Page 215 of Awakened

He turns from his Pack and heads in our direction. His large body is surprisingly graceful despite his abnormal size. As he gets closer, I realize his eyes are a startling bright green. And the moment they land on me, I feel a spark of recognition.

It’s not simply the size, or the fact that he has the same—albeit lighter—eyes as my Mate. It’s the sheer dominance radiating from him with every graceful step he takes. That, and the focused intensity in his eyes… like he’s imagining all the ways he wants to consume me once he has the chance.

My body moves before my mind can catch up. I take a step toward the massive Beast, and Caelan doesn’t hold me back. Shade, however, follows next to me, ears perked and tail shifting side to side—almost like a dog wagging its tail in excitement.

“Gods, that cat is fucking fearless,” Vae mutters.

“You have come to the realization that that’s not a normal panther, right?” Daxen drawls from behind me. “It’s not like she went to the zoo and brought it home.”

A long beat of silence passes, then Vae whispers, “Wait…you can do that?”

Shade chuffs, and I get the distinct impression that he’s laughing. Daxen’s right about one thing… Shade’s not a normal panther. He’s something else. Something… something like me.

I spare a glance at the wolven standing behind Soren’s Beast. His Packmates are huddled together in a solemn group, eyes trained on Soren. They’re tense, almost like they’re prepared to intervene if he attacks.

There’s a gravity to this moment. Something I’m too ignorant to understand. For once, I don’t think I’d be able to grasp the magnitude, even if I had lived a normal life.

I’m not afraid, but my instincts don’t subscribe to rationality. My Omega is trying to be brave, but it’s not easy. Not when I’m so close to something so rarely seen by humans that some circles still consider them myth.

Soren’s paws are the size of dinner plates, and with every step he takes, his claws tear up the Earth. His body is almost solid muscle, sides billowing with each controlled breath.

I don’t realize I’ve stopped to stare until Shade turns his head and chirps at me in a scolding tone before bounding across the final few feet separating us from Soren.

The tension from Soren’s pack thrums until it’s so thick in the air I can practically feel it. Unconcerned, Shade lopes right up to Soren and butts his head against the Beast’s flank. His purr is so loud it sounds like a car engine revving, and the startled expressions on the group of wolven make me laugh, despite the tension.

Soren returns Shade’s greeting. Then, he turns to me and dips his head and hunches his shoulders. Like making himself six inches shorter might make him seem less threatening.

For some reason, that makes me grin. It’s so ridiculous but at the same time, just so… Soren.

The last thing I want is for him to worry his own Mate is afraid of him. I lift my hands and run my fingers through the soft, silky fur between his ears. He’s much warmer than I thought he would be. He exhales in relief, and a surge of appreciation rushes through me. Pushing onto my tiptoes, I wrap my arms around his broad neck.

I remember watching the old Thanksgiving Day parade on television one year with Mama—before my father took all the TV’s away—and seeing the Clydesdales. They were one of my favorites, with their towering forms and feathery hooves, prancing with their heads held high like they knew they were something to be admired.

The memory of those Clydesdales is what my brain latches onto, like an attempt to contextualize Soren’s majesty and size. His Beast is just as large, but instead of polished leather and reins, he’s all hard muscle and bulky, thick fur.

And he’s mine.

He gently rests his head on my shoulder. He’s quite obviously keeping all his weight on his back paws; otherwise, I’d be on the ground right now. I hug him tighter, loving the way his Christmas scent is even more intense in this form.

There’s an extra layer of wildness to it. Something primal and feral, an ancient power born of the Earth.

A heartbeat later, I’m no longer pressed against the solid, furry form of my Mate. Soren shifts—his fur receding, replaced by skin. The weight of him against my shoulder is replaced by his arms wrapped around my back.

He pulls back, sporting a huge grin.

“I probably shouldn’t admit this, but Fates, I was worried. I thought you might be afraid of me.”

“I might have been,” I admit honestly, “if I didn’t already know you were mine.”

Returning his widening grin with my own, I’m about to beg him to tell me how in the world he can shift without ruining his clothes, when Kane appears like a wraith to stand at Soren’s side. His normally jovial expression is absent.

“I dinna mean tae interrupt but….” He hesitates, tossing a look over his shoulder toward their pack. As I’m studying them, one male with shaggy blond hair catches my gaze. His brow furrows and his lips thin into a disapproving line.

He doesn’t look away, and I get the feeling he’s daring me to do so first, like it’s some kind of silent challenge.

What in the world is that about?

“What happened out there?” Caelan asks, placing a steady hand against my lower back and pulling me to his side. We cross the yard, coming to stand in front of his pack.