“I’m not hungry.”
“Whether you feel hungry or not, your body needs food.” He grabbed her hand. Her fingers felt very small in his. Her bones seemed very fragile, and her were skin was too cold. “And you need to feed.”
“I do not want to feed from you.”
“I have it on good authority that in cases like this, I get to tell you, ‘Tough.’”
She knew exactly who he was talking about. “No one goes to an Enforcer for social advice.”
“Why not?” He tugged. She planted her feet. “As keepers of the law, I’d think they’d be the perfect ones to ask. Besides, he offered, I didn’t ask.”
“I just bet.” She grabbed at his fingers and pried.
He didn’t actually have to drag her into the kitchen, but he wouldn’t say she went willingly. “I’m only going to feed you. There’s no need for the drama.”
“What drama? I’m following along like a lamb to the slaughter.”
He pulled out a chair. “Seems to me, for a wolfie, you’ve got your predators mixed up with your prey.”
She stood by the chair. “I don’t feel much like a wolf these days.”
“I got that impression.” He motioned. “Sit.”
She did, slowly, as if she was worried about falling. Eyes narrowed, he looked beyond the lines of strain to the life force beneath. “Just how weak are you feeling?”
“What makes you think I’m weak?”
“What makes you think you can hide it from me?”
“What makes you think I can’t?”
“What makes you think I’ll keep playing this game?”
She blinked rapidly and opened her eyes angelically wide. “Wishful thinking?”
He couldn’t help it; he cupped her head in his palm and kissed her hard, laughter and exasperation spicing the moment. He rested his forehead against hers, taking her anxious breaths as his. “You might be a bit down and out, but you sure haven’t lost any of your sass.”
“Did you want me to?”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I never wanted you to lose a damn thing.”
Her lashes lowered, covering, but not hiding, the way her eyes darkened until her irises blended into the black of her pupils and only the D’Nally gold rimmed the outside. Her lips tightened into a full line. She blinked, fighting tears. He hated himself again for not understanding what she’d needed from him back then. For the arrogance that assumed love would be enough. For ignoring her culture and how that would affect her needs. For not putting her first in a way she understood.
“I might have been an arrogant ass a year ago, too full of myself, too confident of you to look beyond my own needs, but there hasn’t been a minute since I met you, that I didn’t love you.”
Her tongue came out and moistened the curve of her lower lip. It wasn’t a sexual gesture, but his starved body reacted as if it were. His cock stretched and engorged, his pulse picked up, his breath quickened. Being were and his mate she had to scent his interest. The tear that had been hovering in her eye dripped down her cheek. He caught it on his thumb; it pooled for a minute before giving up the fight with gravity and sliding down his finger.
“This is not supposed to make you cry.”
“It’s too late for us.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because it just doesn’t matter anymore. I’m not the same woman you knew. I can’t be who you want, see things the way I used to.” She shrugged. “It’s just too late.”
She really believed what she was saying. His defection, as she saw it, the torture she’d endured the last year, her fight for her baby, then the loss of the last, they had all taken a toll on her optimism. He knelt down so his face was level with hers. He cupped her cheeks in his palms, placing his thumbs over the scars he knew shamed her. “It’s not all about loss, princess.”
“Right now it is. My pack, my mate, my daughter…”
He stroked his thumbs over her cheekbones. “You never lost me.”
“I know that, now.” Her fingers wrapped around his wrists, a fragile connection. “It was just the illusion of who I thought you were.”
A stable, steady were. He got that. “That doesn’t have to be a bad thing. A little difference keeps a relationship interesting.”
She licked her lips. “I know when we got together, I gave you the impression I was looking for excitement, and maybe I was, but I’ve learned that I’m not really that kind of person. I’m a were to my bones. I need a mate I can depend on. One who doesn’t leave me guessing if he’s coming home.”
The words struck him like a hard rain of body blows. They emphasized more than anything else how much damage had been done to their relationship. The worst part was, he couldn’t blame her. He had let her down. It didn’t matter that it had been unintentional. The results were the same. “I won’t leave you again, baby.”
The sadness of the world was in her eyes as she looked up at him. “It doesn’t matter anymore if you do.”
“You said mating wasn’t a choice.”
“I did.”
“I’m not getting your point.”
“This is not the time for this.”
“It is if I say it is.”
“I don’t love you anymore, Jace.”
The hell she didn’t. He wanted to shove that fact down her throat, force her to face what he knew had to be in her heart, but he couldn’t. Not when she was looking at him like that. Not when she was so weak her hands trembled. He was her husband. Her mate. And no matter how much he’d fucked up in the past, from here on out he was going to be the man she thought he was. “You’re tired.”
The look she shot him let him know she knew what he was doing. “That doesn’t change the truth.” Her gaze did not flinch from his. “Beyond the mating pull, there’s no connection between us anymore.”
He paused, his thumbs centered on the sharp ledge of her cheekbones beneath those wolf eyes that saw so much. “Then I guess it’s going to be up to me to reconnect us.”
