Chapter 66. Regant Mountain (5)

Blayne’s POV

“Gamma Blayne,” a shaky senior voice interrupted.

Provoked, an incensed growl shook the ground, whipping air strikes of a harsh wind into the old man’s face. He clutched clumsily at his walking stick with his decrepit fingers. His hair had winter-white tresses. He had hard, wizened eyes and a clipped Abe Lincoln beard. His face was toil-worn and sun-tanned from exposure and he walked with a weary, lethargic air.

“Yours. She’s yours.” Evidently, he knew how to deal with possessive male mates. “But we both know that if you marked her like this, she would not want to forgive you.”

The veracity of his words jolted me out of my fantasy. Giving Cleo my penitent attention, her eyes fluttered as her mind tentatively refocused on the present.

Daze, she opened her pretty round lips to curse when Sherda meekly interrupts with, “Gamma, Cleo is overworked and has not been eating properly. She fainted in the valley and Hunter Damon carri