“What happened?”
“I wanted to go to him,” I whisper, ashamed. “I didn’t care or think about Nathan until you brought him up,” I say, embarrassed. “I can’t believe I was ready to deceive him like this. Willing to walk away with ease!” I panic, panting, looking at my shaking hands. “What’s wrong with me?”
Taylor hugs me to her. “Shh. It’s okay. Calm down. You’re going to get Nathan started.”
Sparks! What’s wrong? Nathan asks angrily.
“Too late,” I mutter to Taylor. Nate, I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I don’t. I. Don’t understand. I’m sorry. I stutter, sobbing, knowing I’m probably the worst mate ever. Taylor rubs my back, trying to sooth me.
Sparks. Babe, what’s wrong? he asks a lot calmer. What happened? Stop crying. Sparks. Please stop crying and answer me.
I bite my tongue.
You’re killing me here, Sparky.
Wincing, I say, Nathan.
Yes.
He came here. And I . . . wanted him. I needed to go to him. It’s hard for me to express, but easy to admit. I wanted him more than I want you.
Nathan quiets for a while, and my emotions are too overwhelming for me to focus on his. Who is with you? His voice is now distant, and where I expect him to be angry, he’s calmer than a mid-summer’s night, which means I won’t even come close to knowing the magnitude of his anger.
Nathan, I am so sorry.
It’s fine, Sparks. It’s not your fault. Don’t apologize. Who’s with you?
Taylor.
She’s comforting you?
She is.
Wait a minute.
I calm a little. He’s too understanding and accepting of my confession. Something has to be up.
Taylor’s hand falls from my back. At her side, it balls and un-balls before she frustratedly expels a grumble. “Come on, Tracey,” she says without anger, but maybe despair. “Let’s lay down.”
Lying with me on my mattress, she’s uneasy, but she mentions nothing. I assume I missed the argument between the two of them, and Nathan may have said something that brought her down. His anger against her drives her to a dark place, and I search for words that’ll make her feel better. But what will I say, ‘it’s okay, it’s not your fault,’ when it actually is? Or, ‘it’ll all be over soon, and Nathan will understand,’ but that’ll make me a liar too. I don’t know if it’ll be better, I don’t know what all will come from me transpiring a liking for Roehl or how he’s able to sway me away from Nathan. It’s scary even. And knowing I could turn on Nathan without my will or conscious diverting me is terrifying. I don’t want Roehl. I swear I don’t.
Sparks?
Yeah.
I’ll be back tomorrow night, stay with Olar ‘til I make it home. You’re going to my house after school.
Are you mad?
Yes, he answers. But not with you. Get some sleep.
I hug a pillow to my chest, fighting back the urge to run upstairs and wrap myself in the covers on my bed. I’m sorry, Nate.
Don’t be. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Sleep doesn’t come easy, and I beat myself up the rest of the night. And it’s not about Nathan, it’s because of the inability to control my own feelings; the lack of control of myself. I know I don’t want Roehl. I know deep down I’m supposed to hate him. The torment and harm he’s brought Nathan and our family is ingrained in my head. And yet, he enters my mind, and I invite him to stay. I am completely in love with Nathan; he has everything I thought I wanted. But then, his brother comes along and has the same desiring effect on me. He’s as repulsive as the sun that rests on the side of his face. And yet, here we are. Roehl had to have done something drastic to me.
I need him out. And I need him out now.
fate’s desire
Friday’s buzz is on. Everyone’s happy and bouncing around the halls of our school with the weekend glow.
Olar hasn’t mentioned it, but it’s obvious he knows about last night. His cool shield turns into one of stone, and it makes me uncomfortable. He’s not said a single word to me except ‘hi’ and he’s been extra careful to watch our surroundings.
Today isn’t at all as easy as our last two days. The lack of Scott has Glen passing out repeatedly, and she’s too weak to move around on her own.
Glen’s head smacks the desk, resulting in her having another huge knot on her forehead.
“Shit . . .” I mumble under my breath. I drag her with me to the bathroom to help clean her up.
