Devin

by Dana Archer

  “What are you talking about?” Lena asked Vader.

  “Ignore him, Lena.” Kade stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. He closed his eyes as if he was getting ready for a nap. “It’s obvious Vader is only upset over the fact that you’re with Devin, not him.”

  She met Devin’s eyes. Nothing showed in his expression. Not anxiety, annoyance, or anger. “Devin?”

  “Why are you looking at him for answers? It’s obvious he has no plans to tell you about how he took your choices away,” Vader said.

  She faced Vader. “Took my choices away? What are you talking about?”

  Vader motioned to her shoulder. “Your—”

  “Stop.”

  Devin’s command was calmly spoken, but it had its desired effect. Vader fisted his hands and pressed his mouth in a thin line.

  “Talk to me, Devin.” She looked imploringly at him. “What does he mean?”

  Devin unbuckled them both, then held out his hand to her. “Let’s talk in private.”

  She placed her palm in his, and he twined their fingers. Without meeting anyone’s gaze, he led her to the private bedroom.

  She yanked her hand free the moment the door shut behind them. “Start talking.”

  Several heartbeats passed before he walked past her and sat on the edge of the bed. With his elbows on his knees, he leaned forward and clasped his hands loosely in front of him. For a long moment, he stared at the plush tan carpet before raising his gaze to hers.

  “You were dying, Lena.”

  “So you told me.”

  “I did what I had to do in order to save your life. If I had the chance to do it again, I’d make the same choice.”

  “And that was?”

  “I shared my strength with you to halt your slip into death, then I gave you my blood so you could heal yourself.”

  He’d already told her that. What Vader implied about Devin taking her choices away didn’t make sense. There had to be more to the story.

  “I’m grateful for that. I wouldn’t have wanted to die.”

  “I know.” A spark of respect glinted in his eyes. “You’re a fighter.”

  She tried. In her eyes, it was either fight or let the world walk all over her. Maybe it was from a childhood of being picked on because she was the smallest kid on the playground. Maybe it was her personality. No matter the reason, she refused to be the one kicked around.

  “Living or dying isn’t the choice Vader was referring to, is it?”

  Devin shook his head.

  Her pulse kicked up. She took deep, slow breaths of evergreen- and moss-scented air to keep her anxiety at bay. “Then what choice is he talking about?”

  “Whether or not you want to hold a piece of my soul.”

  She stared at him openmouthed, unable to form words.

  “The bond I formed with you acted as a lifeline, yanking you back from the cusp of death. I was able to hold you on the precipice until you began to heal yourself.”

  She held a piece of his soul.

  Memories returned to her.

  First of him placing his palm over her heart and asking, “The answer is here. Do you feel it?”

  Then of him dragging his knuckles over the top of her breast, right over her heart and whispering, “I’m here.”

  That was where their connection stemmed from. She was tied to his soul.

  Her knees gave out. She fell but never hit the floor. Devin caught her and swept her into his arms.

  He cradled her against his chest. “I wanted to wait and tell you after we got Molly back. I didn’t want it to happen like this.”

  She heard his words but couldn’t respond. Everything that had happened since waking up in bed with him at the hotel took on new meaning. The lust, the affection, the attentiveness, the jealousy—it all made sense.

  For both of them.

  “None of it is real.”

  He sighed wearily.

  The sound cut at her heart. She shoved at him. Tried to get away. To run. As far and as fast as she could.

  He tightened his hold on her. “Calm down and listen to me.”

  “No, you played me, exactly as I’d guessed. None of this meant anything. It was all a lie.”

  She shoved him again and managed to spin her body, but she didn’t break his hold. She was held flush against him, chest to chest. “Let me go!”

  “No.”

  Lena pummeled her fists into his chest. He didn’t move. Didn’t stop her. Didn’t yell. He watched her with patience in his eyes. The sight snuffed out her anger, but not her frustration.

  She fisted his shirt. “I hate you.”

