Chapter Twelve
VANESSA
THIS IS BAD.
My heart pounds, the pesky muscle refusing to slow. I’ve been on edge all day, unable to concentrate after I heard that loud commotion from the northwest wall of the facility. I knew immediately it was Chev.
It had to have been Chev.
It’s doubtful there are many bear shifters lurking around Wrath, and it’s even more doubtful that any of them would be able to make a noise that makes my skin vibrate the way it did this morning. I practically fell to my knees when I heard him, my body burning with emotions I refuse to think too much about.
Not. Good.
I scroll through my phone, desperately searching for anything with my name. Reading about Chev is bad enough, and knowing that soon my name will be included has me breaking out in a cold sweat.
I don’t want the attention that will come with that discovery, especially from Chev’s admirers. I groan, throwing my phone on the couch when I find an article listing the women residing within the Wrath facility. My name isn’t included, but this is only the first iteration.
I need to find out who’s leaking the identities of the women inside the facility. This is confidential information, and I’m not going to let the action slide. Somebody’s going to lose their job over this article.
A knock on my front door snaps me from my thoughts. It’s about time Aziel responds to my messages. I called him this morning, but he didn’t answer. I gave him another ring when I got home a few hours ago. I understand he has a family and kingdom to care for, but this is an emergency.
My palms are sweaty, and I wipe them on my pants before opening my front door.
I freeze when I lock eyes with Chev.
He offers a timid smile before awkwardly clasping his hands behind his back. He rocks back on his heels, looking just as uncomfortable as I feel. I instinctively step toward him, the mate bond urging me forward, but I quickly stop myself.
Chev curls in on himself. Is he trying to make himself small? The posture seems unnatural.
His wide, green eyes blink down at me, his expression indecipherable. I’m not nearly as afraid as I was the first time we met, but there’s still fear. The mate bond urges my heart to settle, our pesky connection growing stronger despite the distance I’ve forced between us.
Half of me wants to slam the door in Chev’s face, and the other half wants me to launch myself into his arms.
I lower my gaze, scanning his figure in a way I’m sure is noticeable. Chev doesn’t move, the man as still as a mountain as I let my eyes wander over his frame. He’s wearing Wrath clothing, but they don’t fit him. His thighs are about to bust the seams of his pants, and his chest and shoulders pull his shirt taut.
Shifters are large, the men almost always tall and muscular, and Chev is no different.
My gaze lingers on his thigh. After spending weeks staring at images of him, I know precisely where his animal and mate markings are.
Chev clears his throat, prompting me to look back up. His eyelids have lowered, and this time, it’s me who’s frozen. I feel his warmth, and my pulse races as I realize how close we’ve gotten.
Was it me who stepped forward, or him?
He raises his arm, and I spend too much time looking at his bicep. Why is he so muscular? How much does he weigh? Bears are heavy, aren’t they? I should look that up.
Chev’s fingertips touch my cheek. I gasp, my lungs sucking in a sharp intake of breath. My entire body breaks out in goosebumps, and before I can stop and think of what I’m doing, I throw myself against his chest.
Chev’s reflexes are quick, and his hand is cupping the back of my head before I’ve even processed my movements. My mouth is on his, a kiss I think I initiated, and I hold his biceps as I press my front against his.
His body is just as hard as it looks, and his muscles flex against my fingers. I love it.
Chev releases a low noise that has my body trembling, and I slide my hands to his shoulders as he tilts my head back and claims my mouth. His kiss is forceful, full of need and desperation, but I don’t find myself nearly as afraid of it as I should be.
It’s what I want, which doesn’t seem right. It’s the bond.
It also helps that the men who abused me never kissed me. Chev’s tongue against mine isn’t something I’ve ever experienced before, nor is the hand softly caressing the back of my head. He touches me nowhere else. His other hand hovers beside my waist, like he’s afraid to press against the skin.
I rip at his shirt, hating the barrier, and Chev does the rest. His clothing rips as he hurries to free his chest for me. I feel the fabric disappear underneath my hand, and I flinch as my palm lands on his bare shoulders.
My hands move of their own accord, sliding downward. Chev is muscular, and his abs tighten as I drag my fingers through the hair that lives on his chest. It’s surprisingly soft. He makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat, and his hands finally land on my hips a second later.
His grip is so light, I barely feel it, but he finally tightens it after a second. I never imagined I’d enjoy a man’s touch, but Chev has me desperate for more. I need more of him. It’s not long before I’m panting too hard to kiss him back, but Chev hardly seems to mind.
He trails his mouth to my throat, and when he reaches the spot where my shoulder meets my neck, he licks. His tongue is surprisingly rough against my sensitive skin, which makes me imagine it on other parts of my body. It’s a dangerous thought, one I know I shouldn’t be having.
“Oh,” I gasp.
Chev begins to suck on my neck, surely bruising the skin. I’ve read that shifters like to mark up their mates, but I didn’t realize what that meant until now.
I struggle to suck enough oxygen into my lungs, and my mind goes blank as Chev runs his tongue from my collarbone to my ear. The noises seeping from his chest grow louder, continuing until they’re all I can hear.
Chev’s teeth graze against my neck, the feeling jolting. It’s like a bucket of cold water pouring over my head, and I snap back to reality and push Chev away.
He whines, the noise low and throaty as he steps back. His chest is heaving, and his lips are wet and puffy from their attack on my skin. I hate how much I like it, and I slide my gaze over his exposed chest and down lower.
