Her body relaxed against the comforting chill, and she felt the press of his wrist against her lips. She knew another moment of fear, wondering what his blood would do to her. If it would change her.
If it would make her monster that much more monstrous.
Yet, today, she’d seen the benefit to the powerful darkness inside of her. It had saved Parker’s life, and possibly her own.
There’d been so much blood. So much death.
The part of her that pretended to be human wanted her to be horrified. Sickened. Only she wasn’t. She couldn’t pretend to be. She knew without any introspection that what she’d done today, she’d do a thousand times. A million. She’d drown herself in a river of their blood if they came for her or those she loved.
And that mousy little voice with human morality that squeaked inside of her head would just have to suck it up.
She opened her mouth and let her teeth sink deep into Tirigan’s wrist.
His blood was like a river of dark, bitter cacao. Perhaps that was why the werewolves though she smelled like chocolate instead of death. It poured over her tongue and she swallowed greedily, following the visions through the tunnel and back toward the light.
Memories lived in the blood.
Tirigan’s memories.
She saw Ur when the humans first began to build. The warmth of the sunshine on her father’s skin, how he found those grunting, fumbling, beasts to be amazing creatures.
She flashed forward to the darkness when the hunger had grown to be too much. How alone her father had been at the beginning. There had been no others of his kind. None like him, but him alone. Eternity had stretched before him a dark, gaping maw of hunger and isolation.
Belle saw a beautiful woman smiling at Tirigan. Her stomach was slightly rounded, and her dark skin glowed with life. “You will never be alone again,” she’d said to him in a language that Belle didn’t understand, but she knew the words because her father knew the words.
She also felt what her father felt in that moment.
The joy.
It punched her in the face with more force than the magic had.
Her creation had been no thing of darkness, no violation of the laws of nature for glory or… It had been love. That was her mother.
Belle wasn’t aware she’d stretched out her hand to touch the apparition until Tirigan took her hand and held it.
She saw herself as she was born, but the tenor of the memory changed to blood and darkness. A fury unlike any other. It was losing Belle’s mother that had changed him. That sense of the dark forever looming almost strangled her.
There was only one, tiny light.
The memory of a woman holding a child as the last of her life left her in a river of blood.
She wanted to speak, wanted to… but the vision changed again. Her view narrowed to the size of a pinprick.
And she was holding a baby, whispering words in that language she didn’t understand, but knew to mean, “I love you.”
The last breath to ever leave Siduri of Ur, high priestess of the Asakku, left in a kiss on her newborn daughter’s cheek.
The real world crashed back into her as her body healed and the blood of the progenitor did its job.
She found herself looking up into Tirigan’s bloody eyes.
How had she ever thought them to be so horrible? There was so much emotion there, so much darkness, but there was love there, too.
But she still didn’t want to be him.
He wiped away her own bloody tears with his thumb. “I didn’t know you’d see,” he whispered. “It was so long ago.”
“I’m glad I saw.” Her voice was scratchy and hoarse, and damn, but her whole body ached. It felt as if she’d been ripped apart and the powers that be were still putting her back together. She supposed that was a very real possibility.
“If you say it makes me human, I’m going to bite you,” he snarled, but the words didn’t carry the bite she’d have heard once upon a time.
She curled against him. “No, you’re not.”
“Ah, child. It’s taken you this long to see.”
“But now I do see, no takebacks.”
His hand stroked over her hair. “It’s taken me a long time to learn how to be a father to you, sun-flower. The people at the diner, they’d sold you out to the hunters.”
She’d seen that in the vision, too. She understood him so much better now.
Belle wiped the last blood tear from her eye and offered it up to him.
“No, I won’t drink your tears.” He sounded horrified. A strange, an unfamiliar emotion coming from him.
“Please. It helped me know you so much better. It helped me see you. See me.”
With a much put upon sigh, he swiped the tear with his finger and put it to his mouth. His eyes closed and concentration marred his otherwise smooth and ageless brow.
“Your humanity is awful. So. Many. Feelings.” His nose wrinkled, but he sighed again. “So much like her,” came the strangled whisper.
“Why didn’t you Turn her?” she blurted.
“I tried. The magic she’d used to bring you into the world made her immune to the virus in our blood.”
“I’m sorry.”
He fixed her with a hard, pointed stare. The stare of endless ages and darkness. A stare she’d once found so horrible, but now took comfort in. Because she knew he did see her for who she was, not who he wanted her to be.
“Your monster is beautiful, too.”
“I’m learning that,” Belle replied. “Parker taught me that humanity and monstrosity aren’t mutually exclusive.”
“Certainly not. Humans are capable of both great and horrible deeds.”
“No, I mean… I guess I’ve equated humanity with morality. My morality can exist without denying who I am.”
She waited for him to tell her that he’d told her that long ago, but he didn’t say anything.
“Don’t hurt him,” she said after a long time.
