His Mate, His Enemy novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: Fated

Nobody spoke for a long moment, and then everyone did.

Both packs broke into noise at once.

Old women crossed themselves and warriors shouted.

Somebody on the Blackwater side started to laugh, and somebody else told him to shut up.

The Moon-Keeper rapped her stick on the stone three times.

"The Moot is closed," she said. "Go home."

Nobody went home.

I stood by the fire with my hands cold, looking at the silver crescent on Brynn's palm.

It was still pulsing.

Lorcan's chest was still moving in the same slow rhythm.

Both his hands were closed into fists at his sides.

Molly took my elbow.

"Come on," she said. "Come away."

"Wait."

I had seen Lorcan's face.

He hadn't looked surprised.

That was the part I couldn't put down.

I pulled my arm free and walked out to the middle of the bridge.

The stone was bare there, and the firelight didn't reach.

Dane started after me, and I shook my head.

He stopped at the edge of the light.

A moment later Lorcan came across from the other side.

He stopped a long stride away.

I could feel the thread pulled taut between us.

"You knew," I said.

He didn't deny it.

"Since the funeral."

"The night you slept with her."

"The morning after." His voice was rough.

"She had a bandage on her hand. I asked about it.

"She said she'd burned it, and I pulled it back."

"And it was glowing."

"It was glowing. And mine started to ache, the same place. I knew what it meant."

I thought about the bandage on her hand in Molly's yard.

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