The most frightening and happiest moment in my life blurred my vision.
Di was lying on that bed when I saw the blood on his hand. A wave of sensations hit me all at once.
The scent of him – woods and ocean – but not just smell. Recognition. The way you recognize your own name being called from across a room.
The shivers of rightfulness. Of possession. As if every cell in my body was suddenly oriented toward one fixed point, and that point was an eighteen-year-old boy in a hospital bed with bruised ribs and a broken arm and a streak of dried blood on the back of his hand.
The twist in my gut at seeing him hurt, and at the same time, the unbearable, terrifying joy at finding him.
My eyes burned with rage. A roar of anger rose in my throat at the thought of who had hurt him, a sound I had to swallow back so it wouldn't escape and tear the whole hospital apart.
And then, beneath all of it, beneath the fear and the relief and the rage… one word arrived.
One word.
One feeling so vast it almost brought me to my knees.
Mate.
The word ricocheted through my mind, my body, every cell of my being. It wasn't a thought. It was a recognition that had been waiting since the first time I'd seen him in the kitchen at midnight, and now it had finally found its voice.
Diablos… was my mate.
“Dagon!” Diablos's voice snapped me back to the present.
Tears gathered in my eyes, but I held them back.
Would it matter if I told him the truth now? He would see the real me tomorrow, and I'd lose him. But I didn’t know if I was strong enough anymore. He deserved to know why everything changed. Besides, hadn’t I already hurt him enough? Tomorrow, the last pieces of the puzzle would fall into place, and I could give him some of the answers now. No matter what it would mean for us.
Either way, I was always on the losing side. Diablos was never mine, and he would never be. If I could lessen his pain by giving him answers, I’d cut myself open and tell him the truth. Fuck everything else. Pulling away from him had been a mistake from the start.
Maybe I'd lose him again, but at least he would have the answers I knew he had wanted for years. It was the least I could give him. I met his eyes for the first time since I pulled over.
It was time.
Chapter twenty-one
Diablos
My heart was a ticking bomb, and I was sure sooner or later it would explode. I couldn’t hold back any longer. Years of pent-up anger, pain, confusion, and missing Dagon crashed into me like a tidal wave. All my justifications for his reasons were swept away, and only an undiluted need to know the truth remained.
The past couple of days had been some of the best in my life.
I got him back.
But today, he pulled away again, quietly simmering with his feelings behind his walls. I couldn’t take it anymore. No, I wouldn’t take it anymore.
The strangest part of all? I didn’t want to hide behind my walls, either. He'd found the cracks and come through them forthe past few days. Now, I wanted to take a hammer, destroy them all, and let him in.
I wanted Dagon next to me. Truly next to me. But for that to happen, I needed answers.
“For once in your life, tell me the fucking truth!” My words were dripping with anger and pain.
Dagon raised his head, looked at me, took a deep breath, and said, “You’re right. You deserve the truth.”
Even though I wanted that, I was taken aback by his words. I expected to argue with him. I expected us to fight. Slowing the rush of anger, I took him in. His hands were in his lap, balled into fists. His body and jaw were tightly coiled. I would've thought he was preparing for a fight if I hadn’t known better.
However, I knew… the opposite of preparing for a fight was preparing for pain.
