I don’t want to be the reason anyone else gets hurt, even if I hate the fact that it might be a self-serving excuse to let myself have something I don’t deserve.
While I may not be able to simply accept that shit happened and move past it, I’m able to at least accept the fact that this mate thing isn’t going anywhere either. And while it makes perfect sense for the guy that was raised with this sort of lore being a possibility, I was raised human in a sea of supernaturals. Boring, unimpressive, and with no godly intervention to pick out the perfect husband for me, needing to rely on my judgment and a hell of a lot of hope that I didn’t fuck it up before I was too old to fling myself back into the dating pool.
For all of the numbers that humans have in their favor in this broken, mutated world, it’s an incredibly lonely existence.
“Stay?” The word is barely a whisper out of my mouth, but it may as well be a scream, seeming to echo around the otherwise silent bedroom.
You’d think I’d told the guy I discovered the cure for mage-pox with the way his body slumps in physical relief. “You sure?”
Biting my lip, I pause. If I were to have another nightmare, I very easily could maul him as I thrashed around in the bed, could slice his belly open with my claws in a flash before I recognized my surroundings as I came out of it. But that intoxicating electric current is still licking across my skin, his magic attempting to crawl out of his body and into mine, staking a claim by branding me from within. Rather than flinching away from it like I’ve been, afraid of surrendering to the pull and falling into a false sense of security, I take stock of whatI’mfeeling instead of my body’s physical response.
Malcolm doesn’t feel safe simply because of my desire for absolution, the desperate need of a safe haven as my life falls apart, or lust driving my brain into my vagina. From the moment he freed me from the chair I was strapped to in that basement surrounded by caged shifters and vamps, he’s tried to help me. Endlessly patient through my sobbing breakdowns, my violent knee-jerk reactions to being startled, and biting back his fury as I filled in the gaps where I could. He goes out of his way to ease my conscience and make me feel human again, but... better.
And the feedings. My gods, the feedings.
I might not be willing to completely surrender, but I can’t deny that some sort of truce sounds too enticing to ignore.
“I’m sure.”
Sliding over in the oversized bed to make room for him, we rearrange ourselves until he’s stretched out on his back and my head is on his chest. He wraps an arm around me and hesitantly begins stroking a languid path over my arm, his featherlight touch becoming more sure when I don’t flinch away. All of the compounded stress ebbs from my tense body as I inhale the faint scent of his cologne, my heartbeat falling into sync with his as I close my eyes.
“Go to sleep,” he murmurs, sounding as content as I feel. “If you start to get restless, I’ll wake you up before you sink too far so you don’t need to worry, alright?”
Humming my agreement, I begin to drift off, focusing on his chest rising and falling beneath my cheek, attempting to ground myself to the moment so I don’t freak out again. Everything may have been ripped away from me in a flash of fangs, terror, and so much pain, but if I’m being honest with myself? I wasn’t torn away from anything worthwhile. And while right now things are harder than anything life prepared me to deal with, for the first time, I’m not in it alone.
Chapter 2
Malcolm
––––––––
Waking up with theworld’s most painful hard on isn’t anything new. The sound of my mate’s soft snores as she sleeps on, curled against me without nightmares plaguing her for once, and knowing it might have something to do with me, though? I don’t think I’ve ever felt more at peace.
These last four months have been absolute torture. Hearing her screams, desperately wanting to help her, only to make everything ten times worse the first time she drew blood in her dazed panic. Watching her shrink farther in on herself with every passing day as her anxiety fed her fears of losing control, adding my body to the ones that haunt her dreams. All the while, I struggle with the reins on my magic, the energy wanting to burst out of me with all of the subtlety of a bomb.
Now, the angry snakes of lightning thrashing around in my chest that have become my constant companions slumber as peacefully as the woman pressed into my side. This. This is right, the absolute contentment and peace that so many people chase until their dying breaths; a reason to exist,myreason.
