Too bad he'd been willing to let me die.
I'd lost him. Now I was losing my fated mate too.
Somehow, losing Jonah hurt less than losing Niall had. Probably because I'd never really had Jonah, and I'd known without a shadow of a doubt that Niall was mine.
Niall's stupidly gorgeous face appeared in the hole beneath mine that I always left for breathing's sake. "Hey, Livvy."
"No. I can't do this." I was still hyperventilating, taking fast, shallow breaths as my emotions and my magic teamed up to create the perfect storm.
"Do you remember the first time I held you like this? We were just fuck buddies. Go back there."
"We can't go back. You ruined it."
"I still know you and your magic better than anyone else. We're doing the thing we do when you panic."
"No, Niall."
"Do the thing," he repeated, his voice so chest-achingly calm while his eyes blazed with that endless intensity. He wasn't going to leave me to deal with this alone, no matter what I said.
"Do you want me to do it?"he asked, when I didn't do it.
"No." My voice cracked.
"Yes, you do."
I groaned between panicked breaths. "Fine. I do. Do it."
"We're talking about the worst-case scenario, right here and now."
I squeezed my eyes shut and jerked my head in a nod.
"You'll never see Jonah again. Whatever friendship you had is gone. You won't ever get to experience a fated mate bond. You'll have to deal with your magic's shittery for the rest of immortality."
I nodded, my face scrunched and my tears dripping onto his cheeks. He didn't mind the tears. He never did.
He pulled my forehead down to his, so they were pressed together.
That was the rule ofthe thing we did when I had panic attacks.
We talked through it, and he got to touch another part of me every time we got past something else. Not sexually; it wasn't about sex. It was about getting back in control, and the physical contact helped, for some reason.
"There's got to besomethinggood about that scenario. At least you're not officially mated to a man who's in love with a curly werewolf," Niall said mildly.
A pathetic burst of laughter escaped me, a break in my frantic breaths.
"He didn't want to fuck you, so he's obviously shitty in bed," Niall added. I could tell it took him a serious amount of effort to pretend he could talk about that without feeling rage.
"It wasn't good," I admitted, more tears falling free as I took a staggered breath in.
"You deserve better." Niall's words came out gravelly. I knew he was probably fighting possessiveness as he slipped his hand around the back of my neck.
"I know. And he wasn't going to quit that job. I would've been tied to the villa forever." My breathing was slowing, just a little. I still had to take breaths between the sentences, but they were deeper breaths.
"We hate the villa, right?"
"Yeah. We hate it a lot."
He tugged on the blanket until he found one of my hands, and pulled it to rest on his chest so I could feel the heavy beat of his heart.
