Chapter 51 #2
I don’t realize I’ve cried out until Rhys seals his mouth over mine, muffling the moans and making sure I feel his own.
His lithe hips grind up, then stammer. His knot expands until it covers the entire space between my thighs, dripping slick as he comes, filling my body with cum, pushing our combined release out.
Rhys releases his chokehold to catch me, grunting as I collapse into his purr. It rumbles against my face. My neck and lungs tingle. Emotion swamps my middle, thickening my throat while the bridge of my nose stings.
“Fuck, baby,” the alpha murmurs softly, nuzzling my crown. “You’re a miracle.”
The awe in his voice should warm my bones, but instead it puts an ache behind my lungs. Emotion spills into my stomach; thick, dark sadness spreading like oil on water.
Rhys senses the shift in my scent instantly, gripping my hair and tugging until we’re face-to-face. Anxiety pulls at his features, fracturing into pure pain when he sees the stupid tears swimming in my eyes.
“Briar. Shit,” he whispers, cupping my face. “Did I hurt you?”
He rubs his free thumb over one of the fingertip bruises branded into my neck, squinting to make them out in the dark theater. Behind me, a slow song in the second act warbles to an end and the crowd applauds while the curtain drops.
I watch Rhys examine the marks he left, clear concern rolling off him in waves. And something in my soul snaps.
“You hated me!” I cry over the applause. Fat, loathsome tears practically leap down my face. “You hated me so much you could barely stand to look at me and you—you’re—”
Perfect. Wonderful. My stupid fucking dream.
I can’t say any of it, so I settle for “You only want me like this because I’m your mate. It doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
The crowd quiets. Tense silence stretches between us as the stage lights shift, illuminating the deep frown on his beautiful face. A lone violin starts up, but he waits until others join in to shake his head.
“No, baby,” he rasps, his eyes as haunted as his voice. “I didn’t hate you. I could never hate you. And that made me hate myself.”
The deep, spreading sorrow swirls to a stop, confusion ballooning in its place. My body locks up, internal muscles squeezing the hard girth still filling my pussy. I try to ignore how good he feels and demand an explanation, but my words barely register as a murmur.
“Wh-what do you mean?”
The orchestra soars into a new melody. I barely hear it, though, with Rhys’s hands smoothing over my sides and his gaze rippling. Equal parts anguish and passion brighten the aqua beams.
“All I ever wanted was a mate,” he confesses. “Someone to dedicate myself to. A counterpart for all my fucked-up…” His mouth flickers into a humorless smile. “Venom.”
I can’t help but huff, caught somewhere between a glower and a smirk. His smile grows, warming into something real while he gazes at me.
“I know it might be hard to believe, but I devoted myself to the person who was meant to be mine. My Alpha barely let me sleep around or date for fun—and we both decided a long time ago I would never allow myself to have a shred of feeling for anyone who wasn’t the one.”
Rhys’s fingers tuck a loose piece of hair behind my ear, his eyes tracking it. “But then you showed up. And the second I saw you, I was gone.” He swallows hard, roughing out his last admission. “I hated myself for being so weak. Because I couldn’t help but fall for you.”
Oh.
I blink. Shock and hope clash like cymbals inside my chest, leaving my throat so tight I can barely breathe. “Y-you—”
“Love you,” Rhys finishes, certain. He nods. “Yes.”
A wash of alpha power accompanies the words, smothering my fear like a weighted blanket. His hands find my face, brushing his thumbs over my cheekbones. “I love you so much; I’m not sure I’ve ever loved anyone before you. Not even myself.”
Somehow, that makes perfect sense to me. All of his arrogance and self-protection was… an act. To cover this deep-seated loneliness and longing.
God, I hate how much I understand that.
But it’s also sort of perfect, right?
The second act whirls to a close behind us and Rhys moves quickly, yanking my panties out of his pocket and using them to clean between my thighs as he withdraws.
By the time the crowd has quieted and the house lights glow to life, signaling an intermission, he’s tucked back into his pants and has me balanced on his knee, smoothing my hair into some semblance of order.
Dear Lord, he’s beautiful, with his jacket thrown around my shoulders and my scent all over him. Especially when he finishes fixing my crystal combs and flashes a mischievous, genuine grin.
“You want to go home? Or should we stay?”
My insides lurch, fear and yearning swirling through my stomach. I want to see the rest of the show—but I don’t want to lose whatever connection just bloomed between us.
Rhys reads my face, his softening. “You’re going to have to banish me from your side before I leave you again,” he murmurs, kissing the back of my hand. “No matter what you choose, I’m not going anywhere, baby.”
Warmth untangles the knots in my core. I curl my lips into a small curve. “The wedding in act three is the best part,” I whisper. “The costumes are beautiful.”
Rhys’s smile grows. He nods, tugging my hand until I fall back into his lap. “Then let’s go to a wedding.”