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“That’s a copout. You prefer a hero.”
“I think heroes are good,” I say, my eyes darting over to the romance section with a small smile. “I love the way they protect their love interest, the way—”
“Heroes have to do the right thing, even when trying to protect their girl,” Cevon says, storming away from me and stopping in front of the romance section. He grabs a book and tosses it onto the fire, and I gasp.
“What are you doing?” I demand, edging forward.
“Getting rid of the fucking fantasies,” he snarls, with a furious expression on his face. The glow of the fireplace, combined with the stubbly facial hair covering his entire bottom half of his face, makes him look dangerous. “Heroes have got to save the shitty world. They can’t just burn it all to the ground.”
“Maybe,” I say softly, pushing my blanket away and walking over to him. He doesn’t revolt at my closeness, so I don’t stop, I keep walking until I’m at his back. I place the palm of my hand at the bottom of his spine, letting the heat from my skin soothe him. “But nobody says you have to be a hero, Cev.”
He lets out a huff, as if that’s not okay, as if he can’t understand that. “You deserve a hero, Nora.”
“Good thing I have more than one mate,” I say, and he snarls. He turns around and glares at me. I don’t back down, though. No matter what my Alpha lion thinks about himself, he’d never harm me, even if the thoughts within told him to. He’s stronger than anybody I know—myself included—and I don’t even think I’ve scratched the surface of what makes up Cevon Phoenix. “I don’t need you to be my hero, Cev. I need you to be my mate.”
“I’m the fucking villain in your story, Nora.” He rolls his eyes, acting like I’m stupid. “I’m the one who fucking hurt you.”
Maybe originally, but don’t the best kinds of stories start with a little bit of pain?
“You didn’t reject me,” I say instead of voicing the dark thoughts, and he freezes as I bring some logic into this. He knows all about me being rejected, so I’m not sure why he’s acting so surprised.
“Reject you?”
I raise an eyebrow at his tone, and he narrows his eyes. “What’s your issue?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
“Why would I reject you?”
“You didn’t,” I say, smiling with a grin that shows off my imperfect teeth. They’re my biggest self-doubt, one of the things I hate most about myself. They’re pretty straight, and if you ignore the very slight difference in length of my two front teeth, they’re good teeth.
But they’re closer to yellow than white. When you take photos with the flash on, they’re pretty yellow.
And, yeah, I could take the out my human dentist gave me and say it’s because I have weak enamel that’s eroded away due to no fault of my own.
Except I’m a wolf who had perfect teeth with perfect genetics.
And my teeth are yellowy and horrible because I neglected them. Because, for a year straight, I couldn’t brush my teeth, and, even now, when the nights are hard and my mind is dark, brushing my teeth is one of the last things I think about doing.
So my teeth are fucking ugly, and they make me cringe when I see them.
But my mate, the lion in front of me who hates himself more than I hate myself, smiles back at me. He doesn’t see the imperfections, or, if he does, he doesn’t seem to care. At least not right now.
He sees a woman who is by his side as the demons rage rampant in the air.
He sees a woman who is here, trying, despite all the shit she’s gone through.
He sees a woman who has survived her own version of hell, and she’s going to drag him out of his own pit.
He’s scared, he’s terrified, even, because he doesn’t believe he’s capable of redemption.
But that’s the issue. In my eyes, he doesn’t have anything to redeem himself for.
He wants to end the hunters.
I want to end the hunters.
He wants justice for his mate.
I want justice for his mate.