He snorted. “I can’t really now, can I? I’ve just got you back, and you seem to adore him.”
Silence stretched between them until it was brittle.
“You love him, don’t you?”
She remembered the last time she’d told her father she loved a man and the words stuck in her throat. “He proved his worthiness, didn’t he?”
“Yes, much more so than Kumarin ever was. He pissed himself when we met. And your dog threw himself over my body with no thought for himself. Yes, he’s proved he is worthy.”
“I want to help them.”
“The wolves with their little war, you mean? I won’t stop you.”
“I want you to help me.”
“Why do I ever crawl out of my pyramid?” He sighed.
“You’re crashing in a pyramid now?”
“I’ve been in El Castillo for a while now. They’re comfortable.”
“You need to join the world.”
“And you need to connect with your history.”
“Here we go,” she said, her sigh sounding much like his.
“I’ll make you a deal. You come back to us, and I’ll meet you halfway. In this world.”
“I don’t want to join the murder. I… that life…” She was thinking of all the different ways to phrase what she wanted to say. Belle had come to realize the way she’d expressed herself in the past had been tantamount to “I don’t want you.” Not “I don’t want this life.”
“I see now that murder life is not for you. You are not built for it, but I’m tired. When it is time for new leadership, they will look to you. Will you deny them?”
“New leadership?” No, there would never be a new leadership. Tirigan was the progenitor. He was forever.
“Eternity is long and dark, and I’m ready to sleep.”
“Is that the only reason you wanted me back?” She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. “I’m sorry, I…”
“You do know better than that, don’t you?�
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She nodded. “I’m just so used to fighting you on everything. Greeting everything with suspicion.”
“Part of that is my fault. I know that.” He held her tighter. “This thing with your wolf, you know they don’t live forever. They live a long time, but not forever. Not like you. Do you understand what that means?”
It meant the blistering loss that burned through her soul earlier would come for her one way or another.
Loving anyone who was not her kind meant losing.
She nodded slowly, even as ice descended down her spine.
“I’ll put off my long sleep until then, if you want him. And when he’s gone, you’ll have the murder.”
Realization struck her hard. “That’s what you did, isn’t it? After Siduri?” My mother.
This future was what she had to look forward to. Memories of everything they shared would turn to dust and she’d be left with only the blood.
“Yes. I had the murder and you.”
It all became clear. “That’s why you wanted me to drink. You thought it would make me hard. Cold. So I’d never have to feel this.”
“Too late, isn’t it?”
She swallowed hard. After he was well, she could leave him. She could help them win the war and then she could leave. She could go back to El Castillo and pass the days of his life. She could hollow out her heart so she never had to feel that again.
Belle had always thought of herself as a coward, but she hadn’t realized the extent of her weakness until just now.
As the speeding limo carried them closer to Aphelion, the more she wanted to run.
Chapter 13
Parker had thought he knew what death felt like when he’d gotten shitfaced on Wolfsbane liquor.
It hadn’t even been close.
Well, the throbbing in his head was pretty on point. He felt hungover like he had after the Wolfsbane.
But the death part. It had been so much more.
And so much less.
When that grappling hook had pierced his chest, his whole life hadn’t flashed before his eyes. Not the things he’d already done, but the things he hadn’t.
Everything he’d ever secretly wanted bloomed in a movie reel that seemed to play both forever, and then had been over in a second, the images narrowing to a pinprick of a second, to that single moment in time when his heart had been pulled out of his chest.
There’d been no pain after that, nothing but a numbing empty cold that went on forever.
It was the empty that was the worst. Seeing that long dark and being without his brothers, his uncle, his Westwood...
His new nephew, Noah.
His mate.
Yet, he knew if given the chance, he'd go back to that cold place. Back to that loneliness if that's what it took to keep any of them safe.
Parker would not hesitate.
There was a certain peace in that for him. A rightness. No, he'd not be able to see Blake and Randi's child come into the world. Or Noah grow. Or even watch his uncle fall in love again, as he was so sure that he would. But the fact remained that their lives would continue in trade for his. They'd get those things.
He'd always said he would do what he had to for his family, but it was an easy line to talk, and now he knew it wasn't just talk.
It was the walk, and he'd taken those steps.
In his most secret self, he'd doubted his strength. His commitment. Himself. He'd never been called on to put anyone before himself. He'd always been spoiled brat, Baby Woolven.
Maybe he was still Baby Woolven.
Maybe he was still spoiled. In fact, he knew he'd like to keep it that way.
But he knew what he was made of.
And Parker Woolven no longer found it lacking.
When he'd finally accepted he wasn't dead— he was, in fact, home at Aphelion in his bed and Belle was next to him—he knew a moment of utter bliss. Wolves weren't supposed to purr, but his did.
It was a low rumble in his chest, and he forced his aching body to roll over and pull her close to him.
She fit so perfectly against him. Just that connection, that touch, soothed the throbbing in his head and tuned out so much of the pain in the rest of his body.
