by Dana Archer
But…he did leave others in charge of the crime scene to take me home tonight. He held me as I cried too. And called me baby, multiple times.
I shift my study away from the sunrise visible in the side mirror to the road leading to my rental. We’re almost there. “You don’t need to stay once you drop me off. Things are going to get nasty once I tell Sam what happened. My sister hated our mom. I mean really hated her. I’m not sure if she’s going to break out the bubbly and celebrate or break down and cry like I did.”
“Did you too?” Uri glances at me, holding my gaze for a brief moment before turning his attention to the road. It’s enough to connect us. “Hate her, I mean. Did you hate your mom too? I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”
The same range of emotions I’ve been dealing with since leaving the city winds through my mind. I study Uri’s profile while the turbulent thoughts settle into one I can express. Uri deserves to hear it. He did care enough to ask for it. “I felt sorry for her mostly, but yeah, I hated her. I also loved her. She did bring me and Sam into this world.”
“Why sorry? Out of all the things I’d expected you to say, that’s not one of them.” Again, Uri casts me another quick look, another encouragement to keep talking. “She hurt you. Hurt Sam. Why feel sorry for her?”
Chin dipped, I push back the anger. It won’t do any good. The woman I’ve always directed it at is dead. “She lost me and Sam. We never associated with her again. Actually, we purposely ignored her.”
“Like you did tonight.”
Shaking my head, I snort. “You caught that, huh?”
“And your reaction to seeing her, yes. I wanted to ask who she was, but decided against it.”
“Why?”
“I’m working on my body language skills, especially where you are concerned. I want to meet your needs.” Uri cuts me another quick look that sends butterflies dancing in my belly.
It’s the wrong time, but this moment of feeling important enough to Uri that he’d care about my emotions and act to meet them is too sweet not to treasure. I dip my head, once again overwhelmed by my feelings in what seems like a swinging pendulum. “Part of her probation was to not contact us. She tried to anyway, multiple times. Gave us all sorts of reasons why we should answer her messages.”
“What kind of reasons?”
“She said she’d sobered up in prison. Got off the drugs. Was a changed woman. Mostly, she wanted to make up for what happened. She was sorry.”
“Did you believe her?”
Uri doesn’t look at me this time, but the tone is enough. He wants to know. A tightness in my chest I hadn’t realized left me anxious eases with my exhaled breath. I lean my head against the headrest.
“Yes…no.” My voice cracks, a reflection of my crazy emotions. “You see, part of me wanted to believe her. I knew better so I didn’t call her back. But… yeah, I wanted to believe she’d changed. For the good times we shared, you know? Those times Sam, my mom, and I laughed and felt like a family.”
“But she didn’t change, did she?” Uri slows the car around the curve right in front of my rental.
Our time is almost up. I don’t want it to be. Talking to Uri about this is helping me get my head in the right place. Sam will need me even if she breaks out the champagne. Once the alcohol kicks in, I’m not sure what my sister will do, but I can’t have her destroying the house. Her temper is a thing to behold.
My sigh is weary and a reflection of my frustration. “My mom was arrested for prostitution not long after she contacted us. When they brought her in, she had drugs in her system. I don’t know about the booze, but I can only guess she took up drinking again too. Like I said, I avoided her, so I can’t be sure.”
Uri takes his foot off the gas and drifts the last few feet before turning into our driveway. Once the car stops, he rests his big hand over my thigh and squeezes my leg gently. “But you cried. You’re hurting. I feel your pain. Can taste it on my tongue. Why?”
“Because I wanted to be the reason she turned her life around.” The truth spills out.
“And you regret that. You regret not trying to save her.” Uri undoes his seat belt and turns toward me, propping his elbow on the steering wheel. “Right?”
Shaking my head, I look down at where my hands are twisted and white-knuckled in my lap. I stretch my fingers, easing the tightness. “Doesn’t matter. You can’t change the past. I didn’t talk to her again. I could’ve but didn’t. That was my choice. There’s no use wondering what might’ve happened had I made a different choice.”