  He closed his eyes. “Hate me for hurting you, then, and forcing my hand. Don’t hate me for finding you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You are my mate, Lena.” He focused on her face. “The fact that I bit you and gave you a piece of my soul doesn’t change that. You’ve been my mate since the second you were born. We just didn’t know it until that moment in the woods.”

  “We? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I saw an out-of-control shifter who fought as if he was possessed. I did not see my mate or whatever it is you think I’m supposed to call you.”

  “Didn’t you?” Devin raised a brow. “Can you honestly tell me you didn’t feel a connection when our gazes locked?”

  She had felt something. It was the reason she’d pushed from the ground, her arm on fire and every muscle in her body screaming in protest. “It was empathy. You were lost to your rage. I wanted to help you.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her higher, and held her close with his cheek pillowed on her scarred shoulder. She automatically hooked her legs around his waist, crossing her ankles at the base of his spine.

  “Mates will instinctively help their partners any way they can. That is why you risked your life for mine.”

  “I didn’t plan to risk my life.”

  “And what did you expect would happen when you got between fighting shifters, especially when one was clearly enraged?”

  “I wasn’t thinking. I—”

  “You knew you had to help me. That was your only thought, wasn’t it?”

  She couldn’t lie. “Yes.”

  “The mate bond is powerful, Lena, and we are a pair of the lucky ones. We both recognized our connection, maybe not to the same extent, but it was there. Some pairs refuse to see it or to fight for it. They hold other values and needs higher rather than cherishing the gift given to them by the goddesses.”

  That feeling of being treasured she’d experienced multiple times in Devin’s presence returned, stronger than it ever had. “Is that what I am? A gift?”

  “The greatest of all.”

  “Devin.”

  She kissed him, the only way she knew how to respond. He sighed and gave her control of the kiss. She took it, and twined her tongue with his, deepening the dance. On and on they kissed, but desire coiled in her belly the longer they shared their passion. Her body demanded relief.

  There was only one man who could give it to her. Devin.

  The need for him didn’t erase the shock of his revelations, and it didn’t answer all of her questions. She didn’t understand what being his mate meant. She couldn’t even say with one-hundred percent accuracy it was a role she wanted to fill, but she knew she wanted to experience what only her mate could show her.

  Heaven.

  Her feelings for him bordered on obsession and with him in her arms, she felt…whole. The pain in her chest—right over her heart where the piece of his soul was twined into hers—had faded the moment he’d walked into Vader’s apartment. Denying it wouldn’t help.

  She needed Devin as much as he needed her.

  Yeah, that scared her except when his mouth stroked hers and he loved her more completely with only a kiss than any other man ever had, she wasn’t sure her fear mattered in the end. The path was too sweet to turn away from.

  “Devin, need you.” She didn�
��t care if she sounded desperate. She was. She needed his touch. “I’ll beg if I have to.”

  Growling, he pressed her against the door. The kiss turned hungry. Fangs filled his mouth, turning the twining of their tongues into a dangerous dance. She automatically adjusted the angle of her strokes as if she’d kissed him hundreds of times before while he’d sported his cat’s fangs.

  With his hips holding her in place, he eased back enough to look into her face. Lust darkened the breathtaking orbs. Hunger slackened his rough features.

  “Mine. You are mine, just as I am yours. We are dominants. You are not less than me. Ever. Even if you are on your hands and knees begging for me.” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you understand? You are my perfect complement. My equal.”

  Equal.

  One word and her heart turned over. Tears stung her eyes. She blinked the wetness away before he noticed it and jumped to the wrong conclusions.

  She nodded. She didn’t know how else to respond. She only knew that no man had ever made her feel so…special.

  One corner of his mouth lifted. Her silent answer pleased him. The knowledge filled her with satisfaction. She matched his smile.

