RIKA

Gar’s warm hands on her back, his breath on her neck… it all made her shiver—and not just with fear. He felt warm and solid and strong, and when she wasn’t afraid, it was wonderful. He was… somehow more real than any other man she’d been close to. But he was also bigger and stronger—and more intimidating for it.

Rika had had enough time in the forest with Gar, watching him hunt, or swim, or just walk… she loved the way he moved—like his joints were spring loaded and under tension. Power sheathed. His entire body swung into anything he did, as if he were always on the verge of breaking into a run. Even when he just strolled through a cave, the strength within him was evident—a coiled spring held in check.

And his beast form… it was magnificent.

She wished she could have watched him like that without the fear that surrounded her.  That wasn’t the first time she’d seen him in his lion, but catching him in full view, full sunlight was rare. Usually he only took his animal form to navigate the forest, and returned to his humanity as soon as he reached her. She’d only ever seen pieces of him, glimpses. But that…

“You’re… breathtaking,” she whispered in his ear. “In your lion. Really beautiful.”

Gar huffed in her ear, one hand flattening at her back. “You’re easily impressed.”

“No,” she said quietly, then pushed back far enough to meet his eyes, swallowing hard. “That’s the thing, Gar. I’m almost impossible to impress. I usually find other people either pointless, or terrifying. There’s really no middle ground. I do the work I do because I’d rather be alone most of the time. But you… it’s different with you.”

Something flashed in his eyes, a tiny pinprick of hope. But he was obviously still holding himself in check because he just swallowed and searched her eyes. “What’s different?”

Inwardly, Rika recoiled, suddenly regretting the moment of honesty. She was too raw. Too shaky. But then his mother’s face flashed in Rika’s head alongside an image of Gar’s father who’d stared at her with such adoration in his eyes. Elia’s words from earlier in the day echoed in her head again.

Take the risk.

Rika swallowed, trying desperately to moisten her dry mouth. “When you’re close… I sleep better,” she whispered.

Gar’s brows pinched over his nose. “You sleep?”

She nodded. “I can sleep because I feel safer when you’re there than I do when I’m alone. Usually.”

Gar’s breath sucked in softly and he brought one hand up to gently comb her hair back behind her ear with his fingers. She wanted to shiver at the delicious sensation that trickled down the back of her neck.

“That’s good, right?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, it is,” Rika said. “And it’s… it’s never happened before. With a guy, I mean. I’ve had guys that I liked and even guys I could be close to. But there was always this sense that I needed to protect myself and… Most of the time with you, that’s not there. Most of the time I want to have you at my back. That… that never happens.”

Gar’s face broke into a handsome smile. “That’s very good news,” he said, his lips pressing tightly together after, as if he were holding back more words. “That’s the bond,” he said, his voice hushed and a little awed. “If you pay attention, you’ll feel it. It will… it connects us. If you let it… if you let me be close, it’ll make you feel that more often.”

Rika tried not to be cynical. But that sounded like brainwashing to her. “What’s it doing though? I mean… I don’t want to be forced to think a certain way, or—”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Gar rushed to say, his fingers curling at her back. “The bond is like… it’s a way of feeling the connection with the person the Creator made for you. It’s like… recognition,” he said. “It makes it easier to be close. It helps us move forward more confidently—like a… an external affirmation of what we already know. At least, I do,” he said sheepishly.

His throat bobbed again and Rika could see his fear—his certainty that he felt these things for her, and his fear that she didn’t, or wouldn’t return them. Her heart went out to him.

She lifted a hand to cup his neck, feeling the strong tendons under her palm, the steel cord of his strength there. She blew out a breath and shook her head. “I don’t know how to do this, Gar. I’ve never… I’ve never wanted to trust anyone before. I’m not sure I know how to do it, even when I want to.”

“Just be patient,” he said a moment later, with a soft grin that seemed a little sad to her. “I kinda know that feeling. Just be patient.”

“I think you’re the one who’s going to have to be patient,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“Then we’re good,” he chuckled. “Because I’ll do anything, Rika. Anything, if it means you’ll stay.”

Moved almost to tears by the pleading in his eyes, the sheer humility of it, she put both hands to his face and pulled him in, kissing him deeply, but slowly.

Gar’s large hand slid to cup the back of her head, and a low moan began in his throat. But he pulled away as soon as she did, watching her carefully.

It took a while to find the courage to say the thing in her head, and she had to look at her hand on his chest instead of into his eyes to do it.

“I don’t want to be the reason we won’t work,” she whispered, her deepest fear come to life. It was, her therapist had said, the subconscious reasons she rarely felt attraction to a man. By the time her body responded with desire, her mind had already taken her to a place of vulnerability—and shown her all the ways that could go terribly wrong. The things she knew could happen at the hands of a man who was close and intimate. Who knew you deeply, and used that knowledge as a weapon.

It was, the therapist had said, like looking at a cake she knew had been made with salt instead of sugar.

“Even when you look, and it looks good, you’re convinced it’s going to taste terrible. So you never even try.”

Rika wasn’t sure that was true, but there was no doubt, her relationships had been few and far between, and never really deep. She’d never let a man get close enough to her to give her heart away. She’d given her body, but never her heart.

She hadn’t trusted any of them enough to make herself that vulnerable.

“Don’t worry,” Gar whispered back, stroking her jaw with a gentle thumb. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Rika. I’m never letting you go as long as there’s any hope. We’ll get there. We will.”

But Rika was too busy stroking his broad chest and having to remind herself that the touch was good. She liked it. That Gar wasn’t her father.

Gar wasn’t like any man she’d ever known before. And that was a good thing.

That was a very good thing.