Free Forever by Rebecca Royce Page B

seven years old she had known he was hers. He had, unfortunately, not known the same about her. Of course, she’d been seven and it might have been a little sick if he had known.
    But now he was home, which was unbelievably wonderful. For five years, she’d worried he died when the reports reached them of his missing unit. So many units disappeared, and only a few were ever heard from again.
    She had prayed and prayed to the gods that sustained them to bring him home.
    Her prayers had been answered. He seemed battered and confused, but home.
    Whatever happened to him, she could help. She knew she could. As his mate, it was her duty and pleasure. They could start out by going for a run together. She would let him get used to her scent in her wolf form. It would make him less nervous…
    How had he not known immediately she belonged to him? She wasn’t a child. Nothing forbid him from noticing?
    Lena tapped her fingers on the table. Embarrassment warred with determination. He was right across the street and she needed him to return to her. It wasn’t proper for her to go to his house, at least for longer than a brief visit with family present, and she doubted she could draw him back over with a squeaky swing.
    No, she was a modern Werewolf. She’d fetch him and bring him back to her house. Her parents were too unaware these days to know which end was up, but their presence would make her plan acceptable.
    Lena rose. With her back held straight she crossed the distance between their two houses. Her confidence lasted until she’d knocked on the door. Then she wanted to faint. Her palms got sticky, and she suddenly had to pee more than anything in the world.
    The door opened slowly. Devin peered out from the small opening. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you. I shouldn’t have come over. I’m not entirely in my right mind.”
    Lena sniffed the air. “You smell sane to me. There are a lot of crazies running around these days with the drug abuse going on. I don’t smell insanity on you.” She thought she heard him laugh but the sound disappeared immediately. “Not drugged out kind of crazy. I’m…well…I’m not sure how to describe it, but it won’t happen again. I’ll leave you alone.”
    He went to shut the door, and she stuck her foot in the opening to prevent it.
    “No, I don’t want you to leave me alone, Devin.”
    “You don’t?” He pulled the door open wider. “Why not?”
    She could have screamed with frustration. He still couldn’t smell she was his mate?
    “Because I need help.” All true. She apparently needed lots and lots of assistance.
    “I’m not sure I’m fit to help you with anything. As I said, I’m not right.”
    “You’re fine.” She patted him on the arm and scooted by him to get into his house. A few minutes alone together couldn’t be completely reputation killing. Besides, who was there to see it? Who would know?
    He stared at her with a blank expression. Not that she could see much of his face at all. Devin’s cheeks, chin, and part of his neck were completely covered by his brown beard. The hair on his head had grown shaggy and fell past his neck. When she’d first seen him, years earlier, he’d had close-cropped hair and he’d never gone without shaving.
    Under his beard was the most handsome sight she’d ever seen. He had a long face, though the cleft in his chin gave him an authoritative look. The summer he’d left for the wars, his parents had thrown four parties, one for each of their children. She had come to all of them. Her older sister, Brigit, had flirted shamelessly with Devin, but Lena hadn’t worried. She known the second she scented him he belonged to her, not her sister.
    His tattooed arms were exposed in the black, torn T-shirt he’d fallen asleep in the night before. The ink had to have happened sometime in the last fifteen years.
    Two of his brothers were dead—Robbie and Auggie. Devin had gone missing and everyone said Dougal