FOUR

My mind spins with conflicting feelings.

A rush of love.

A confusion.

It conflicts with my sense of duty to protect the pack.

How can a rogue be my mate?

I lower my bow, the arrow slipping from my fingers. It falls with a thud on the carpet of grass and dew. I know I can’t harm him.

I don’t know how to balance my own feelings with what I know to be true. I don’t know how to make the world stop spinning.

“Who are you?” I ask.

He says nothing.

"Who are you?" I demand again.

He lowers his bloody hands. The wound in his arm is still bleeding freely.

Then he takes a step forward.

My breath catches.

He takes another step. Then another.

With trembling hands, I place the arrow back in my quiver. I know as he gets closer that I won’t be able to stop myself from reaching for him.

He can’t be my mate. There must be some kind of mistake.

He stops a foot away from me.

Tall. Broad shoulders.

Handsome beyond all definition of the word.

He stares down at me. His eyes rove over my face. I see his chest rise and fall. Rise and fall. He is breathing heavily.

From pain?

From fear?

From this new strange sensation I know we are both feeling.

His cheeks flush. His eyes flash with gold.

To me, they look like an invitation to come and explore their depths.

To me, they are an invitation to a new world.

"Who are you?" I say again.

Nothing.

His silence is deafening.

Why won't he answer me?

A sapling snaps beneath my foot as I move to him. I ignore the sound, stepping towards him and dropping my bow to a heap on the dew-covered grass.

I see the confusion in his eyes.

I sense it, too.

I take another step towards him.

I raise my hand to his face.

He flinches at my touch, his eyes filled with a million emotions.

They sparkle with hope as I brush my thumb over his bottom lip.

His skin is warm from the exertions of his journey, and I find myself caressing his cheek. I feel his stubble on my fingertips as I trail the back of my fingers up to the edge of his ear.

And now, I’m not sure what do to.

I’m not sure about anything anymore.

The rogue’s gaze is locked with mine, the intensity of the moment between us is almost tangible. The moonlight dances along his skin, making him look like a god.

It’s almost not fair that there could be a male like this, and he’s a rogue.

I have never been so confused in my life. It’s like I have the world on my shoulders. How could he be the one I have been waiting for?

And why doesn’t he speak?

Is he in shock?

Then, suddenly, he steps back, turns, and flees into the night.

I do not shoot.

I do not pursue.

My feet are rooted to the spot. I simply stand, watching him run.

I don’t know what to do with myself. My mind is as blank as my thoughts as I bend to collect my bow, my fingers trembling over the smooth wood and silver.

I look up once more at the rogue as he disappears into the trees.

I want to follow him.

I want to run after him.

I want to know more about him.

But I can’t.

I can’t because of my pack.

I bow my head.

My heart sinks.

Did I just let him get away?

I don’t know what I can do about the longing inside me for him.

I don’t know what to think.

He is my mate.

My mate.

I try to say the words out loud, trying to get myself to believe them, but I can’t even get the words past my tongue.

“My mate,” I whisper.

A shudder runs through me.

Could it really be?

Just then, I hear a noise behind me.

The crunch of footsteps on leaves.

I am no longer alone.

A chill runs through my body.

I brace myself for the fight and swirl around.

It is Val.

My heart pounds.

What did she see?

Anything?

Everything?

By the look on her face, my guess is she saw at least something that gave her cause for confusion.

He eyes dart to the trees.

Has she heard the rogue’s footfalls as he flees?

I can tell she's heard something in the forest.

And I know it.

I know she saw him.

I know she saw me not kill him.

Slowly, she raises her eyebrow at me.

“You just let the rogue escape," she says.

My heart stops.

Questions race through my mind.

How could I be so stupid?

What have I done?

What is wrong with me?

I have no idea what to say.

I don’t know what to do with myself.

I don’t know what to say to her.

I snatch my bow from the floor of grass.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I just…”

The words die on my lips.

Val's eyes darken.

“You just what?” she asks.

She steps to me.

My throat tightens as I think of how much trouble I am in.

She places a hand on my shoulder.

I flinch.

“What’s wrong with you?” she demands. “Are you sick?”

“I don’t know," I say.

I feel sick.

I feel sick from the confusion.

I’m not even sure if I can talk to her.

I shake my head.

I feel numb.

Utterly numb.

There’s a pause, and then Val speaks again.

"What is wrong with you?” she asks again.

She wants an explanation.

There isn’t one I can give.

I don’t know how to tell her my whole world has changed.

But before I get the chance, Val suddenly raises her bow and silver arrow.

Her face is cold. as she points the silver arrow directly at me.