Page 28 of Sight of Fate

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories,” he says, his hand pressing my head to his chest. His voice is low and full of contrition.

I blink. Did I say they were memories?

He rocks back and forth. “The expression on your face. It reminded me of Andros. When the past triggers him.”

His words shine an unexpected light on Andros. Maybe that’s why he acts like he does. Cold. Distant. Arrogant. Doesn’t matter. The last thing he wants is anything to do with me, but at least it gives me a bit of perspective and some empathy.

Pressed up against Teague, I revel in the strength and safety of his arms, and the fact that he’s again holding me close without any visions surfacing.

Teague pulls back. “I never want to be the cause of your pain. Forgive me?” His low tone makes me shiver, and I lift my eyes to meet his, my gaze tracing the features I’ve drawn so many times. What would it be like to kiss a man like him? A man who knows what he’s doing. I study the shape of his lips and imagine them on mine. Time slows. His chest rises and falls beneath my hands as he takes a deep breath and dips his head.

The phone rings, and I jump. What am I doing? He’s my boss.

I ease out of his arms. “Of course. I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

He flicks a frustrated glance from me to the phone on his desk, then, with a shake of his head, he stalks over and picks it up, barking at the person on the other end.

I shakily sit back down and bury my head in Teague’s calendar. No wonder Andros thought he should warn me. I’m starting to believe the impossible.

Chapter Fourteen

TEAGUE

One step forward. Two steps back. She felt so damn good, so right, in my arms. My entire body and soul hummed with her pressed against me as if the bond needed to touch her as much as I did. Those breathtaking light green eyes staring up at me, desire flaring in their depths. She wanted me to kiss her. I know it.

If it weren’t for our bond, I’d be floundering, wondering if she thought of me in that light, but she doesn’t know how to block the connection. I groan. Both a good and a bad thing. While I don’t feel all her emotions, her desire comes through loud and clear. But so do her fears and her hesitation, which makes me keep my distance.

I circle the valley for the tenth—or is it the eleventh—time? Fighting the currents. Pushing my body to exhaustion so I don’t storm in and lay waste to the lips that are torturing my every waking moment. It’s hard enough knowing she’s down the hall instead of in our place, where she belongs. The urge to knock on her door is almost overwhelming. Every day I wake up, and the bond reaches for her. All I want is to see her. Talk to her. Kiss her into surrendering. Drag her into my bed like a fucking caveman and claim her.

Hell, it hasn’t even been a week. Maybe the Fates are torturing me.

For a moment, I lost her today. One minute she was with me, and the next she was in the past, fighting a demon I couldn’t see. Or protect her from. Her fear ripped me to shreds, and it took everything in me not to shift into a gargoyle and hunt them down. All I could do was hold her, give her my strength until she found her way back to me.

Movement on the roof across from our building catches my eye. Furious, I fold in my wings and shoot out of the sky, intent on eliminating whoever has the fucking balls to set up surveillance on my family.

Slamming into the dark figure is like hitting a brick wall. Both of us tumble across the roof to the edge where I catch myself with one hand. Seconds later, a boot slams down on top of it, and I curse, snarling up at the bastard.

Macklin leans forward, smashing my hand further with his massive weight, then laughs. “Is that all you got? Getting a little soft in your old age.”

“Fuck you,” I say wearily, raising my other hand for him to take.

He easily lifts me up to join him as if my weight is inconsequential. Maybe I’ve been spending too many nights in the office.

“What the hell are you doing up here?”

His eyes slide past me, making me turn to see what’s caught his attention. I inhale sharply when I see Charli sleeping on the couch.

“What the hell?” I growl, unable to take my eyes off her.

He peers up at the night sky. “This is where I come to get away from everyone. Didn’t think about seeing into her apartment until I got up here.”

Macklin hands me a flask, and I take a drink. Smooth Irish whiskey tumbles down my throat, easing the burn as the bond automatically reaches for the connection and finds her in a restless sleep.

“Damn, you broke out the good stuff,” I tell him, handing it back. “You don’t have to wait, you know?” He slides his gaze to me. “Although I have to admit, this incomplete bond is pure fucking torture.”

“She needs time,” he insists, holding firm.

Stubborn, but not wrong. “I checked on the pass. Elijah came through. It's officially closed.”