He cuts me off with a quick, fierce kiss, taking my chin in hand and holding my gaze. “The center builds their bondgroup; full stop. I’m under no illusions that I’ll be your only mate, and even then, that’s what dating’s for. For you to get to know me better and see if you want to keep me around long term. All that I ask is that you let me know if and when those sort of things happen so I’m not blindsided.”
I may not have a lot of experience with relationships, but even I know one built on secrets or lies of omission is doomed to fail. So, heart threatening to beat out of my chest and waiting for him to take back everything he said, I blurt, “I’ve met two. One didn’t want anything to do with me, and the other…” I carefully choose my words, “it’s complicated. I think there’s something there, but he's not in a good place right now. I’m working with him on it, though. Had a date with someone that isn’t a fated mate, too, but not sure what’s going on with that, either.”
A worried frown creases his brow as he absorbs my words. “I’m happy to help.”
“I might very well take you up on that. But give me a chance to try on my own first? I don’t know how well he’d do if I tried bringing a stranger around right now.”
His eyes narrow slightly, but eventually, he concedes with a slow nod. “Remember what I said; we’re a team. If you have a problem, I hope you’ll come to me if it gets to be too much to handle on your own. Or even if you simply want someone to help shoulder the burden.” He sighs. “But I know it’ll take time for you to believe I’m not just blowing smoke up your ass. Can you at least promise that if whatever bad situation he’s in starts to spillover to you, you’ll fill me in? It’s one thing to step asidewhilehestruggles, and another completely to let him drag you down with him.”
I press my lips softly against his. “I promise. Though I’ll have to get a new phone before I can shoot you an S.O.S.”
His thumb softly caresses my jaw. “Noted. Now, let me get these bags-”
“Oh, I’ve got it, don’t worry.”
“Kiara.” Raising an eyebrow in challenge, he unbuckles. “Whatever men you were raised around clearly need their asses kicked.”
But he doesn’t understand; that’s not it. The people I grew up around were either mimics escaping traumatic situations and everyone went above and beyond to care for them, centers that had people courting them left and right, or bonded mates that fawned over each other.
I just wasn’t one of them.
Nobody wanted to risk bonding the broken myst and having it affect their abilities, or worse, finding out if my problem is a genetic quirk. Another generation of mysts with power problems? Heaven forbid.
Unloading the trunk, Stryker loops all the bags on one arm and carries them to my doorstep. When I thank and take them from him, holding my key but making no move to unlock my door, he frowns, but doesn’t push it. Of course he doesn’t; he was clearly raised well. He isn’t about to invite himself into a woman’s house at night when she’s clearly not offering.
He cups my cheek softly, dipping down to kiss me goodbye. “Make sure to lock your door. I'll see you soon.”
I wait until he’s back in his car to open my door, but he doesn’t pull away until I have it closed behind me. Flipping the lock, I barely get my coat off and drop my keys on the end table before I’m pushed up against the wall.
One hand on my collar bone, my shifter pins me in place. His other arm rests against the wall above my head, caging me in as a low growl rumbles through his chest. Every beat of my heart hammers against his palm, but I keep my tone soft as I tease, “If this is the kind of welcome home I can expect, I might have to leave more often. Kind of hot, not gonna lie.”
His fingers flex at the base of my throat before he uses a thumb to bend my head to the side, exposing my throat. Without a shred of shame, he buries his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deep. Whatever he scents has that growl ratcheting up to an all out snarl, and his palm slides up to collar my throat. There isn’t any pressure behind it, or even any aggression aimed my way. It’s more… possessive. Like he’s pissed off someone else’s scent is onhismate, and maybe I’m fucked up, but heat pools between my thighs and I squirm against him. I can tell the moment he picks up on my arousal, stiffening against me as his snarl cuts off abruptly. He takes another deep breath, fingers flexing on my throat.
“Sorry I was gone so long, I didn’t mean to make you worry.” Slowly, I put a hand to his bare chest, and a deep purr stutters to life. After a weighted moment, he leans into my touch.
Eventually, he pulls back enough that I can see his eyes, and I suck in a breath of my own. While still wild, there’s a clarity there I wasn’t expecting. His nostrils flare, and I watch as some of that clarity gives way to his animalistic instincts, a hard glint of aggression and… fear?