Chev’s straining the fabric of his jeans, the imprint of his erection impossible not to notice. He wordlessly reaches down to cover himself, hiding the view as he takes another step back. I’m faintly aware I’m shaking.
I can’t recall the last time a man so visibly aroused didn’t force himself on me.
I should be scared. I should be terrified. If it were anybody but Chev, I would be. The bond between us refuses to let me feel the fear. It’s like a weighted blanket on my negative emotions, and the blanket has only gotten heavier from our distance.
I refuse to acknowledge Chev’s erection, or our frustrating bond, as I cross my arms over my chest and inch back toward my door. I need to be prepared to run inside and lock the door should something go wrong between us. The bond wants me to trust him, but I no longer believe in blind faith.
“I’m sorry,” Chev says. He takes another step back, until he’s about to fall off the porch. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
He’s holding back a smile. It keeps threatening to spread across his lips, and I can tell it’s taking everything he has not to let it emerge. Kissing Chev was the absolute worst thing I could’ve done. I’m sending him the wrong message, giving him hope for something that will never happen.
We will never be together.
“I came here to apologize,” he continues. “I’m sure you heard me earlier today.”
I nod.
I knew things were too good to be true in Wrath, but the confirmation was a punch to the gut. Despite how hard I try, I’ll never truly be free of Chev. He won’t leave me alone, not when he has the connections and ability to get everything he wants. I’m just another object for him to own.
Chev clears his throat. “I’m sorry for the trouble I caused today. I’ve been waiting for you to seek me out, and today’s mistakes aren’t who I am. I’m a patient man for you, but I was frightened when I felt your pain. I acted without thinking, and I want to apologize.”
He straightens up as he speaks, forgetting his purposeful small posture.
Chev is tall, and I tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. It takes every bit of courage I have to hold it, but it quickly becomes too much and I shift my gaze to his sternum. Why did I encourage him to remove his shirt? There are hundreds of pictures of him running around in nothing more than his short, leather skirt, but they do little justice to the real thing.
How many other females have seen him in such little clothing? I’m jealous, and I shake my head to stop that thought from going further. He’s not mine, and I’m not his. This bond between us is a mistake, and Chev will soon see that and move on.
Chev shifts his weight from foot to foot, and I realize he’s stopped speaking. I look back up, forcing myself to make eye contact.
“What can I do to earn your trust?” he asks.
I’m not ready for this conversation.
A panic I’m all too familiar with begins to fester inside me. It spreads until it consumes me, overwhelming my every thought. Chev cocks his head to the side, his fingers twitching as he visibly fights not to reach out for me.
This is too much.
I open my mouth, but no sound emerges. After another second of fumbling, I hurry back into my home and slam the door shut. My hands shake as I turn the locks. I’m fully aware they’re useless in keeping Chev out, but I don’t care.
I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this, and I wipe at my mouth in a desperate attempt to remove our kiss. This was a mistake. I should’ve never accepted this job.
My cheeks grow wet as my panic rises, and a pain I’m pretty sure is caused by our bond spreads from my chest into every limb of my body. It’s an uncomfortable burning sensation, and it continues to grow as I peek out the window beside the front door.
Chev hasn’t moved.
He shakes his head and arms before reaching up and touching his lips, his fingers pressing against them as a tiny smile spreads across his face. My heart thumps. I shouldn’t care if he enjoyed our kiss and smiles like a giddy schoolboy afterward.
Chev’s gaze flashes to the window, and I dart away before he sees me. He’s either going to leave or force his way in, and I’ve spent enough time as a purchased female to know I have no control over his decision. He wouldn’t be the first man to force himself into my space and body, and I steel my mind in preparation for it.
Kissing him sent the wrong message, and I shouldn’t be surprised if he takes that as an invitation. I’ve been reading about shifter males these past few weeks, specifically their mating habits, and it’s not something I’m interested in. The males always dominate their females, urging them into a submission I will never give.
At least, not willingly.
Minutes pass. Chev doesn’t force his way inside my home. Eventually, I work up the courage to peek out the window again.
Chev’s still standing on the porch, frowning as he stares at his feet. He’s not wearing shoes, which is unsurprising, and he clutches his ripped shirt to his chest in a sad attempt to cover his skin. Is he doing that for me? I know he’s comfortable showing skin. All shifters are.
When it becomes clear he isn’t leaving, I shove away my fears and unlock the door.
“Will you go on a date with me?” Chev asks the second I open it.
I shake my head, not trusting my voice at the moment. Chev visibly deflates, and I point in the direction of Aziel’s home. I can only assume that’s where he’s been staying.
“Go home,” I order. My voice cracks, but it’s the best I can do.
Chev flinches as if my words have burned him, his entire body tensing and recoiling. The part of me that recognizes him as my mate screams, but I ignore it. I’m good at ignoring my needs and desires, and this will be no different.
“I understand,” he says. Good. “I’m going to leave Wrath, and I won’t approach you again. I’ll keep myself available, though, in case you change your mind.”
I nod, already knowing I won’t be reaching out.
Chev wavers, clearly hesitating on something, before he dips his head and turns away. He continues to clutch his torn shirt to his chest, holding the fabric like a scared boy.
The sight makes the burning in my chest grow, and I fight the urge to call to him as he disappears into the woods. I’ll ask Echo to relocate me, preferably somewhere Chev can’t reach me.
That’s the only way.