  “My perfect little mate.” He bent close and licked her lower lip. She opened to him, eager for his kiss. Instead of making love to her mouth, he swiped his rough tongue over her upper lip. His warm breath mixed with hers as he repeated the slow trace. First to the bottom then to the top.

  She flicked her tongue out, connected with his and drew him inside.

  A deep moan accompanied the twining of his tongue to hers. She relinquished control, letting him lead, letting him worship her. Surrendering to a man had never felt so good. In Devin’s hands, she’d find heaven. Ecstasy that had no bounds.

  She ached, deep inside where only a man could reach.

  “Stop moving, woman.”

  “Can’t. I want you”

  He moved his mouth to her shoulder, right over the scar he’d left on her. With her eyes closed, the intensity of his attentions magnified. Strands of his hair brushed her skin, skipping sparks of electricity along her limbs. The heat of his breath heightened the intensity of the tingles. And his roughened tongue… each time he dragged it over her flesh, she shivered, lost to the energy humming within her.

  She trailed her fingertips along the back of his neck. “You are amazing, Devin. Do you know that? Amazing.”

  Devin’s lips left her shoulder. His gaze on her face compelled her to look at him. She opened her eyes and his green-and-brown-streaked yellow ones met hers. His patchwork hair was pushed back, giving her a perfect view of sharp cheekbones and the rough cut of his jaw.

  This beautiful man was hers. Her mate.

  “Please. I want what only you can give me. No other man.” She held his gaze for a moment, hoping he’d see the awe in her eyes his focused worship built within her. “Do you understand?”

  His lips widened slightly in a smile, then he swept her into his embrace.

  She rested her head against his shirt, the cotton separating them bothering her. She craved his skin touching hers, wanted to wrap herself around him. He crawled onto the bed, laid her in the center and sat back on bent legs. For an endless moment, he watched her with the inhuman eyes she saw every time she closed hers.

  “Soon, you’ll accept me fully.” He pulled off his shirt, then pointed toward the closed door separating them from the other men. “Beyond the walls that block our loving from others. You’ll proclaim me as your mate, and you’ll allow me to announce to the world that you’re mine.”

  She opened her mouth. No words came out. Not an agreement or a denial. She didn’t want to give either. She enjoyed the look of determination on his face. He would have her agreement, and if she didn’t give it, he’d convince her it was true.

  She wanted that. For him to prove she was his mate. To prove he was worthy of her. Only problem was that she didn’t feel worthy of him. How could she when she suspected her mind was unraveling? She let the worry go for the moment. The promise of passion displayed on Devin’s face was a sweeter thing to focus on.

  Chapter 23

  Devin held Lena until she dozed off. She hadn’t asked more questions. He was glad. He’d answered all he wanted for the moment. The difficult aspects of his choice still hung over them. If he had anything to say about it, they wouldn’t broach those until after Molly and Gwen were safely returned to Lena. She couldn’t deal with the harsh realities of their situation, not on top of everything happening around her. The little display in the main cabin proved it.

  He hadn’t expected the fearless woman who’d narrowly escaped a collision with a train to react the way she had to flying. Sure, fears came in all forms and to various degrees, but Lena was braver than any human he’d ever met. That strength was one she carried in her soul. He’d seen it when he’d touched hers.

  Whatever had caused her anxiety over being on a plane, he was grateful he’d been with her to ease it. Had he not been able to touch her, she would’ve had to suffer alone. Unacceptable. If he had anything to say about it, his mate would never experience any pain—emotional or physical—ever again.

  The mystical tether linking souls, whether they were the ones joining a shifter to their animals or a human to her mate, acted the same way. Whenever he closed his eyes and reached for his cats, he saw a coiled leash stretched between them and him. When he’d touched Lena’s soul, he’d seen the same, except the cord linking him to her wasn’t complete. It wouldn’t be until after he took a piece of her soul and allowed his cats to do the same. Until that happened, he was on the outside looking in with limited options to help her.