“You’re right. So very right.” Uri drags the back of his hand over my cheek, then turns my head so we’re facing each other. “And it took meeting you for me to realize the past can only chain us to our regrets if we let it own us.”
The look in Uri’s eyes is one a man has never directed at me. I have no name for it, but the warmth spreading through me chases back the cold depression and sadness that’s choked me since leaving the city. I wet my lips and blow out a slow breath to stop my heart from racing. “I helped you realize that? How did I manage that feat?”
Uri leans over and caresses my cheek. The look I have no name for morphs into something my heart understands: devotion.
He brushes his thumbs along my jawline. “By reminding me I know nothing of guilt. I only thought I did, but what I felt will pale in comparison to what will crush me if I lose you.”
I touch my tongue to the top of my dry mouth, then swallow hard. The tightness doesn’t ease, though. An anticipation I can’t explain tenses my body. “What are you trying to say to me?”
Uri’s perusal maps my face, but the light cuts in the cabin before I can garner anything from his expression. “You matter. To the homeless in that city we left, to those at Shifter Affairs, to the friends you’ve made, but especially to me. Do you know what I’m trying to say?”
“No.” My honest answer is the only one I can give in this moment. “I don’t.”
“Then I’ll have to show you. I don’t know the right words to express myself.”
“Show me how?” While I’d like to experience Uri’s passion again, I can’t this morning. My soul is heavy, even with the comfort Uri’s offered. I need to cry some more. And I need to forgive myself before I can give Uri what he needs.
Uri brushes his lips against mine, a barely there kiss that flutters my eyelids and lightens my heart. He slides his hand around the back of my neck, holding me gently but firmly as if ensuring I won’t run from this moment. Then he draws in a breath and steals the air from my lungs. I clutch his shirt, needing to ground myself as lightheadedness grips me. His exhale chases the weak sensation back, and strength slips through my muscles, my heart, and my soul.
Uri’s heartbeat echoes within me, just as it did the last two times he opened this connection between us—the one he claims I’m responsible for and he can’t resist.
“I’m going to show you that all the things you offer me are the same things I can offer you. I’m going to show you what peace feels like. I’ll bring heaven down for you and you alone. And I’m going to build a home for you. Right here. Your soul, my soul. They’ll be one in the same, a place for us and only us.” Uri slides his free hand down my arm to where my fingers are clutching his shirt. He clasps them and presses our joined hands to my chest. “Will you let me, Lyla? Will you let me prove your soul belongs to mine?”
“Yes.” The word is on my lips, in my heart, part of my soul. “Please.”
Uri’s tongue slips between my lips, and he coaxes me into a kiss that has me arching into him and offering myself to him even though sex is the last thing on my mind. In this moment, I’d welcome Uri inside me, though.
After several long heartbeats where the world around us ceases to exist, Uri eases back, breaking our kiss and spreading an ache in my chest as our connection shatters. He presses his forehead to mine, and his heavy breaths let me know I’m not the only one suffering the loss of us. So is Uri.
“I’m
going to be here for you, Lyla. I’m going to be your prince.”
Uri’s words are vague, but the promise wraps around me, strengthening me as completely as when we shared a soul.
I wrap my arms around Uri and clutch at his shoulders, digging my nails into him as if I might lose Uri if I don’t cling to him. In truth, I don’t know how to express my emotions. That’s okay. Words are overrated. Just as Uri can show me how he feels, I can do the same.
“Let’s get inside before we have to catch Sam on her way out the door. She’s an early gym person.”
My hair catches in Uri’s stubble as he nods. He slides his hands over my back in a firm, soothing caress. “Yes, let’s go in together.”
Together. A lump forms in my throat at what that word implies, at what this whole encounter means, at what belonging to Uri entails.
