She gets to her feet and brushes a little dirt off her knee.
“Um, Lana told me you wanted to see me again, but I don’t really know why?” she asks, as she folds her arms in front of her.
She looks up at me, clearly waiting for an answer.
I don’t know what to say as I gaze back at her.
The silence stretches out awkwardly between us.
Everything I’ve been holding inside breaks apart the second she tries to give me a smile.
For every shitty day that passed while she was in this place, alone, I want to scream at my stupidity for allowing her to stay here without me. And for everything that happened to her before I took her out of that fucking house, I want to kill the men responsible.
This woman standing in front of me, the one who’s clearly afraid to know what I’m here for, is beyond a shadow of a doubt my true mate, and I never want to lose sight of her ever again.
I move closer, operating entirely on instinct.
Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t back away.
Leaning in close, I reach for her left hand with mine.
She allows my fingers to close around hers, and some of the worry slips out of her expression as I place the back of her hand against my chest, right where she put it the night I rescued her, while we were in the back of the car, driving away from Ivan Hamilton’s house.
I hold it there, not wanting to let go now that I’m touching her.
“You weren’t safe for a long time,” I start, finally able to find the words. “And I know you feel safe here at the academy, but I also know the first place you really felt safe was in my arms, the night you ran right into me in that hallway where you used to live.”
She presses her lips together, her bright eyes starting to water as she stares back at me.
For a split second, I doubt my instinct to touch her in order to start this conversation.
I start to move my hand, and her fingers curl possessively to keep it with hers.
“I did feel safe with you,” she whispers, before she straightens slightly and adds much more clearly, “I still do.”
“There’s a reason for that,” I reveal, as I raise my free hand to stroke the side of her face.
She leans into the touch, closing her eyes.
The tears that drip from her lashes roll down her lightly freckled cheeks as she lets out a soft sigh. I wipe away those tears gently, and when she opens her eyes her gaze fixes on mine.
“This can’t be real,” she murmurs.
“It can’t?” I ask, desperate to know what she’s thinking.
“It’s too much like a movie.”
“A movie?”
Her cheeks flush as she nods. “A rom-com. You know the kind. Alpha meets Omega. Sparks fly … Only, I’m not an Omega, so it feels like I must be lost in a daydream.”
“This is completely real,” I assure her. “If it feels like a daydream, that’s because we’re fated mates. The connection you felt when we met, the one that made you feel safe, it’s a true mate bond.”
She blinks at me. “A true mate bond? Okay. NowI knowI’m dreaming.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Robin
