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I want to slap that damn smirk off his face.
Howbeautifulmymateis when she’s angry. Her ire burns within her very core, and for a moment, I think she will hit me as I smile at my little joke.
The sun doesn’t kill us.
It didn’t technically lie, I merely didn’t correct her assumption. I need her to realize that she wants to live. Maybe kissing her helped her remember that a little, along with using the bond we share, so she could experience all the positive things I feel instead of just her pain. I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, waiting for what I know is coming. I won’t be the first to break the silence.
SMACK!
She slapped me.
Sheactuallyslapped me.
I sputter then rub my jaw where she hit me. Okay, I deserved that.
“You’re an asshole,” snarls my one true love, looking dangerous with her face, throat, and clothes still covered in blood.
“I am,” I agree. That seems to take her by surprise.
“You let me think we would die.” The tone of her voice makes me worry I’ll get slapped again. I keep a close eye on her hands.
“I never said the sun would kill us, Wren. You did. I just didn’t say otherwise.”
“Lie of omission.” The amount of venom in her words could rival a black widow. She turns her back on me.
My joke was a little mean.
I place my hands on her shoulders and feel her relax. I kiss the top of her head and rest my cheek there. “You wanted to die so badly for something you had no control over. My want for you to live wasn’t going to be enough. You had to want to live.” I play with her hair, running my fingers through it, admiring how the copper shines in the sun. “For what it’s worth, I want forever with you, little bird.”
She turns back to me, letting me hold her. The pressure of her hands running up my chest is delightful. No more keeping my distance. Never again. I can tell her sorrow is still great. If I could take this pain from her, I would. I would take it a thousand times to make her happy again.
“He was awful to me in the end.” She mumbles. “Why do I feel so bad?”
Ah, the age-old conundrum we vampires face when we take life from a human without giving immortality in return. “Because you are still a good person. Wren, when we leave our humanity behind, we only leave the part that makes up our frail bodies, our inevitable deaths. Everything else, our goodness, our passions, we carry them with us to our new life. Your soul is still yours.”
I pull back from her, tilting her head so she looks me in the eyes. “Do you believe me?” I ask. It is the truth, but none of it matters unless she believes it for herself. Spencer’s death had been accidental. I don’t think Wren meant to do it on any level, even as awful as he had been. If she had been merged with herself and had her memories before she found him, he would still be alive.
“Yes.” Her voice is firm. I pull her into a kiss, tasting her. She kisses me back with ferocity and fire.
There she is.
I grip the back of her neck, holding her to me—my other hand rests on her hip. I open my mind and let my emotions pour through the bond. With time, she can learn to control it herself and block me if she wants to. It is challenging but not impossible. I’m surprised I didn’t slip up more and get caught with the secret.
It helps that the bond is useful too. When she was consumed with fear at the lake, I could sense it before she rose from the depths and I was able to be there to meet her. When she was angry with me in the cave while wanting me at the same time, I could feel her frustration with me. Now, I can feel the love she has in her heart. She accepts the idea of being my mate without much question, having felt the same pull I do.
To cement the bond, I expose every part of myself to her. Nothing is held back. Every longing feeling I’ve had, every dark thought, my self-doubt. The way I crave to be near her. Each time I almost let slip that I heard something from her not meant for me. How I relish every touch, and how it pains me to stop. Every intimate moment between us that I worship in my memory.
Wren pours herself right back into me.
Her unrelenting joy with her family, and the pride she takes in her work. The terror she felt with Spencer, the sense of safety she feels with me. Her mind is naked before me. Insecurities, sadness, joy, and passion. She gives me the times she touched herself, imagining it was me. She gives me her darkest fantasies. I devour them all. Every single piece of her being is mine.
After all this waiting, I want to rip her clothes off and take her here in the woods.
Grinding my hips against her, I let her feel what she does to me. She gasps, releasing my lips, and I attack her throat the way she likes. Rewarded with a pleasure-filled moan, I send my hands searching her body. Igniting it, awakening her desire as only I can. And I feel it flood from her. Heat and wanting, she’d have surrendered to me ages ago if I had let it get this far. But no, I made her wait.
She once thought I was stupid for denying her my touch.
I have to agree.
