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One
The sun burned hot on my back, spreading warmth through my body as I lay on the sand. Waves crashed into the beach and water licked at my toes. The tide was coming in, and even though Dastien and I should move, I couldn’t make myself get up. Maybe I would’ve if the ocean weren’t so warm, but the water was perfect, cooling me off just enough to temper the heat of the sun.
We can move if you want, Dastien said through our bond.
Shhh, I sent back to my mate. The weather was so amazing, but I’d been trying to force a vision of what was going on at St. Ailbe’s for the last hour. I hadn’t seen anything in weeks—not since we left Ireland—and it was starting to freak me out. Don’t distract me.
You’re stressing about it, but maybe you’re not getting a vision because everything is okay, Dastien said.
I let out a long sigh. Maybe, but my gut told me that wasn’t right.
Do you want to check your phone?
Dastien had wanted a zero distractions rule for the beach portion of our honeymoon. We’d already travelled to Dastien’s house in France, which was more castle than house. Been clubbing in Paris. Gone to Meredith’s Full Moon Ceremony in Ireland. But when we got here, it was just us, and we liked it that way. So, we’d decided to ban our phones. That meant no texting. No checking email or social media. No internet use of any kind—well, except streaming Netflix at night, but that was it.
St. Ailbe’s—a now not-so-secret boarding school for werewolves—was closed and the public’s interest in werewolves had slowed down enough that we could fully check out for a bit. With that evil witch Luciana dead, Mr. Dawson (the Alpha of the St. Ailbe’s pack), the Council of the Seven (the Alphas that governed the werewolves), and the Cazadores (the werewolves’ version of soldiers) were all way more than capable of dealing with supernatural mayhem than we were. Which meant that Dastien and I were more than able to take time for ourselves. Our honeymoon had started out as a couple weeks, but we’d been having so much fun, we ended up extending it.
I shouldn’t check my phone, but I wanted to. “If I can’t see anything by this afternoon, then yes. We should probably check-in.” Forcing a vision was a little like cheating the no distractions rule anyway, but it felt different. Honestly, it’d been really nice not having my phone the last couple of weeks. Mr. Dawson had the number to the landline—we were borrowing his beach house—so if he needed us, he’d call. I trusted him. Which meant I should assume everything was fine.
A niggle of anxiety started to build and it took me a second to realize that it wasn’t my own, but Dastien’s. That stank. I didn’t want him to worry about my worrying, but ever since we completed our mate bond, our emotions and thoughts had gotten a little tangled. We could read each other completely, and sometimes, I felt like I was in two places at once. It wasn’t a bad thing exactly, but it was an adjustment.
Over the past six weeks, I’d learned to filter out most of it. Only Dastien’s strongest thoughts and feelings came through now, which was totally manageable. He chose not to filter out as many of my thoughts, but I didn’t mind him listening in. I didn’t have anything to hide.
“I like knowing what you’re thinking,” Dastien said.
I sat up so I could see him. Werewolves healed too fast to tan, but Dastien’s skin naturally had a hint of gold in it, unlike my own pasty white. He was wearing a blue swimsuit and no shirt, which I appreciated. His abs and chest and shoulder and arms… I was biased, but he was perfect. He grinned as the last thought crossed my mind.
I pushed a curl of still-drying dark brown hair from his forehead. “Doesn’t knowing what I’m thinking all the time take away some of the mystery?”
His eyebrows rose above the frame of his golden aviator sunglasses. “No. Do you think it takes away the mystery from me?”
“No. I don’t think so?” I wasn’t sure how to answer that. Dastien was pretty much my first everything. Before he bit me, I had zero control over my visions. Every time I touched anyone or anything, I’d see things—emotions, thoughts, most recent events tied to the person or object. All things I had no business seeing. My visions made it next to impossible to have friends, let alone date. So, I’d never really known what a relationship was before we became true mates, and I liked us. Knowing what Dastien was thinking and feeling made things easier. There were no misunderstandings, and I’d found that we were usually on the same page, or as close to it as two people could get.
“I like us, too.” He sat up. “And our life has plenty of mystery. There’s a lot we can’t control. All the supernaturals have been outed, and all but a few of the fey have gone into hiding. I’m not sure what the backlash is going to be from all this change. Knowing where you are and how you’re feeling…that you’re alive and well and safe? It makes me feel secure.”
“Secure?” I laughed. That wasn’t what I’d expected him to say. I guessed I shouldn’t worry about the whole mystery thing anymore.
“Exactly. So, don’t worry about filtering if you don’t want to. Go ahead and poke around in my head at your leisure.” He gave me a big grin, dimples pressing deep into his cheeks.
“At my leisure?” I said, unable to stop grinning back at him. I couldn’t see his eyes through his sunglasses, but I knew their amber color would be glowing just the tiniest bit—which meant he was happy. His dark hair was still a little too long, the curls falling into his face. He was planning on having it cut as soon as we got back, but I liked him no matter what.
The man was beautiful, and just looking at him made my heart sing. And the fact that he knew me—every weird part of me—and he st