But…I already know the answers. Uri told me. Peace, heaven, and a home. Forever.
I squeeze Uri tighter for the briefest of moments before easing back to open the door. The light turns on, but it’s no longer necessary. The morning sun is creeping over the sky. I cast Uri a hopefully lighthearted smile. “Okay, you’re in charge of collecting the kitchen knives and grabbing the key to the gun case. It’s under the cushions of the couch where Colin sleeps.”
Uri grabs my arm before I climb out. “Do I have to worry about Sam attacking you?”
“Not me. Not you. Not anyone, really. The house, on the other hand?” I let the embarrassment show. “Let’s just say, this wouldn’t be the first rental she’s trashed in a fit of anger.”
Uri holds my gaze for several seconds before he nods. “Then after I hide the weapons, I’ll guard the breakable items.”
A sudden laugh shakes my chest. “That’d be a good thing.”
Uri’s answering smile spreads happiness through me. It’s odd that I’d feel so good in this moment with everything that’s happened, but I do. And I have Uri to thank for saving me from the pit where depression and regret wait to swallow a person whole.
Seventeen
Uri
Watching the screaming match between Lyla and her sister reminds me of my frequent disagreements with Ezra. Only, our fights usually end with a bloody tussle between our cats. With the weapons in the house secured and Colin nearby, I have no worries Lyla and Sam’s disagreement will progress to that level of violence, but this has gone on too long.
With the two women on either side of the couch in the living room and no breakable items within reach, I make my way to where Colin has his ass propped on the kitchen counter at the other end of the open downstairs. From here, I too have a perfect view of Sam and Lyla’s fight. Just in case.
“Don’t you think it’s time you intervene?” Before I have to and I don’t know Sam or what will pull her back from the edge.
“And have Sam turn that anger on me?” Colin snorts. “No, thanks.”
“This has gone on long enough. It’s obvious Sam needs you right now.”
“No she doesn’t.” Colin jerks his head in her direction. “Sam needs to get this out of her system.”
“Maybe you’re right. You have been with Sam a long time. You’d know her best.”
“I’m not nor have I ever been with Sam.” Colin’s voice hardens, but he doesn’t take his gaze off Sam’s back. “I rescued her, then acted as her partner until she no longer needed me.”
With my cats’ focus on the fight—listening for anything in either Lyla’s or Sam’s tones that’d indicate the fight might turn violent—I study Colin’s profile. The hard press of his mouth and the tic on his jaw suggests Colin isn’t exactly happy about the arrangement. “She ended things, then?”
“There was no thing to end. There was a mentorship that was never meant to be permanent.”
“Ah…I see.” And I also know when to drop a subject, especially one I have no experience with. Having never been in a relationship before Lyla, I’ve never had to deal with rejection. I’ll make sure the thought never crosses Lyla’s mind either.
Colin glowers at me. “What exactly are you implying? That I screwed things up and deserve this?”
No doubt my stance betrays the awkwardness of this conversation, yet Colin’s still glaring at me as if I want to fight. I clear my throat. “Did you?”
Colin works his jaw and turns his attention back to where Lyla and Sam are now arguing about whether they’ll pay for cremation or a pine box. Sam already shot down the idea of actually giving their mother a funeral.
“I was the one who pulled her out of that cage.” Colin crosses his arms. “In the days after, I got her to realize suicide wasn’t the answer. Then I was there when she healed from what happened to her. You know, picked her up when she needed it and backed away when she wanted to stand on her own. Last couple of years, she’s been good. Mentally good, you know?”
“Being around her for so long, I’d assume you know.”
Colin nods as if that’s the answer he wants to hear. “But she’s gotten angrier. Mostly at me. I piss her off just about every day now. Sometimes I get the silent treatment. Sometimes…”
“She hits you?” I give the first plausible idea that comes to mind.
“No.” Colin shakes his head on an amused sound. “No, she curses me out and tells me to leave her alone.”
“But you don’t?”
