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    My Sahil: shifters and partners, #4
    My Sahil: shifters and partners, #4
    My Sahil: shifters and partners, #4
    Ebook80 pages1 hour

    My Sahil: shifters and partners, #4

    By Hollis Shiloh

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    About this ebook

    Grant Ralstead has loved Sahil Singh for years, working with him and being his friend but knowing all the time that the angry, fierce human is his mate. 

    Singh doesn't believe in mates or love, and doesn't trust anyone. But he worries every time Grant has to go away on a mission, endangering himself. Even though he pushes Ralstead away, his feelings about the wolf shifter are clearly complicated. 

    Is there any hope for a happily-ever-after between a wounded human and the wolf shifter who loves him? 

    A Ralstead and Singh short novella. Fits in the Shifters and Partners universe. 

    Relationship-centered, very low heat, some angst. 

    Approx. 19,000 words

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSpare Words Press
    Release dateMay 25, 2016
    ISBN9781524273361
    My Sahil: shifters and partners, #4

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      Book preview

      My Sahil - Hollis Shiloh

      About the story:

      Grant Ralstead has loved Sahil Singh for years, working with him and being his friend but knowing all the time that the angry, fierce human is his mate.

      Singh doesn't believe in mates or love, and doesn't trust anyone.  But he worries every time Grant has to go away on a mission, endangering himself.  Even though he pushes Ralstead away, his feelings about the wolf shifter are clearly complicated. 

      Is there any hope for a happily-ever-after between a wounded human and the wolf shifter who loves him?

      A Ralstead and Singh short novella.  Fits in the Shifters and Partners universe.  Relationship-centered, very low heat, some angst.

      Approx. 19,000 words

      My Sahil

      by Hollis Shiloh

      All I knew the first time I set eyes on him was that I couldn't look away.

      He saw me looking, Sahil Singh, that beautiful man, and he scowled at me so fiercely.  I was charmed; I couldn't help it.  He smelled delicious to me, and he looked gorgeous.  I felt awake and alert and alive in a way I hadn't for so long ... maybe ever.

      Of course, I found him attractive — that part was obvious in the way I was trying not to silly-grin — but there was more to it than that.  It felt like waking up for the first time on a spring morning, after a very long winter, and then you hear the birds, the spring birds, and your heart begins to flutter so sweetly.  There is no preparing yourself for that dumbstruck moment of sweetness: no shielding yourself from the heartbreaking beauty of it.  That's what I felt when I saw Sahil. 

      Of course, I grew used to it in time — as used to it as one can.  We talked often, worked together well.  Sometimes, I noticed the way he talked to me more than to others, telling me things, explaining his thoughts and hopes and what mattered about our work — the important things.  He didn't try to shut me out in the same way as he did for others.  He trusted me, and that was why we could work together.

      I earned it, and it took time — because he didn't even trust his faith in me, and I had to prove it wasn't misplaced, in a thousand little ways, and most of all by not hurting him.  But oh, he did trust me, however reluctantly, however back and forth slowly.  He would confide something in me one day and be ferociously cold with me the next.

      He would spend weeks busy elsewhere, away from me, and I ached just to glimpse him.

      Sometimes, if he let himself grow particularly close, he would absent himself for longer, and wouldn't even speak to me for far too long.

      It hurt to have a mate — for that was what he was, what he must be — who would treat me that way. 

      But I understood, too.  It wasn't the same for humans.  He didn't know, didn't feel the way I did.  He couldn't trust quick feelings and smooth men.  From the little he shared with me, I knew his life hadn't been easy.

      He was gay, same as me, but had done little about it.  It was a source of pain in his family, and he was a shame to them for not marrying some young woman.  That he had risen so far in the ranks was not unexpected — his family had always put a lot of pressure on him and expected him to succeed, and he had a strong inner drive as well — but that he would not be married caused a deep rift.

      When his mother was dying, Sahil couldn't eat or sleep.  He paced around restlessly, dark circles under his haunted eyes.

      He had wanted to be near her.  But while I would move heaven and earth to help him, to ease his pain, I could not make him welcome at her bedside.  His father did not want him there with his wife in a coma quite close to the end: his unrepentant son still unwilling to marry.

      There can be no shouting now, he'd said, his voice cold and his eyes hard, even with tears in them.

      I was the one to drive Sahil to the hospital, and then when he was refused that one last time, I drove him home, back to my place.

      His father was a large man, unlike my Sahil.  He was large and heavy, and slouched a little, his back not quite straight.  Sahil usually smelled of good things to eat, and I liked that.  I did not like the way he smelled and felt after he was around his father and his father's scorn.  The man seemed able to make Sahil feel as if he was both a small child and a big disappointment.  He may as well have locked him outside in the rain, the pitiless way he treated his only child.

      That night I padded the halls of my home after Sahil, and when he turned, there were streaks of tears down his cheeks.  I had heard, of course — any wolf would have, even such low, aching hitches of breath that accompanied his tears.  But he did not glare or look ashamed.  He looked at me with a mute plea in his eyes, opening himself up to me in a way he never had before.  He wanted me to fix it.

      If only I could.

      Oh, he said, and moved into my arms as I opened them automatically, moving forward, wanting to comfort him, wanting to fix it with all my heart.

      He had never let me hold him before.

      That moment was joy tinged with agony.  How

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