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Not that she would be unhappy about his mating. On the contrary, she’d be thrilled. But she would be disappointed that Christian hadn’t confided in her. She’d take his secrecy as a personal slight, claiming him cold and hateful for intentionally leaving her out of such a monumental life event.
He sighed. She’d show up eventually, but not before gaining a bit of information first. If anything, his mother liked to be prepared.
“How long have you had her here, Christian?”
“Four days.”
“And things are...”
It was not the bishop’s business to ask, certainly not his right to know. But Christian knew he was inquiring as a friend.
“Not well.” Glancing at his catatonic mate who watched the bishop like a statue, Christian pushed a hand through his hair, setting it on end as his neck burned. “I’m afraid the situation is worsening by the day if you want the truth.”
Eleazar’s silent observation spoke volumes. As the most powerful immortal on the farm, over half a millennia-old, the bishop had the power to look into Christian’s or Delilah’s mind and see anything he wanted to know.
Eleazar frowned. “She’s transitioned, yet...”
Christian grimaced. “The bonding was swift. I didn’t want to chance…complications.”
“I see.”
“I realize now, a little patience might have benefited both of us.” He hoped Delilah heard the sincerity of his words. The admission was made for her benefit more than anything else.
Eleazar switched from English to Dutch. “Modern mortal females are different, Christian. They like their independence and tend to be much more free-spirited than the females of The Order.”
“I realize that also,” Christian also transitioned to their native language.
“How old is your female?”
“Just under thirty years.”
He frowned, studying Delilah and no doubt reading some of her memories.
“She came to me willingly,” Christian explained. “I took nothing she didn’t offer.”
“Except her life.”
His head lowered in shame. “Yes.”
Once the calling had begun, Christian could not shake the fear of turning feeish. What had become of his once close friend, Isaiah, was an abomination. He did not want to risk the same fate.
Eleazar placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “What’s done is done, brother. Rest easy. You’re both through the transition and safe.”
Safe but not happy.
“I’ve been alone too long. I’m not sure I know how to do this.” Only because he was certain Delilah did not understand their version of Pennsylvania Dutch did Christian confide such personal information to his trusted friend.
“Nonsense. Resolutions will come in time. You must be patient.”
“She hates me. I assumed there was no point in delaying the inevitable, but perhaps I was wrong.”
“Perhaps. But there’s no undoing what’s been done and, now you’re in no danger of becoming feeish.”
“Yes, but I have an angry female on my hands, which may be more hazardous.”
The bishop cocked his head and cleared his throat, drawing back his telepathic inspection. “How are you tolerating her hunger?”
Eleazar was so perceptive, it didn’t surprise Christian that he could sense such internal agony. Delilah had been starving herself for days. He had no idea how far she would go to punish him, but he already forgave her for whatever suffering may come. She was angry. Rightly so. However she needed to process her pain, he would process it with her as one.
“She needs time.”
“She needs food and fluids, Christian.”
“I’ve already forced enough on her.”
“You would be saving her from suffering. It’s your duty to protect her.”
“I’m aware of my duty and my right to run my home as I see fit.”
Family law forbade an outsider from commenting on any couple’s private conduct, whether married or mated. He believed she would eventually make the right choice. He just hoped she didn’t wait too long.
Eleazar held up his palms. “Fair enough. But might I suggest compulsion? She wouldn’t have to know.”
“How often do you lie to Larissa?”
The bishop grimaced. “You have a point.
“I’m hoping, in time, she comes to me willingly.”
Truth be told, immortals could go without nutrition for decades. He hoped she’d come to him before her body shut down to preserve energy. Desiccation was painful, and he wasn’t sure he could respect her choice if she took this self-harm that far. It could take a century or more for an immortal to actually starve to the point of death. She couldn’t possibly be that willful.
“Very well.” The bishop returned to the front door. “I’ll let you get back to your mate. Congratulations, my friend.”
“Thank you.” Christian walked the bishop out, his heart consumed with worry and his spirits too low to feel deserving of any praise.
Once back inside, he faced the den reluctantly. With a sigh, he slowly crossed the threshold. Delilah remained exactly where he left her, eyes closed but not asleep.
If they were companions, he’d tell her immortals could sense such things, but at the moment they seemed more like enemies, so he kept his knowledge to himself. Their mental link was the only connection they shared, and he did not want to lose that as well.
