"Yes," Graeme whispered. "I do feel it."
She was right. If he concentrated on those instincts that welled within her regarding the whole council and elders situation rather than the reactionary response that he instinctually had, he could feel what was she was talking about.
It was like there was a guide there—within her—reaching out to them both.
The ground suddenly shook and creaked open, rumbling down the hill toward them as what appeared to be an old, ancient root rose up through the mossy green. Graeme's heart thundered up into his chest as he sprang in front of his mate, blocking her from whatever nefarious thing had found its way here.
"Oh," the woman with the raven hair materialized, attached to the earth by the lacy lichen dress that flowed out behind her. "Were you not just thinking to call a guide? I am the guardian here. A guide of sorts."