“Oh no!” she complains, leaning closer to the mirror. Through droopy eyes, she examines herself. “Scott’s going to flip when he sees my face.”
I grab her makeup bag from her purse and do what I can to hide her bumps and bruises. “At least, it won’t be as bad, you know . . .” I hint at him being able to fix it.
“Yeah.” She closes her eyes, drifting as she stands.
Patting her cheek, I wake her. “Come on. We have to get you moving.”
The next bell rings as we meet back up with Olar. I’m trying to be strong, but with my loss of energy, no sleep, and lack of Nathan, I’m little help in keeping Glen standing. My legs give out, and I fall flat on my face in the hallway—in front of everyone. The laughs and snickers drill through my ears like a jackhammer.
“We should’ve stayed home today,” Olar says, helping me up. “I’m making a note, three days tops without your mate is as long as humans can last.”
“Not true,” I mutter. “We could hold out longer.”
Glen leans against a nearby locker and slowly slides to the floor. “Shut up, Tracey. No, we can’t.” She’s growing paler by the minute and every time she blinks, they gloss over and float around in her head.
I try to shake it off, but the quick movement makes me dizzy. “Maybe staying home wouldn’t have been a bad idea, but we’re here now. Come on, Glen. Four more hours.”
“No, Tracey.” Her hands slap the tile as she hits the floor.
Olar carries a grumble as he stares at Glen. He steps forward to help, and I wave him off. “Olar, take a break, I’ll get her. Walk it off.” My head swims when I turn from him to Glen. I steady myself against the lockers as I’m waiting for the hall to stop spinning. We have to be stronger than this. There’s no way I will let this bond not allow me to make it through the day. There’s no way I’ll be unable to function just because I haven’t seen my boyfriend in three days. No way!
I settle on the floor next to Glen. “You want to sit here?”
Glen’s sick eyes drag up to mine. I cut my gaze away from her. She’s definitely being hit harder than I am. “Tracey, what’s happening? Why does it feel like I have the flu?”
“You just miss Scott, is all. But he’ll be back tonight. It’ll be better then.” I look back to Olar still pacing the hall. He doesn’t go too far or come too close.
“I hope so. This sucks.” Her body falls over, and I grab her arm to pull her back up.
Our class has started, and we’re supposed to be in there. As I’m helping Glen up, Olar comes over. “Forget it,” I say, giving in. Nathan’s so going to pay for this when I see him later. “Let’s just go home.”
filled vacancy
Nathan’s house is quiet. I’m grateful for the silence. Bright lights and sound are worsening my headache. My legs tremble as I climb the stairs; energy draining with each step as my body craves for its fill up. I snatch a shirt from Nathan’s laundry basket and a pillow from his bed. Olar and Glen take the bed, so I plop down on the floor at the foot of it and lay my head back to calm the pain.
Racked with chills, I can’t stop shivering, but I’m too hot to cover up. I smash my face in the pillow and take in a deep breath.
Someone knocks.
“Huh?” I call, muffled.
Little Nathan walks in and flops down beside me on the floor. “Hey.”
I stuff the pillow beneath my chin and ask, “What’s up?”
“Nothing. Checking on you.” He lifts up
and looks over the bed. “Those two are knocked out.”
“It’s been a long day.”
He adjusts himself and snags the remote from my lap. “You’re freezing. You okay?”
“I’m clammy and achy, and I can’t shake this fatigue. But I’ll be okay. I can fight it.” I lay my head back against the bed and wrap Nathan’s shirt around my neck like a scarf. The faint scent of him left on it does enough to suppress the chills, but it doesn’t ease the headache.
“You want me to leave?”
“No. Stay here,” I drag out, but I try to perk up. “How are things going for you?” Little Nathan has been in a constant battle with his changing, but he tries to hide it. He’s really been trying to be strong in the midst of all the family drama, being resilient for his mom since their dad is gone, or the logic in the middle of chaos. Basically, everything Nathan used to be for them.
“Better for now.”
“Good. A little relief is better than none.”
