.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, looking away. And said nothing.