Her lower lip quivered. That vibration shivered into his palm, lodging in the nerve endings there, opening a pathway from her to him. He took full advantage of it, lowering his head, bringing his mouth to within a hairbreadth of hers. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, just sat there frozen so the only thing joining them was the expectation of his kiss. He waited to see if she would be the one to bridge the distance between them, if she could take that first step.
It didn’t happen. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t afraid to take the leap. She might think that mating wasn’t a choice, but it was for him. From the moment he’d seen her sitting on that rock surrounded by trees and wildflowers he’d known this was his woman.
Every time they’d been together, every time their energy touched, it had just reinforced that reality for him. He’d thought it was the same for her. And it had been, but her need had more levels. He hadn’t realized that then, but now that he knew what she needed, he could give it to her. No holds barred. Every way she wanted. Every way she needed.
He closed the gap between them. The firmness of his lips touched the softness of hers, absorbed that softness, reflected it back, every beat of his heart, every bit of his emotion in the incredibly tender kiss he tried to give her. Communicating with his body, reaching with his mind, looking for the connection, he found her caution instead…and didn’t care. After all these months of worry, he had her mouth back under his, her breath mingling with his, her body in his arms, her breasts pressed against his chest. His world was righting itself and that was all that mattered for both of them.
With a shudder, Miri collapsed against him. The scent of her desire perfumed the air around them. It mingled with his, lighter, feminine, perfect. An aphrodisiac unto itself. Jace trusted their need to keep her put, sliding his hands down over her shoulders to just below her shoulder blades. His fingers spanned her ribs as he pulled her down off the chair onto his lap, turning her sideways, resting her thighs across his. Her neck slid int
o the crook of his shoulder as if it’d been created for just that spot. Which he firmly believed it had. He threaded his fingers through that long glorious hair he loved to feel sliding over his skin. Her head tipped back. His doing or hers? He didn’t know, didn’t care. He was just enjoying the beauty of her face and the surety that she was his as it settled deep into his bones.
She watched him, eyes clouded with desire, darkened with indecision while those full lips parted as if anticipating his kiss. His lips ached with the same expectancy. His head tilted, lowered. Electricity sizzled between them. Miri shivered. Sparks danced over his skin, vibrant electrical impulses shimmering in readiness, as if every bit of desire he had suppressed from the last year had waited for this moment to come back to life, surging forward as the moment culminated in the most delicate of connections.
He took her gasp, demanded her compliance as his mouth opened over hers, easing his tongue between her lips, expecting to have to search for her response, but instead finding it waiting. Her hands crept up over his shoulders and her fingers laced around his neck, the nails nipping his skin in an erotic invitation to take more.
He did, demanding the response that had always been his, getting it with a sigh of relief. No matter how she wanted to deny the emotional connection, it was there behind the fear, behind the desperation. It was there. And all he had to do was reach with his mind to find it. He did, locking her to him. Her moan, as she surrendered, was as betraying as any he’d ever heard.
“Ah, princess, I’ve missed you.”
The sadness that flowed over the energy between them told him of her fear that this was just physical. He drew her closer, sharing his heat and conviction with her.
“I didn’t just miss you for this, sweet Miri, though this is good. Very good. I missed your smile and your laughter, the way you get all feisty when I tease you, the way you smile when you’re happy.” He kissed her nose. “I just missed you.”
“I didn’t miss you.” There was more belligerence than truth in that statement.
“I just bet you didn’t. You were probably too angry at me to have charitable thoughts.” Her small start was another betrayal. She’d never been raised to hide her feelings. She’d been pampered and indulged. And if he had his way, she’d have gone to her grave with only a pampered, adored knowledge of life. However, nothing had gone his way. “I know about being angry, Miri.”
The break in her breathing was as telling as the quick dart of her tongue over her lips. “Who have you been angry with?”
“My brother.”
There was a lot of desperation in her “Why?” and a loss of substance. She was about played out.
He stood, easing off the intensity, but not letting go completely of the emotional link. “After you eat, I’ll tell you.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Yes, you are.”
“How you know?”
“Your stomach’s gurgling.”
Her hands slid to his shoulders. “What does it know? It’s just a stomach.”
He smiled. “Apparently, it has the good sense to know when it needs to be fed.”
“It also knows when it’s going to throw up whatever goes into it.”
Jace frowned. “You’re feeling nauseated?”
He placed his palm over her stomach, probing within. Her outer muscles were smooth, lacking tension, but when he probed beneath, he could feel the contraction of her stomach. The protest against being denied. The need for blood. His blood. “You need to feed.”
“What difference will it make if all I swallow comes right back up?”
“Not eat…feed.”
She blinked and stubbornness replaced tiredness in the faint lines etched around her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re married to a vampire. As much as you want to deny it, your life is bonded to mine. A blood exchange is necessary.”
“I won’t bite you.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because that is my choice.”
