“No,” I say, drawing in a deep breath. “It’s fine. I just…I haven’t said it out loud before.”
“Ever?”
I shake my head.
The only person who knows is Elsie, and that’s only because she was there when Isaac told me. I haven’t felt the need or the desire to speak of it since. But if I’m going to keep feeding from Elliot so regularly, he should know the risks.
So, before the swelling in my throat makes me change my mind, I say the words as fast as I can.
“My mom ate him.”
Elliot’s brows lift until they’re practically in his hairline, but realization dawns quickly, and he pushes away from the bike, reaching for me.
“Oh, Iris…” he says. “You thought that I…Fuck, that’s…”
Fucked up. Yeah.
He rests his hands on my hips as he shakes his head.
“Baby, you couldneverdrain me. You’d pass out before you even got close.”
His sage, green eyes are darker as he looks at me, but they’re no less earnest than they’ve always been. He believes what he’s saying, but he wouldn’t be so confident if he’d seen what I’ve seen.
“Elliot, you don’t under?—”
“No, I do,” he interjects. “I understand, perfectly. I know exactly how much you take. I can feel every drop, every time. And I know my limits. It takes five grown wolves just to bring me to my knees. You might be able to do the same with a single glance, but I promise you, it would take a lot more to put me down.”
My cheeks burn hot as he fixes me with a cool stare, and I’m grateful that my brown skin hides the flush on my face. Although knowing Elliot, he can probably smell the sweat pouring out of me.
“What if you’re wrong?” I ask. “What if I?—”
“I’m not. And you won’t.”
There is a tone of finality in his voice, rendering the conversation over, but he doesn’t step away. Instead, he moves closer, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on top of my head.
“You won’t,” he repeats, a little softer this time.
I let him hold me for a few seconds even though I think he’s wrong.
Elliot’s never been easily dissuaded, and whatever I say now will not change that. So I don’t say anything at all. I simply wait for the knot in my stomach to dissipate.
“I’d better get inside,” I say, pulling away.
But Elliot catches me by the wrists before I make it very far.
“Wait,” he says. “I…I talked to Tara.”
The knot returns.
“You what?” I blurt. “When?”
“Last night. When I got back, she was waiting for me.”
“What’d she say?”
Elliot cringes.
“Not much, but I don’t think she’s our problem.”