“Yeah.” He lays his head back on the bed and flips the TV to a channel we both enjoy.
I blink, and my head swims. Becoming lightheaded, I let my eyes close and surrender to the darkness.
Within what would seem like the next minute, a warm draft blows across my face. I sigh with relief, no longer feeling like I have the flu.
“Good.”
I twist around faster than humanly possible, throwing my arms around Nathan’s neck. His arms wrap around me, and I bury my face in his neck to breathe him in, filling my nose with his musk I’ve missed. Wincing, I pull back. “I’m sorry. Last night. I don’t know what happened.”
He reels me back to him, wraps his arms around me. “Don’t worry about it. Don’t apologize for that shit. It’s not all your fault.” He adjusts to cradling me in his arms. I bend my legs, propping my feet on the bench of the gazebo, enjoying being held. “How was your day?” he asks.
“It’s getting better.”
He nods. “I’ll assume that I have something to do with that. You should thank me.”
Snorting, I tease, “I would if that wasn’t a cocky thing for you to say.” He smirks and his brows jump once. “How was your trip?”
“It wasn’t a trip. Trips are enjoyable, and I enjoyed none of it. But I’m alive. You’re alive, and no one here is hurt, which is good. My time away was hell, and I’m not looking forward to doing it again.”
“Did you miss me?”
He shakes his head, turning down the corners of his mouth. “That’s not the appropriate word to use.”
I blush. “You know what? I’ve decided I am going to kill you.”
“I doubt it,” he retorts with a single laugh.
“No, really, I am. For putting me through this. These last few days have been hell.”
“I know, Sparks. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t leave me anymore. You leave, I leave. If not, you stay,” I order. “Everyone but you get the option to stay back. I don’t like it.”
“Sparks, I—”
“Nope, not trying to hear it. I’ve said my peace.” I shift my gaze to the dimly lit fountain in the middle of the gazebo that now has carnations surrounding it. The light causes the petals to glow colors of orange, yellow, and red around the white furniture.
“You’ve gotten bossy lately.” He slides his hand across my cheek and turns my head to face him. “I said I’m sorry. Forgive me, okay?”
I stare into a clockwise mixture of emerald and chocolate, nodding. “I missed you,” I breathe, getting lost in his eyes as they swirl to another color. His soft breaths flutter across my face. My gaze drops to his slightly parted lips. Those soft lips fall onto mine, and I sink into the sky. His sky. Submerged in a cloud of love, I fly home, settling in my comfort zone.
As we sit up, with his arms loosely wrapped around my hips, my body doesn’t ignite, but my heart blisters. Roughened beats attack my aching chest, causing my breaths to catch. Seconds hold the oxygen hostage before staggering breaths expel from my lungs against Nathan’s face. I gasp, nervously panting. My hands lock around his neck, and it’s not until I let go that I realize how tightly I was squeezing him.
He breaks away from me, confusion thick in his eyes. “What is that?” he mutters to himself, an edge of agony in his voice. He rubs his hand along his neck, and my nail prints slowly disappear.
I reach for my chest, gritting my teeth against the ongoing pain. I want to claw at my chest, but it doesn’t last long. Although, as it fades, the memory of it makes it feel like it’s still happening. Through a sigh, I ask, “What just happened?”
Exhaling, he thinks before answering, “You’re mine.” He places his hand on my chest, feeling our heartbeat. “My defensive shield’s wrapped around your heart.” His hand rises to his chest. “It’s harder now. More of a solid thump instead of a beat.” Moving my hand to his chest, I compare it to the beat I remember. “That is going to take some getting used to,” he adds.
My heartbeat feels hollow. Instead of the rapid double beat, it’s a single thump with a three-millisecond count before it beats again. Thump . . . Thump . . . Thump . . . I don’t know what to make of it. “Why?”
He shrugs. “For completion of us, maybe. My coming over you. Imagine how it’ll feel when we’re made.”
“Married?”
“Yeah. It’ll happen in the future. You think you’re just going to stay my girlfriend and we keep doing this the wrong way? Nah.” His brows jump. “You’ll be my wife, and all our actions will be legit.”
