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Darien rubbed her back. “You’re tensing up again. Will you tell me what’s on your mind?” When she remained quiet, he prodded, his voice exceptionally gentle, “Please?”
“Just…” She breathed deeply. The hollow clack of wooden windchimes drifted up to where they stood. “Just Valary.”
Darien’s next words made her regret this whole conversation. “I can fix it.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you’re comfortable with it, I can show you my point of view.” She resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief; she thought he’d meant something else, like getting involved in a sticky mess they didn’t need. “Valary only showed you her own sick thoughts. If you give me the chance, I can prove to you that she means nothing to me, and that you…you’re my everything.” He pulled back to look at her, but kept his arms around her. “You’re my everything.” The emotion in his words nearly reduced her to tears.
“You don’t need to prove anything to me, Darien.”
He smoothed her hair back from her face. “You’re right. I don’t need to, but I want to.” The strong column of his throat shifted with a swallow. “Will you let me? I won’t do it unless you tell me it’s okay.”
She was still so rattled by Valary that the most she could do was nod.
Darien said, “I need you to say it.”
“Yes,” she whispered, nodding again. “Yes, it’s okay.”
“Hold very still.” Gently, Darien cradled her face in his hands and pressed his forehead lightly against hers. “Try to relax. Breathe. Just breathe. I won’t do anything you won’t like, I promise.”
Loren brought her own hands up so they were cupping the backs of his; she could feel the scars flecking his knuckles, a few of them new.
“How does it work?” she whispered, her eyelids sliding shut. She gripped his hands tighter to keep hers from trembling. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous. “Do you need the contact?”
“No,” he said, matching her tone. “But you do.”
Once the meaning in his words sunk in, her heart gave a painful thump. He knew her better than anyone—better than she knew herself some days. He was right: the physical contact was exactly what she needed as she felt him carefully push at her mind.
Her body must’ve tightened up, because he abruptly stopped.
“You’re okay,” he whispered. She felt the mental nudge of his mind against hers again, so different from that night in the dining room, when he’d made her body feel…a certain way. She wasn’t sure how it worked—how one type of mental power could feel so different from another.
She worked at yielding to him, loosening her mind the same way she loosened her taut muscles.
In a volume even quieter than before, Darien said, “You okay?”
She nodded under his hands, and he used his thumbs to draw a calming pattern in her hair. Releasing the breath from her lungs, she forced the last of the tension out of her body, fully letting him in.
Slowly…slowly…and then all at once, he was there in her mind. Wholly there, sharing everything with her.
And he was right; seeing the Warg the way he saw her did help how she was feeling. While he didn’t show her anything even vaguely sexual, what he did show her was enough. Having him in her mind wasn’t as scary as she’d thought it would be. Instead, it felt like he belonged there. He allowed her to feel what he felt, allowed her to see Valary the way he saw her, the truth behind the images and clips and emotions instantly putting her mind and heart at ease. He hadn’t loved Valary, hadn’t even viewed her as a friend. His relationship with her had been purely physical, and that was all he’d ever wanted from her.
When he released his mental hold on her, she found that her body let go of the last of the tension she was holding. She could breathe a little easier, think a little clearer. Her heart still hurt like someone had ripped it out of her chest and stomped on it, but it was more like a dull ache instead of a searing pain.
Darien was watching her closely, hands still resting on either side of her head. He looked her in the eyes, his own filled with concern that broke her heart more than any jealous girl ever could.
This right here—this man was all she cared about. The only thing that mattered.
Darien whispered, “Better?”
Loren nodded. “Better.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his hands sliding down her shoulders, down her arms… They stopped to circle her wrists. Heat bloomed everywhere he touched. His thumb grazed the charm bracelet of the Avenue of the Scarlet Star—the gift he’d given her outside of his mother’s restaurant.
“You belong with me.” His words were a declaration. A shout out into the universe, a claim that could not be challenged. “No one else. This—” He lifted her left hand to his chest, flattening it right above his heart, his strong pulse thumping under her palm. When he spoke, his eyes burned with passion and intent. “This is yours. From now until the day I die, and every day after, I am yours. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
