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I stiffen and pull back from him, reeling at what he just said. “What?”
“It’s okay,” he says. “You don’t have to say anything right now.”
“I kind of think I do, don’t you?” The warmth of that toe-curling kiss feels like it’s evaporating, which makes me sad.
“What I mean is that you don’t need to give me a response to what I just said. I just need you to know why I’m doing this with you. That I’m happy to do this with you.”
“What do you mean by ‘this’?” I feel my brows pull together, though the question seems unnecessary.
He looks uncomfortable for a moment. “This… Being with you through these moments. Being around when you need me.”
I pinch my lips together, considering this. “Thank you,” I eventually say. “I understand.” I don’t, really. What the hell is going on? Why is my beast still taking over? Why is he telling me we’re mates?
Because we are.
The thought comes out of the blue, and I’m reeling again.
That can’t be right.
But what if it is?
My eyes track over his face, tracing the lines that have become so familiar to me now. It’s a face that I’ve started seeking out above all others. Even my own mother didn’t seem like a safe space when things turned bad.
I wanted him. Barrett was the one I needed when I felt like I was losing control.
Why? Is it because he’s been around whenever I’ve come back from these things? Is that all it is? Is it because I feel like I can cope better when he’s near me?
Or is it more?
“I told you that I don’t need you to give me any answers right now.” He strokes my cheek with his fingertip. “I meant that.”
I give a small nod. My face is still damp from when I’d been weeping, and I think about how he’d kissed the tears away. It makes my heart clench.
“I’m sorry.” I sigh, rolling over onto my back. It occurs to me that I spend an awful lot of time curled up on this man, considering I’ve only known him for a few days. “I’m not normally so flaky. It’s just that…”
“You’re not flaky. And nobody could blame you for not being yourself right now. God, Cedara…I don’t even want to think about the nightmare you’ve lived through.” Barrett shifts onto his side and props his head up on his hand, looking at me.
I turn my head to face him. “That’s no excuse for what’s been happening.”
“It’s exactly the excuse for what’s happening. And it’s not an excuse. It’s the reason.”
“Reason…excuse… It’s all semantics.” I gnaw on my lip, thinking of what happened tonight. I lost control in a house full of people. My family. Young ones. I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m a menace, Barrett.”
“Don’t say things like that. You’re not a menace.”
“I attacked you, didn’t I?”
“Yeah…well, maybe I liked it.” He winks at me. I can’t find it in myself to see the bright side of this.
“I don’t buy that. I hurt you.” I reach out and touch his collar lightly. I know there’s still a wound there.
“That’s different.” He puts his hand up and rests it over mine, pressing my fingertips against the indentations I can feel in his skin. “That’s your mark.”
I blink at him. “How do you know that?”
He gives a one-shouldered shrug, his hand still warm over mine. “I have no idea. I just do. I knew it from the beginning; I just didn’t realize it at first.” He lifts my hand in his and raises it to his lips, pressing a kiss against my knuckles. I stare at him as he does it. “Didn’t you feel something?” he asks.
I say nothing at first because I can’t deny it. There’d definitely been something…from the very first moment. “Yes, I felt something. I just don’t know—”