  Then there was the little matter of his soul’s health. It had grown dark during the time he’d been forced to endure the various tortures that were conceived by his jailers. Freedom hadn’t eased the damage. Nothing would. Verna had told him that. He believed her. Despite what Xander had said, witches were powerful. They saw the world in ways no one else could, not even the Royals who were tied to their goddesses, and Verna had confirmed what he’d always suspected. His soul was dark, and Lena owned a piece of it.

  What was it doing to her?

  Thinking about the danger he might have exposed Lena to by mating her brought all those odd sensations he’d felt back in the witch’s house to the surface. Guilt caused them, but so did concern. He wanted to help her, exactly as she’d tried to do when she’d reached for him while he’d been fighting another shifter. It was a consequence of being true mates. He knew it. Understood it. Even welcomed it. And existing without his brown-eyed angel was similar to imagining his life without the three crazy cats that shared his body.

  Unimaginable.

  Feral or not, they were his. He loved them.

  He settled next to the petite woman who’d tamed him. Her scent surrounded him, soothing the wildness. Not healing him. She acted as a bandage for his damaged soul. A balm. If he was honest, that was the way it should be. He might be immortal with a tie to the heavens, but he couldn’t change the past. Even if he could, he wasn’t sure he would. Doing so would alter his outlook on life.

  There were definite advantages to being normal, but without the experience of pain and helplessness, he’d never be able to understand what other abused shifters were going through. Had he not lived through hell, he wouldn’t have known how to reach all those kids he’d helped rehabilitate over the years. Many still corresponded with him, thanking him for what he’d done for them. Their words weren’t necessary. He’d do everything in his power to help an innocent, but he’d be the first to admit their thanks made him feel good, as if he had a reason for living beyond being Mira’s guardian.

  He propped himself on his elbow and looked over his mate’s naked body. Lightly tanned skin from the roots of her hair to her toes. Not her natural tone. Her healthy glow was sun-kissed. It made him wonder if she lay out naked to get the burnished color or used one of those tanning places.

  After seeing all the natural food
items she’d had in her fridge, he guessed it was time spent under the warm, outside rays. Some humans loved nature and couldn’t get enough of the outdoors. From the way Lena had run through those woods that first night, he suspected she was one of those individuals. A good thing. He too preferred the outdoors. The past few days with her had been the most time he’d spent under a roof in ages. His cats didn’t tolerate confinement well. It reminded them too much of those horrible years spent in a cell no bigger than an elevator.

  He closed his eyes on the memories, but they rose from the depths of his mind, wrapped around him, and dropped him in hell.

  * * *

  Blessed darkness surrounded him. For months, he’d dreaded the blackness, associating it with pain. Not anymore. He embraced it, even if his cats still hated it. The cloth wrap tied around his eyes blocked out the sneering faces of his torturers. Smelling their enjoyment of his suffering was one thing, seeing it and knowing he couldn’t stop it was another.

  Devin listened to the robed attendants chanting, ‘Repent, atone’ as they prepared him for his next round of punishments. He didn’t bother begging for mercy or leniency. Never had before, wouldn’t today either. It was bad enough they got his screams.

  A bitter laugh crawled up his throat but the sound never came out. The ball gag in his mouth muffled the crazed chuckle. Lips stretched wide, he choked on the wet leather. The taste of rawhide churned his stomach and sickened his cats. They suffered more than the man.

  At fifteen winters, he stood as tall as his jailers, yet his cats were cubs…too young to hurt, too young to hate. And they did. They seethed, their rage growing every minute of every day.

  They snarled and snapped at him, tearing him apart in their useless attempts to escape. He wouldn’t let them out. They couldn’t help him. Nothing could. He had to take the abuse. If he fought, Mira would take his place. He knew that was what the others wanted. They wanted her mated to a single shifter. They wanted to mess with her destiny.

  It was Mira that they wanted to hurt. They said she had no right to choose. No right to be happy. They would take from her what the gods refused to give, and the moment he broke, they would have her.