I scoot up his lap, sealing the space between us. Bright orange, swirling eyes gaze into mine as his hands push over my hips. “I like the sound of that.”
“Me, too,” he murmurs, grasping the back of my neck and tugging me even closer. He kisses me slow and tender.
Maybe it was our time apart, but we balance and it feels like everything is finally perfect if only for a moment.
“Wait,” I draw back and hurry to speak before he can read it. “Who do you feed off?”
His brows draw taught, and his eyes swirl deep chocolate. Slighted, he asks, “Who the hell told you about that?”
I press my lips together, taken aback by his animosity toward my question. “That shouldn’t matter?”
He clears his throat, and his eyes swirl hazel; his discrete color that helps make him unreadable.
I slide him a guarded look, narrowing my eyes. “It’s concerning you feel you need to block yourself off from me.”
He chews on his lip, gazes darting away from me, then back. “When I fight, I will. Sometimes,” he says shamefully.
“Am—” I pause to think of his answer before I ask the question.
“No, Sparks. It’s nothing like that. I don’t want to feed off you. I’ve stolen enough from you, wouldn’t you think? You expect me to take your being too?”
“No. But I want to know if I’m good enough, or why you wouldn’t ask, or I don’t know . . . Why you might have been holding yourself back from something you…” I raise my shoulders near my ears. “I don’t know. Need.”
Shaking his head, he corrects, “Burdeneds don’t need to feed. We survive fine without it. I mean, it helps with control and keeping shit in check, but feeding is giving into your demon; the beast needs to feed. Feeding off your mate is just wrong. And it hurts them. I’d get nothing but high. I mean, I’d be full and at my best, but then I’d feel bad that I used you.”
“Taylor says she feeds off Justin, and Scott feeds off Glen.”
“So what?” he scoffs, disgusted and annoyed by the topic.
Pulling my brows together, I study him. “You feed, just not off me?”
“Sometimes. I don’t like the idea of feeding off of you, and I don’t want to. Don’t worry about that. Bonding is enough. I don’t need to nearly kill you and leave you hanging onto life by a string while I’m something six times worse than stoned and over fueled. That shit doesn’t sit well with me.” He brushes his fingers through my curls. “You’re my lady, Sparks.
You know how I felt about bonding. How I feel about it. Let’s not make this shit worse for you than it is.”
My cheeks burn. “No, I don’t want it. Just curious why you’ve never mentioned it.”
He blows out his cheeks and sighs heavily. “One day, I’ll show you what it’s like for me to feed on a human. You’ll be incredibly disgusted and think less of me as a man. But if you’re that curious . . .”
I squeeze his inner shoulder as hard as I can. “Ugh. Nate, is there anything else I’m missing out on with this? My Sephlem notebook is getting full, but I’m sure there’s so much more I need to fill it with.”
He laughs, taking my wrists in his hands. “Ah, maybe.” Waiting before he continues, he adds, “Stop listening to my sister. She’s darkening, Roehl’s seizing her mind, and I’m sure there’s some shit she’s holding back on telling us about what happened. Don’t let the shit these other couples do spark your interest. Seriously, I care about you in a way that’s different from the way other’s care for their mates, from the way a husband cherishes his wife, or the way humans desire life.” His jaw works as the colors in his eyes swirl. “So, I don’t use you to stay leveled or happy or filled. I’m here with you because without you, for me, there’s no fight—I’m nothing if you’re not with me. Maybe it’s because you hold my heart in your chest, or because every time you breathe I inhale your air, or see through your eyes. Maybe because I feel your flesh on mine and I’m forced to cherish you in a way that requires me to.” He grumbles. “I just mean, I don’t want to hurt you. You asked me not to murder us. I’m trying my damnedest not to do that, Sparks.”
I blush. “I didn’t think you heard me ask that. The way you cut me off and all.”
He nods, leaning his head back with his eyes closed. Tilting forward, I kiss his lips, saying, Thanks for caring more about me than you do yourself.
Brazen: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 2) Page 11