Guardian's Mate - Page 72/91

Rae laughed languidly at him as her head touched the pillows, one finger coming up to brush his face. Zander realized before he crashed down beside her and headed for oblivion, that she was wiping away his tears.

* * *

When Zander peeled open his eyes, the sun had moved, his throat was raw, and every part of him was sore. Rae lay beside him, stretched out on her side as she watched him, a half-full glass of wine in her graceful hand.

“Are you back with me?” She smiled down at him then took a sip of the bloodred wine. “I was trying to decide whether to eat all the food or be nice and leave you some.”

“Eat it,” Zander said, his voice a croak. “I’ll live on being with you.”

Rae’s gray eyes lit with amusement. “That will only last until you get hungry. Here, have a cracker.” She shoved a piece of flatbread spread with herbed cheese into his mouth.

Zander’s throat closed up but he managed to chew and swallow, then take the wineglass she lifted from the nightstand and held out to him. He gulped wine, refraining from coughing, then set down the glass and wiped his mouth.

“Did it work?” he asked. He gestured to the towel-draped sword. “Did it go back together?”

“I don’t know,” Rae said. “I’ve been afraid to look.”

Her eyes held trepidation, worry that he wanted to wipe away. Zander heaved himself up, pushing aside the quilt she must have tucked over him.

“All right,” he said. “We’ll look together.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Zander didn’t let himself speculate, hope, or pray. He stepped to the dresser and plucked the towel from the sword.

It sat there, winking in the sunlight, still in two pieces. Rae let out a sigh and thumped down on the bed.

“Damn it,” Zander said softly. He had hoped this would work because he had no fucking clue how to fix the bloody thing. A human swordsmith or even a Shifter one might ruin it—it needed Fae magic.

But no way was he going to open a way to Faerie to look for a Fae swordsmith. They had sword makers there, but the chances of coming across a trustworthy one willing to fix a weapon originally forged to thwart the Fae were tiny. None of Zander’s stupid ideas were panning out.

Rae sat down on the side of the bed, lifted the wine bottle she’d left on the nightstand, and refilled the two glasses. She held one out to him.

“We could always try again,” she said.

A beautiful woman, bare to the sunlight, holding out a glass of ruby-red wine and suggesting, with all sincerity, that they should have sex again was difficult to ignore. Her gray eyes caught and held sunlight and warmth.

What idiot would be fool enough to resist her? Zander plucked both glasses from her hands and set them firmly down on the nightstand. Then he snaked his arms around Rae and took her mouth in a warm, afterglow kiss.

Rae slanted him a sly smile as he eased her down to the bed. At the last minute, Zander rose and twitched the towel over the sword, then returned to Rae and her warmth.

* * *

They tried again, and again. And then again. After the fourth time, Rae thought she’d be exhausted, but her body seemed to be giving her an endless supply of energy.

Or maybe it was simply the joy of being with Zander. He’d go from playful and funny to tender and slow, touching her with warm hands while he gazed into her eyes. Then to crazy and rough, grabbing Rae by the hips and flipping her over to enter her from behind. That time had Rae screaming and clawing at the covers, in the most astonishing pleasure she’d ever known.

After crackers and truffles to fortify themselves, Zander loved her again, gently this time, his strokes long and slow. Rae lay back and basked in him, knowing that the heat around her heart might mean the mate bond was forming. She said nothing, knowing it would devastate her if he didn’t feel the bond in return.

No matter what they did, though, the sword remained broken. Zander at one time left it uncovered and they put up with its hum, though Rae stopped paying attention once their lovemaking turned fervent.

The blade never fused together. The two of them giving in to mating frenzy obviously didn’t have anything to do with the sword.

They stayed in the cabin through the night. Zander ordered out food and then went to the road to fetch it so the delivery person wouldn’t come to the cabin itself. Zander said he called Eoin as well, telling him he’d keep Rae with him—to train, of course.

Her father would know exactly what they were doing out here, Rae was certain. Eoin wanted them to mate, but Zander had said not a word about the mate-claim, ceremonies, nothing.

Zander was un-Collared, free to come and go as he pleased—Rae wore a Collar and was bound to a Shiftertown. As Guardian, she was doubly bound. She wouldn’t be able to leave for long stretches at a time in case she was needed. Zander mating with her under sun and moon would tie him to a Shiftertown where he didn’t want to be. Rae doubted he’d easily give up his freedom.

As they ate warmed-over pizza at the front room’s table in the gray light of dawn, Zander told her about his phone conversation with Eoin.

“The leader of the Idaho Shiftertown couldn’t tell him much,” Zander said. “He’d heard of the incident with Carson and his wife, but by the time his trackers could get north to investigate, the ferals had gone. They followed the trail for a while but lost them and didn’t want to go too far into the wilderness. The Idaho Shiftertown leader said he’d put feelers out but he couldn’t find any more information. His Guardian looked into it as well.”

Rae nodded as she listened and chewed pizza. Tomato sauce, cheese, and pepperoni tasted surprisingly good at five in the morning after a night of sex, especially chased with warm red wine.

“Is that why you didn’t want to go with my dad to the meeting?” she asked when she finished. “Because you knew the leader didn’t know anything?”

Zander shrugged. He’d resumed underwear and T-shirt while they ate, thin fabric stretching over his hard body. Likewise Rae had put on her tank top and undies, not wanting her bare skin smeared with pizza grease.

“I figured he wouldn’t have found out anything about the ferals,” Zander said. “If he had, he’d have sent word to other leaders in the area, which includes Eoin. But asking around lets Carson and Ezra have something constructive to do instead of sitting around thinking about their troubles.”

Of course. Zander was trying to take care of everyone at once. “So how are we going to find them?” Rae asked. “We promised Carson.”