At the moment, it felt like the powers that be were putting him back together out of only eggshells and nails. Everything felt broken.
Except for this thing between him and Belle.
He knew that was a kind of illusion. He knew she had her own path she had to walk and that it was going to take her away from him. He could only hope it wouldn't be forever.
Parker nuzzled the back of her neck, loving that cacao scent of her.
She squirmed against his grip and struggled to roll over and face him.
Her cheeks were streaked with flaking trails of blood tears where they'd dried.
"You're a dumbass," she whispered.
Instead of being insulted, an unwitting grin split his face. (And just like with the wolfsbane liquor, it definitely felt as if it had actually split his face.) "I'm your dumbass."
"Not if you get yourself killed. Like a dumbass." She sniffed.
"I'm fine. You're fine. Daddy is fine, too, isn't he?" That would be just his fucking luck—he makes the grand gesture and it doesn't mean shit because he died anyway.
The corner of her mouth twitched. "Don't ever let him hear you call him Daddy. I've just gotten him to agree not to wear your entrails like a lei."
"You know, if you could do that thing you did in Vegas, that would be great."
She studied him for a quiet moment before reaching out and cupping his face with her hands.
They were so cool and soft. It was like resting his head back in a chilled, gentle stream. Her touch carried away all the pain of the physical world and left him drifting and content.
He sighed. "That's what I need."
"What you need is a brain transplant. What's wrong with you? You could've been killed," she hissed.
"But I wasn't."
"You could've been."
"But I wasn't," he said again with a grin.
"You're infuriating."
"I know." He cupped his hands over hers. "Just keep touching me, even though I'm sure I don't deserve it."
"Gods, Parker. I don't know what I would've done if something had happened to you because of me. I don't think I could live with it."
His eyes opened and he met her gaze squarely. "Yes, you could. And I demand that you would. You're so strong, Belle. Stronger than you know. The world still has beautiful things to show you and I demand you see them."
She sniffed. "You're awfully demanding for a wolf on his deathbed."
He closed his eyes again. "That's really the best time to be demanding, don't you think? You're more inclined to give me my way."
"I'm always inclined to give your way. I can't seem to tell you no, even when I know better."
"So you'd miss me, if I'd died?" he teased.
"We're not going to joke about this. My father could've killed you. Those hunters could've killed you."
"And, to reiterate my earlier point, they didn't."
"I'm going to kill you if you don't take this seriously."
He opened his eyes again. "Listen, you're harshing my vibe, here."
Her eyes narrowed.
He grinned again. Everything she did brought him utter joy. And for some reason, it was most especially when she was exasperated with him. "Look, I get it. I do. I'm laying here feeling like shit warmed over. You know, the kind with corn."
"I didn't need that visual."
"Hey, you said to take it seriously and—"
"Comparing your physical state to a certain type of—"
"Yes, it actually is very serious. I take that so seriously." He nodded. "In all seriousness, I do understand the gravity of the situation."
"Really? So why did you throw yourself between my father and death?"
"Because he's your father, Belle, and you still need him. You need him more than you
need me. It was a pretty simple equation."
"It continues to amaze me how easily you speak of such things."
"Not speaking of them doesn't make them any less true." He squeezed her wrist softly with affection. "Does it? Have you spoken with him?"
"I have. He told me you invited him here."
"I did, but there were caveats."
"We worked it out on the drive back. It's a tentative peace, but it is peace. He's willing to let me do things my way, but I have to do some things, too."
The look on her face gutted him. He knew what she was going to say before she spoke. But he decided to let her tell it in her own way. In her own time. "Be with me in this moment, Belle."
"I am." Her words were a whisper that sounded so broken. So sorrowful.
"I know that even though you're technically older than me, you still have a lot of growing to do. You have to follow that path to who you are."
"What are you saying?"
"That I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Ride or die, baby."
"Not if you get yourself killed."
"Get myself killed? Sounds like victim blaming."
"Totally. If you died, I'll blame you forever."
"For dying?"
"For opening my heart. For forcing it to grow and reach for the light. And then for shoving it back down in the dark. I would totally blame you."
"Ah, good to know you love me."
"I didn't say that."
"You don't have to." He pulled her down. "Come here."
"You can't possibly..."
He took quick stock of himself before making a promise he couldn't keep. "I can always, actually, but that's not what this is about."
She allowed him to pull her on top of him and she kept holding his face, nose to nose. While with anyone else, he'd have thought it silly, with her it was something else entirely.
"What's it about then?"
"You. Me. Forever."
"Parker," she began.
"For. Fucking. Ever." He nodded. "That doesn't mean you don't do what you need to do. It doesn't mean I don't do what I need to do. It just means that you are mine. I am yours. That is true whether you're here at Aphelion or with the Asakku murder."
The Mate Mistake (The Woolven Secret Book 3) Page 12