“Most of the time, it’s too late to protect them, but I take out the threat. They won’t hurt anyone else.” He brushes my hair behind my ear.
“That’s noble,” I whisper, and his eyes crinkle.
“It’s badass,” Sally says.
“Bash does similar work,” Marie mentions.
“Many of us here do,” Heath says quietly. He looks at Ezra, and some of the hostility he showed openly is gone.
The room erupts with conversation and questions. I stare at my mate as he answers them, his demeanor relaxed. I realize that nothing that happened tonight has fazed him. The family can be overwhelming for newcomers, but he’s handled it well. He smiles easily, and his body is at ease. His other arm is on the armrest, his fingers drumming every few seconds. His legs are stretched out, his ankles crossed. I don’t know what an assassin is supposed to look like, but I wouldn’t think they would look like him.
He seems to have Bash's approval. Allie trusts him, or else she wouldn’t bring him here. Ryker doesn’t fuck around with any bad people in his club, and he is lounging with his mate close. Atlas and Luca know him and allow him near Sally. If he were a threat, he wouldn’t be here. Trusting a man is not easy for me to do, even if that man is my mate. I’ve seen others in the family meet their mate, and although we all have our issues, mine are more extreme. The men I have been with since my teenage years are carefully chosen. Most of them were human and non-threatening. I have a list of qualifications. It may sound cold, yet I stick by them for the sake of my mental health.
Six years after Bobbie violated me, I decided to have sex, and it didn’t go well. I cried, and the human was sweet, but didn’t know how to handle the situation. I’ve come a long way since then. Most of the time, I enjoy it. I prefer to take care of myself alone in my bedroom, behind the safety of locked doors. Emotionally, I haven’t connected with a man. My relationships are short, and I’ve never called anyone my boyfriend. Shifters are too strong, so avoiding any sexual interactions with them is a rule.
Will it be different with Ezra?
Logically, I know mates would never intentionally hurt the one meant for them. They don’t cheat and are devoted to one another. My brain is saying that, yet my heart is bruised and bloody. This man could wreck me. Once I give my trust, it is forever.
I feel the air move across my legs, and I look down. While I’ve been staring at the side of Ezra’s head, lost in my thoughts, the slit of my dress slid off my thigh. My mate pinches the fabric's edge, lifts it slightly, then drops it to cover me. He did it smoothly, never touching my skin.
“Your leg band was showing,” he whispers, his breath caressing my ear.
“Oh…” I turn my head, and he is focused on Sally as she talks. I blink.
I’m in trouble. He knows something. I wonder if he can sense my hesitation. He’s confusing me because he’s not acting as all the other men in the family did when they met their mate. It’s as if he can read my mind and know how much physical touch would be welcome. In the line of work he chose, I’m sure he’s met many abused women and watched how they move. He seems too good to be true.
“Did you eat?” Haven whispers. I forgot she was sitting beside me, so consumed with Ezra.
“Today?” I frown, remembering the taco. Since then, I don’t think I did.
“Rylee,” she says.
“I know.” I focus on her, even though I feel my mate move away. I want to look. His presence is powerful, and I feel a void when he's not next to me. Haven glances over my shoulder briefly.
“How are you? Really?”
“It’s hard to put into words,” I mutter.
“He’s very…” She looks toward her mates before leaning closer. “Pleasant looking.”
“Yes, he’s very, very, pleasant looking.” I bite my lip.
“You could look at him forever,” she blurts, and Bane growls. “I mean, you could. I wouldn’t want to. I have four sexy as hell mates.” She smiles sweetly at them.
“Good save,” I laugh.
“I thought so,” she says, winking at Bane.
“He’s different,” I state, and she tilts her head. “I don’t know how to deal with him. He’s not acting how they did.” I tip my chin toward the others in the room.
“I think it’s a good thing. You need different,” she says softly.
“Yeah,” I sigh, fiddling with my sleeves. “I don’t know how to proceed.”
“Follow your gut. Everyone here has a different story. This is yours, so write it how you want.” She smiles.
“You’re right.” I sense my mate coming back.