Colin shrugs. He lowers his voice as Sam and Lyla crowd around an open laptop. “I promised I wouldn’t leave her. Sure, it was when she was naked and scared of all the shifters who swarmed the house where she was being kept, but a promise is a promise.”
Considering the number of promises I’ve made and now have to juggle with the eternal one I’m about to make to Lyla, I understand Colin’s answer. Sam triggered his instincts, and his promise stemmed from that primitive reaction. It doesn’t explain his response now, though. “Ella made it sound like you ended your partnership with Sam, not the other way around.”
Colin rolls his shoulders. “Lyla brought her proposal to Ella, who then told me. Knowing Sam wouldn’t want anything to happen to her sister, I volunteered, figuring I’d officially watch out for both girls. I’ve been unofficially watching out for both kids for years anyway, but Sam found out and volunteered me to partner with Lyla full-time.”
“You do realize they’re not girls.” I focus on Colin. “They’re adult human women in the prime of their lives. Had they not gotten themselves mixed up in our world, they’d both probably be married with a brood of their own kids by now.”
Colin makes an amused sound. “They’re not that old.”
“Lyla is in her early thirties. Sam’s in her late thirties. True, that’s not old, but in a couple of decades, they’ll start thinking about retirement. A few more after that, we’ll be arranging their funerals.” If I have my way, that won’t be Lyla’s fate, but Colin needs to accept the truth. Shifters with human mates don’t have forever to figure out their emotions. They have until fate takes their other halves away, whether that’s tomorrow or fifty years from now.
“Sam’s not my true mate.” Colin’s statement is barely audible. “She’s the kid I saved.”
“She’s the mature adult you’ve been living with for the past twenty years.”
Sam turns her back on her sister and gathers her hair at the top of her head, then tips her head back. The move stretches her thin shirt over her unbound, full breasts, and the deep breaths flaring her nostrils draw attention to her nipples. With her long legs and flat stomach, she’s every man’s wet dream. Except mine. The sight of her does nothing to me.
Colin blows out a rough breath and drags his fingers through his hair. “Then it’s about time Sam finds herself a lover and gets on with her life.”
“Without you?” And when did I turn into a therapist? It’s not my place to stick my nose in Colin’s business, especially when I don’t get any sense that Sam and Colin are drawn together, except I can’t help it. Colin’s business indirectly affects my true mate, as Sam’s happiness correlate
s to Lyla’s.
“Yeah, without me.” Colin shoots me a “weren’t you listening?” look. “Sam’s not my true mate, and as you pointed out she’s not getting any younger. If she wants that brood of kids, her clock is ticking.”
Although that’s not the point I was going for by mentioning Sam’s age, the rest of Colin’s statement has caught my attention and might explain why Colin believes Sam isn’t his true mate. “So she hasn’t welcomed you into her soul during sex? Or a kiss? That’s when most true mates connect. It’s the time when inhibitions fall away. There’s no room for doubt or obligations to twist things. Only heaven.”
“Sam’s human.”
“So is Lyla.”
Colin turns his head and focuses on me as intently as I’d studied him moments ago. “Lyla’s your true mate?”
My attention strays to where Lyla has her arm looped around her taller sister and her head resting against Sam’s arm. “Lyla has always been mine, even when I did everything in my power to avoid acknowledging our connection.”
Lyla lifts her head and looks at me as if she heard me talking about her. It’s impossible. The length of the house separates us, and Colin and I are practically whispering.
“And she’s forgiven you for ignoring your bond?”
There’s interest in Colin’s voice. Or hope, maybe. Good. If Sam is Colin’s female, Lyla won’t lose her sister to death in a few decades. They’ll get a few centuries. Single shifters are reborn too, and true mates always find their way back to each other. Sam and Colin can have forever too. It’ll only be different from what Lyla and I will have.
“She will forgive me.” I break our gaze and look at Colin. “A worthy man won’t fail his female.”