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Grace laughs bitterly, pushing my hands away. “You lied the whole time. You can’t deny that. Every single time you didn’t tell me the truth, you were playing me for a fool.”
“You weren’t a fool. You were and are the woman I love. The past is just that, bay. We will start over,” I tell her.
“How are we supposed to start over when we have never truly begun, Seven?”
“Now who’s lying? We started something, Gracie. You can’t deny that.”
“You can’t start anything when it’s built on a foundation of half-truths and outright lies, Seven,” she huffs through clenched teeth.
“You can argue all you want, but it’s not like you can deny the chemistry between us and the bond we have.”
“I don’t feel that. I’m not like you.” Her words hurt, more than I expected them to.
“Grace, at least have the courage to accept that. The truth is you don’t know who or what you are, but the bond between us is strong. You feel it. I know you do. If you deny that, you’re dooming us both.
“How can you say that? You don’t know me, Seven. For that matter, tell me why I would tie myself to someone I can’t trust for the rest of my life? I don’t even know what you are,” she adds, pain and anger bleeding in her voice.
“I’m just a man, Grace. That’s how you need to see me. I’m just a fucking man. My whole life my only value was wrapped up in what I am. To you, damn it, I am just a man. Your man.”
“You’re a liar,” she whispers.
“Men make mistakes, Grace. Let’s say I was only a normal human. Chances are I would’ve hurt you then, too—because it’s my job to make sure you’re safe. But the point is I want to make it better. I want to fight for you.”
Grace starts shaking her head. “You only want to do that because you feel compelled by this whole mating thing, Seven. Whatever it is, it’s urging you to do that. That’s all. It’s not real.”
I reach out, trying to take her hand but she pulls it away. I grab it anyway and place it over my heart, putting mine over hers so she can’t pull it away. “It is real, Grace. I’m real. Do you feel my heart beating for you? Beating in time with yours? I feel that pull and you do too.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head urgently.
“It is and yet you are still denying me. We all have free will. Fuck! Scar did unthinkable things to his own mate. The pull between mates is physical, but the love? The need I have for you, sweetheart, is all emotional. And if you think I’m going to turn my back on it, you’re crazy.”
“How is it ever supposed to work out, Seven? Say we get together and have kids? What will that make our children? Tiny vampires, who see dead people?” she asks, harshly.
“Vampire?” I ask.
“Oracle may have been giving me some supernatural version of CliffsNotes to what everyone is, and vampire seems to sum you up.” She scrunches up her face, like she’s still not sure any of this is real. I don’t blame her.
“I want you to see me as a man. That’s it, Gracie. That’s it. It can be that simple if you will just let it.”
I know I hurt her. I need to be the one to build her trust back, but she has to let me. She’s got to take that step and give me a chance.
“But—”
I stop her before she can argue further. “If I get blessed enough that you forgive me and we do have kids, then whatever our kids can or can’t do won’t matter. We will love and protect them together.”
“I know you want more, but I’m just not sure...”
“Let me come back to our room tonight. We can just take it day by day, but you need to give me a chance because if you don’t, we will both regret it for the rest of our lives. I know you know that if you will just admit it to yourself.”
She stares at me. I don’t make a move. I let her take whatever time she needs—even if it does feel like a lifetime before she finally speaks again.
“Fine, but sex is not only off the table, it’s thrown out the window and may never be found again,” she says, sighing.
“Understood.” I nod. We can just use a bed and save the table for the future.
“I heard that,” she says giving me a pointed look. I can’t help but smile.
“I meant for you to, Gracie.”
33
GRACE
I wake up to the room being completely dark. I stifle a yawn, knowing it must be late. I’m not sure why I woke up. I don’t really remember dreaming, which is a good thing. I squint at the bedside clock until I can read the hazy, bright red numbers. Three in the morning. I whimper, closing my eyes. I should not be awake right now.
