Trusted Bond

mad.
    Already beyond my ravaged body I felt something deeper, a longing that
    was trying to claw its way out of me. My first thought was normally never
    violence, but when the words had come from Ammon that he would
    decide when or if I could see my mate, I had wanted to tear his throat out.
    It surprised me that there was no rise of boiling anger but instead just
    cold, flat, barren hatred. I was changing, twisting, my need eating me up,
    and I was almost frightened even as I pushed aside the thoughts as simply
    a normal reaction. Any lovers who were purposely parted would hate and
    revile the instrument of their separation. What was scary was that there
    should have been seething rage in me and there was only hate. I had
    passed anger and fury and gone straight to wanting to have his blood
    pooled at my feet. It was not like me, and as I pulled the satin sheets over
    my head, having turned off the lamp on the nightstand, I realized that my
    teeth were chattering and I felt like I was slowly freezing to death.
    Something was wrong, really wrong, but what?

    130

    Mary Calmes

    Chapter 11

    I HAD exchanged one cage for another. I was no freer to find Logan or
    leave where I was put than when Laurent Bruyere imprisoned me. The
    difference was that before I had harbored hope. Now I found myself with
    nowhere to turn. The semel-aten could keep me from my mate indefinitely
    if he wanted. On a whim, his whim, my life would either stop or continue
    on. I had no choice but to wait and see.
    The priest of Chae Rophon who was supposed to be my advocate
    apparently didn‘t care enough to even check on me. But why would he? I
    was one of millions.
    But not all cats were reahs, and this was the only thread of faith I had
    left, the only I allowed myself. Perhaps as a curiosity factor the priest
    would come see me.
    I appeared when I was summoned to the main hall in the morning. I
    wore the keffiyeh as I had been instructed, and it was held in place with
    the agal on my head. Like a small turban, it covered all of my hair, and the
    only part of my face that was visible was my eyes. The women at the long
    table, the yareahs, were all dressed the same, the difference being that
    their keffiyehs were made of sheer, iridescent material in different shades
    of red. Mine was black like my clothes and the sandals that I had been
    given.
    It was interesting that the custom seemed like those of women in
    Middle Eastern countries, the way their heads, and in some places, their
    entire bodies had to be covered in the presence of any other man but their
    husband. Where the difference was for me was that as the mate of a semel,
    even though I was a man, the custom was extended to me. Had Delphine
    been in the room, she would not have had to be covered any more than the
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    semel-aten was, but I had to be cloaked, as did all the yareahs. And I knew
    that most of the laws had been in effect since ancient times, laws that kept
    other men alive, as they could not see the mate of a semel and so were not
    able to lust after them and incur the semel‘s wrath. The laws were there to
    protect others so a semel didn‘t rip them to pieces.
    As I sat at the other end of the long table from the semel-aten, I
    greeted the women that spoke to me. Only the new yareahs were there.
    Vaguely, I wondered where Simone was before I remembered. Logan had
    told me that as the mating fell so close to the feast that neither she nor
    Ethan would be there. His maahes would attend in his stead, as a
    honeymoon in Sobek was not on the agenda for the semel of the tribe of
    Tefnut and his new yareah.
    I would have to call her when I got home. I wanted her to know that
    I didn‘t blame her for talking to Laurent Bruyere and telling him my
    whereabouts. She had no idea that the man was going to hurt me, no idea
    he was a psychopath and wanted to take me from my mate.
    My true-mate.
    Logan.
    I wanted to see him so desperately. Wanted to kiss him, hold him,
    and be wrapped in his arms. Thinking about his hands, his tongue, his lips,
    I felt quick heat rush to my groin.
    I wanted to be under him.
    Have him inside me, filling me.
    The ache was raw, and I didn‘t suppress it, didn‘t fight it, instead
    letting it roll through me unchecked and surrendered.
    The screams wrenched me from my thoughts.
    ―Reah!‖
    I looked up at the semel as he stood at the end of the table, hands
    fisted at his sides, staring daggers at me.
    ―If you cannot contain yourself,