Page 75 of Nightshade

Nobody. For so long, nobody had felt anything for me, and there Leo was, feeling . . .

Feeling words that Prudence said like “passion” and “love” and things that I thought were lost to me, but there he was, this perfect miracle in my arms who sobbed into my mouth like he was starving for me, desperate for me to pull him closer.

And all I wanted to do was gather him up in my hands, bundled safe and warm, and promise him that I knew what this meant and I took it seriously. I wouldn’t hurt him. Not ever. Not if I walked this world a thousand more years or died tomorrow, I wouldn’t repay his care with harm.

I kissed him until Evie whistled and I felt heat flooding beneath Leo’s cheeks, radiating against my skin.

With a shaky sigh, I dropped onto my heels, but I stayed close. Leo’s arms had slipped around my waist, and if the world were perfect, we’d get to stay just like that forever.

With my feet flat on the ground again, I loosened my hold on him only to cup my palm over that mark that was more about his wonderful heart than anything I’d done. I hadn’t hurt him.

I’d mated him, and while I got the distinct impression that I knew less about what that meant than I ought to, a strange warmth suffused my chest.

That he felt any way about me was such an impossible thing, but more? Maybe Prudence was right, because hearing that Leo had feelings for me, I wasn’t empty and cold. I didn’t want to take anything from him, but protect him and give him the world. My world, little and pitiful as it was.

One thing I knew without a doubt: when I’d been human, I could’ve loved a man like Leo. No, back then I wouldn’t have imagined falling in love with a white man, but that hadn’t stopped me from falling into Ivan’s bed.

If I’d known Leo back then, I’d have teased him, sure. Maybe I’d have played hard to get. But I could’ve loved him.

If I’d had a single reasonable thought in my head, it would’ve been impossible to avoid loving him.

So right then, I was going to believe Prudence and not Ivan, because I wanted to. I wanted to be the kind of creature who could love Leo like he deserved, and if that meant working at it, even while I was uncertain that I was that good, so be it. I would, to see him happy.

His little smile was wavering on his face. He looked hopeful now, and I wanted to stoke that flame. Maybe I didn’t know what I was capable of, and maybe words were hard, but a future with him? I could imagine it.

“Will you promise me something?” I whispered.

Leo nodded, his eyes clear and serious, because he was a silly werewolf with an oversized heart who would take me entirely at my word.

“Stay with me,” I said. “Don’t get hurt. Don’t leave me. Stay.”

He blinked. “Okay.”

I nodded too fast, my tongue thick and dry in a way that made me swallow.

Looking into his eyes was too much. I shoved into the circle of his arms, squeezing around his neck and burying my face against his skin.

I’d left a mark there. My mark, which wasn’t an injury but something else, and when I kissed it, I pressed all my fragile hopes against his skin and begged the universe to let me keep him.

CHAPTER 39

Leo

Viktor was annoyed, and I could smell it, but I didn’t want to turn toward him, didn’t want to talk to him in that moment, because I was angry with him.

This was something private. Something that should have just been between Altair and me. Love confessions weren’t for public places, damn it all.

Behind me, he sighed impatiently, and I almost turned and snapped at him.

Before I could, though, he spoke, and his tone was as annoyed as I expected, but the words weren’t what I’d been bracing for. “He was wrong.”

I turned and looked over my shoulder, trying to figure out if he was even talking to or about us, but he was still staring directly at Altair, who looked as confused as I felt.

“About emotions,” he clarified, when he realized we were both looking at him with no comprehension. “I don’t . . . He—Ivan might not have any emotions other than anger, but you do.”

That seemed to confuse Altair even more, as he squinted at my brother.

Me? I realized . . . Viktor wasn’t annoyed with Altair anymore. He was annoyed more generally, because in some small way, he was being forced to eat his words. He’d been wrong, and he was admitting it. And who liked doing that?