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“Yes.”
He raises an eyebrow, the same pissed off look on his face. “And why would I need your help?”
“You might not,” I reply softly. “I can walk back out the door and leave you to it if that’s what you want.”
Cevon sighs and clenches his jaw before widening his legs. He’s pissed off, but that’s an opening I’m not going to refuse. I scoot into the space, but before my butt can rest on the small slither of seat he has offered, he lifts me into his lap and wraps his arms around my stomach.
Yeah, this manhandling thing has always been something I love, and that’s not changed just because Cevon’s the one doing it.
No, I think I might love it that little bit more. This man can’t help himself, despite the fact I know he’s not acknowledging our bond.
“Dictate,” I command, and he nods.
And that’s how I spend the next forty minutes. I help him fix this email, and I send another five before we’re done.
“Thank you,” he says, and the words sound like they’ve been pulled from between his teeth. But it’s still a good thing in my eyes because I never had to ask him for it.
I never tried to force him to say it.
He just clearly hates the words.
“Now, what did you come here for?” he asks, keeping me hostage in his lap. I try to wriggle away, but he doesn’t budge other than turning me to the side, rather than facing away from him. “Nora?”
“I think this news is best shared with me out of your lap.” He shakes his head, but that’s all he gives me. “How connected are you with your lion?”
“Very.”
I nod, pursing my lips. I don’t feel like that was a lie, but clearly he’s not connected with him. My wolf sensed the bond between Cevon and I on Saturday, once we woke up and found him in this very room.
But it took me longer. I was denying it, not seeing the signs.
And he’s doing the same.
“We’re mates,” I say, not beating around the bush.
He pauses, examines my face, and then bursts out laughing. Actual tears appear in his eyes, and I have to bite my inner cheek to stop myself from reacting negatively.
“Good one, little darkling,” he replies, still chuckling a little. I don’t think he realises it, but he squeezes me a little closer. “But, unless you forgot, my mate is dead. She’s buried in a grave not too far from here.”
“I’m your second chance mate,” I say, and he frowns before shaking his head.
“Not a thing.”
“I think my seven mate bonds will tell you otherwise,” I reply.
He glares at me now, but his eyes flash amber, and I know his lion understands.
When I fight to get off his lap again, he lets me, and I can sense him warring within himself. He’s struggling to process the giant bombshell that I’ve dropped in his lap.
But when shock turns to pain, and then to anger, I know he’s not reacted positively.
“Get out,” he snaps, shaking his head. His words are thick with emotion, his normally hoarse voice struggling even more. It sounds like it hurts him to speak.
Instead of arguing, I just leave. He needs the time to himself, to figure his own shit out. I close the door behind me, waiting for the soft click, before walking away. He needs time to process. I understand that.
Rather than heading back to the barren room that he’s dumped me in, I turn and go the other way. At the end of the corridor, there’s a door that’s slightly ajar. Now this is extremely interesting because when I came this way yesterday, this door was shut.
And not just shut—it was locked, completely blocking me from entering, and I tried.