And she hadn’t decided to choose him. Jace brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. A smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “Is that a challenge?”
A flare of panic, then she bit her lip before shaking her head. “No.”
No doubt she remembered how much he enjoyed a challenge. “I think it is.” He slid her to the side, steadying her with his arm around her shoulders before getting to his feet. “What’s more, I think I’m going to take you up on it.”
She took his hand. “Doesn’t what I want count for anything?”
He pulled her up. “What you want pretty much counts for everything.” He tapped her chin with his finger until she met his gaze. “But until you can look me in the eye, open your mind, and tell me to stay out of your life, I’m sticking around.”
It was a brutal thirty seconds while Jace waited to see if she’d send him packing. Seconds ticked by, but while Miri didn’t look away, she also didn’t say a word.
“This is your chance, princess. This is a chance to get me out of your life once and forever. All you have to do is open those pretty little lips and tell me to get lost.”
Her fists clenched. Her mouth worked, but she didn’t say a word. In some ways he wished she would. He wished she’d just light into him and tell him how angry she was, tell him what he had to do to fix it. He wished she’d let it out instead of keeping that pain buried so deep it was like a cancer, eating her from the inside out.
After a full minute had passed, he pulled her back into his arms. Her cheek pressed against his chest, the top of her head snuggling beneath his chin. Just like it always had. Again, the sense of rightness poured over him. He rested his cheek on the top of her head.
Her arms came around his waist slowly, hesitantly. There was a change in her energy. A break in her defenses punctuated by a broken sob. His name came out a faint whisper. “Jace?”
“What?”
“Stick around. Please.”
She didn’t have to beg. “You prepared to give me a chance?”
“I want to.”
“Then it’s going to take a crowbar to get me out of your life.”
HE managed to get her to eat a peanut butter sandwich. Even got her to drink some milk, though she swore she hated the stuff. He took the empty milk glass from her hand and placed it on the counter.
When he turned around, she was staring at him again. “What?”
She pushed her chair back and got up. “I’ll do the dishes.”
He took the plate from her hand halfway to the sink. “I think I can handle a milk glass, plate, and knife.”
“But you prepared it.”
“And you’re stalling.”
“I prefer to think of it as avoiding a fight.”
“Because you think you can out-stubborn me?”
“Because I know I can.”
He didn’t want to fight with her, either. “Maybe you should just distract me instead.”
She cocked her head to the side. Her hair fell over her shoulder. “And how would you suggest I do that?”
He motioned with the plate and gave her his best smile. “You could slip that shirt off your shoulder. You have very pretty shoulders.”
She snorted, a very ladylike snort that got her point across. He put the dishes in the sink, not taking his gaze from hers. “No striptease, huh?”
“You’ve seen all there is to see.”
“Doesn’t mean I’ll ever get tired of looking at it.”
“I’m were, remember. I expect my mate to desire me. This is not impressing me.”
“Well, hell. You know what that means, don’t you?”
“No, what?”
“Some of my best lines are as good as dead and buried.”
A very wan smile touched her lips. “I guess so.”
Although her smile was wan, it was strong compared to her energy. Jace left the dishes and came to her side. He took her hand and brought her within scooping distance. She didn’t
struggle when he picked her up. Just lay against him with a weary acceptance that worried him.
She patted his chest. “You did promise me a story.”
“How about I make it a bedtime story?”
Her hair spilled across his arm as she shook her head. “I want a shower first.”
“I can probably arrange that.”
“It’s a simple procedure that doesn’t require much arranging.”
He shook his head at her blindness. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to pamper you.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“Yup.” He set her down on the big bed. “What did you think I was doing?”
She leaned back. Her breasts thrust against her shirt. “I thought you were keeping tabs on me.”
Damn, she had pretty breasts. “Do I need to?”
She shrugged. “You’re pretty safe, at least until we find Faith.”
“You’ve put that much stock in me?”
Again, the shrug. “You’re all I’ve got. First mating isn’t a choice, and then there’s no other option.”
He leaned in, following her down as she fell back, catching his weight on his elbows, imprisoning her against the mattress with his body. “You don’t leave a man much confidence.”
She placed her palms against his chest. As barriers went, it wasn’t much. Especially when he took into account the way they rubbed in subtle enticement.
“I was going to take a shower.”
He settled his hips between hers. “I know.”
“What are you doing, then?”
He lowered his torso, and the softness of her breasts cushioned the last inch of his descent. “Stealing a kiss from my wife.”
“What if I don’t want to give you a kiss?”
The catch in her breath betrayed her interest. He didn’t answer until his lips were a shiver of a “Yes” from hers. “That’s why it’s called stealing.”
She grabbed his shirt, a fierce expression tightening the skin at the corners of her eyes. The tips of her canines flashed between her parted lips. “No one’s taking anything from me, ever again.”
He didn’t move, just let her aggression surge over him, tracing it back to its origin, funneling it off. “Then why don’t you give it to me instead?”
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