Without preamble, he releases my throat to grab the collar of my shirt and yanks it away from my body, looking down my top. “Seriously?” I quirk an eyebrow. “If this is your idea of foreplay, it’s… well, it’s actually kind of doing it for me, but-” I suck in a breath as his rough palm slides up beneath the hem of my shirt, the heat searing my skin as he skates his hand over my stomach and up my sides, ending at my rib cage. His thumb brushesagainst the underside of my breast as he invades my personal space, stepping closer and holding me steady as his other hand starts at my wrist, working his way up my arm to check for injury, because it’s the only thing that makes sense; he picked up on the scent of blood, not just Stryker. I did my best to clean up in a gas station bathroom on the way home, but shifter senses are on another level.
I flinch as he reaches the sore spot on my forearm and he jerks away from me instantly before tentatively grabbing my wrist in a gentle, firm grip, spinning my arm to inspect it. When he sees the handshaped bruise darkening my skin? That last bit of clarity is drowned out in a tidal wave of fury.
Before he can lose his shit and destroy the house, I hover my hand above the wound and start healing. “Hey, it’s okay. Watch.” Healing myself is complicated. I have to both concentrate on healing, and lean into the feeling encouraging me to relax and let the ability do its job putting everything back to rights without losing focus. It doesn’t help knowing the pain and exhaustion waiting in store for me after, either.
His brow scrunches up in confusion as he watches the bruises fade away, and I smile softly for that peaceful three seconds before the pain hits. My plan was to stuff my hand in my pocket, but I barely brush against the fabric before his hand darts out to catch my wrist. I try to tug it away, closing my eyes in defeat as the burning starts in my fingertips, spreading past my wrist. I know the moment he spots the black veins, his growl reverberating through the room as he shifts his hold to gently inspect my arm, aggressive panic radiating off of him until I’m practically choking on it.
“Ugly, isn’t it?” I peel my eyes open, giving him a wry, defeated smile. “But nothing to freak out over, it’ll be gone in a couple minutes.” I’m not sure he understands what I’m saying, but he picks up on the fact I’m not freaking out or acting like I’min agony. That’s the one bright side, I suppose; I’ve got one hell of a high pain tolerance.
“Nobody’s been able to figure out why it happens. And trust me, my brother’s spent his entire life searching for answers. Stryker’s the first myst I’ve ever heard of with a similar problem, but even then, it’s different. More erratic and like his power has a will of its own than a blowback after every use.” His confused, worried gaze stays locked on mine, and I see a flicker of clarity attempting to battle its way to the surface, but the whiplash of emotions raging against his primal instincts have him too keyed up and on edge to let him go.
I thump my head back against the wall with a tired laugh. “At least I don’t have to worry about you telling anyone. My brother would lose his shit if he knew how bad it’s gotten, and he’s spent enough of his life taking care of me. He deserves a chance to have his own life, you know? And he’ll never put himself first if he’s always worrying about me. I know I’m going to have to tell Stryker eventually, but it’sniceto be needed for a change. As soon as he finds out, he’s not going to want me to treat him anymore, and I’m not ready for that to end. Hell, if I can figure out what’s wrong with his powers, maybe it’ll be the key to fixing mine.”
He doesn’t respond with words, but the tentative, gentle stroke of his fingertip tracing my tainted veins speak volumes. As they start to fade, his breath hitches, attention rapt on them until the last speck of black disappears, stunned gaze whipping up to meet my eye. So I have a front-row seat to his nostrils flaring as he catches the scent of something that seriously pisses him off.
Without preamble, he crouches down, bands an arm around my thighs, and stands, flipping me over his shoulder as he storms out of the room. I yelp, catching myself before I bash my nose on his back and push against the top of his toned ass to getas upright as I can, but it’s an effort in futility. As soon as he hits the stairs, I’m jostled around too much to put up a solid fight, and before I know it, he’s stepping right into the shower and flipping it on.
“Are you a sociopath?!” I yelp as the icy water hits the back of my legs. “Who the fuck turns on the waterafterthey get in?”
His fingers flex against my thigh, but that’s as much of a reply as I get from the feral lunatic trying to waterboard me with arctic water. Thankfully, it heats up pretty quickly. If it wasn’t for the electric water heater, I’d be royally screwed, but I probably have another week before it follows the gas company’s lead and shuts me off too.
