Chapter 11
DEVIL
I’d never been especially religious, but I liked the quiet reflection of Sunday morning mass.
I needed it more than normal the past few weeks, so I found a spot in the back of the chapel and listened to Priest tell stories from the bible, his voice filling the rafters with hope, damnation, and guidance I tried to pay attention to.
It was the hushed, reverent feeling that brought me back, more than any chapter or verse.
It settled in my chest, lighter than the heaviness I’d been carrying around.
Priest made a beeline for me when the service ended and people filtered out, but I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about what a fucked up mess I’d made of my one chance with Jessia. I didn’t want to talk about my own noble stupidity losing me my mate.
I thought I’d done the right thing by keeping the bond to myself, thought I was sparing her another complication when her life was already fraught enough.
I thought I was protecting the comfort she found in the arms of others.
But according to Lynn, I’d just been a classic dictating dick—her words.
All my ideas of protecting Jessia, and I hadn’t stopped to think what keeping the bond from her would make her feel.
You decided she needed shielding from you without a single suggestion of it from Jessia, Lynn had sighed a few days ago, shaking her head at me. You didn’t trust her to know what’s best for her. She’s a grown woman, Devil. Get your head out of your ass.
Then she gave me a pep talk when I fell into hopelessness, told me to trim my hair, shower, and wear something decent instead of the same checked shirt I wore over and over.
Earn her back, Lynn told me, as if the one thing Jessia asked for hadn’t been for me to leave her alone. I couldn’t earn her back without ignoring her wishes, and I’d done enough damage already.
Stop brooding, Lynn would have muttered at me if she were here, but I was alone in the church now, so I dropped my head into my hands and let the heavy sigh out of my chest.
I just wanted to see her again, talk to hear, hear the soft whisper of her laughter and find out if I could make her throw her head back and gift me with a real laugh.
I jumped, lifting my head when someone sat beside me, fully prepared to tell Priest to mind his own business.
My words, and my mouth, dried up when I saw Jessia sitting beside me.
God, she was beautiful. Her soft brown hair flowed in waves around the shoulders of the dark red coat she wore, her skin flushed, a few freckles scattered over the bridge of her nose.
I expected cagy irritation when I met her eyes, but there was only a steady calm.
“It hurts you, doesn’t it?” she asked, so quietly that her voice didn’t echo around the church walls. “When I’m close.”
“No,” I disagreed, too loud, too forceful. I closed my mouth, swallowed. “Never that,” I insisted, doing a poor job of keeping my voice even but this time because it turned scratchy. God, her scent, those wildflowers and wide, open fields. My throat ached.
She watched me struggle, then covered my hand with hers, squeezing tight. I had to look away, the lump swelling in my throat. Fuck, I didn’t normally cry, but I couldn’t help it. Emotion hit me from all sides and I’d been unprepared for it.
“It hurts me that I had one single chance to earn your trust, and I fucked it up,” I said with difficulty. “Not that you’re here. Never that.”
“You did fuck it up,” she agreed, sending a dagger right into the vulnerable flesh of my heart. “And you don’t ever get to decide something for me ever again. I deserve to be part of every conversation, every decision that involves me.”
I nodded, choking down the noise that built in my throat when she kept her hand on mine, warm and steady and so reassuring that it hurt.
Confusing as fuck, too. Jessia was an angel, but I’d expected to walk over hot coals to earn even a minute of her time.
I’d expected her to be mad for weeks, months, but here she was holding my hand and I didn’t know what the hell to think.
“I’d like to know what your expectations of a mate bond are,” she said while I floundered. She was so fucking graceful, so composed and together. I’d followed Lynn’s advice and shaved, given my hair a trim, but I still felt a little like the Tramp to her Lady.
“My expectations,” I echoed, and cleared my throat when my words emerged thick.
She nodded, sitting with her back straight beside me. Nowhere near relaxed or at ease, but she was here, speaking to me, and god I’d missed her.
“I hadn’t got that far,” I admitted with a raspy laugh. “I never expected you to want anything to do with me, even before you knew I’m your mate. You were happy, and I didn’t want to get in the way of that, so I didn’t let myself think about what it would be like.”
“So think about it now.”
I gave her a wide-eyed look. “Are you serious?”
She nodded, her expression utterly unreadable. “Think about it. What are your expectations of a mate?”
I scrubbed a hand over my jaw, staring ahead at the pews, the altar. What did I want in a mate?
“Honestly,” I said, “I just want what we had before. I want to spend time with you, bitching about my plants that refuse to grow, making you laugh. Those times you stayed in my room—I want more of that. I want to spend time with you and know it’s where you want to be, and not feel guilty because I’m taking you away from someone else. ”
“Devil,” she sighed.
I shrugged. “I’m not putting this on you; they’re my feelings, my shit to deal with.
But I want more, Jessia. I want all of it—the bond, a relationship, getting to see you every day, building a life with you.
” It hurt to put all this out there, but she’d asked, so I’d give her the truth.
“I want more time with you. That’s the most important thing.
I just want time. Everything else can come later, or never—whatever you need is what I need, too. ”
“Okay,” she said. “What else?”
“I want to take you out on my bike, just the two of us. Whenever you’re ready to spend time with me again.”
“I’m spending time with you now,” she pointed out.
“Fuck knows why.” I glanced at her. “Why are you giving me the time of day, angel? I thought you’d hate me forever.”
Something flashed through her hazel eyes. Anger, maybe. “I never hated you. I was angry—am angry. You never had the right to keep this bond secret from me. I reserve the right to be angry about that for a long time, and you should think about how you’re going to make it up to me.”
A smile curled my lips. “You want me to beg on my knees, angel?”
The look she gave me was both aloof and amused. “That would be a start.”
I slid onto the floor in an instant, my hands in my lap as I peered up at her, a shock going through my heartbeat when I found her watching me with something almost soft. Fond.
“You’re my mate,” she said, as if testing out the words.
I had to screw my eyes shut, emotion crushing my airways, pressing on my chest. “Say—say it again,” I pleaded.
“You’re my mate,” she repeated with more confidence. “And I don’t know what happened in your life to make you think you deserve to suffer, alone with the knowledge of our bond, but it ends now. This is our bond. It’s a gift, Devil—”
“Fil,” I rasped.
“It’s a gift, and I don’t know why you saw it as something to curse me with. I think, maybe, that says more about how you see yourself than me. Why do you have such a poor opinion of yourself?”
I dropped my eyes. “I don’t, exactly. But I—my mum spent her whole life traumatised by what her first husband did to her.
She jumps at shadows even now, has to check the house is locked three times before she goes to bed, won’t go anywhere without my dad and—” I sighed, raking a hand through my hair.
“Why would you ever make me afraid?” she asked, guessing my fears. “Fil, you’ve never hurt me, never threatened me. You were the one who got me out of that basement and I’ve trusted you ever since. Maybe even before that. Do you really think you’re like the man who hurt your mum?”
I shrugged, didn’t look up at her. “He was her mate, and an alpha—”
“What about Guardian? He’s Vienna’s mate, and he’d never dream of hurting her. And Warning—I’m pretty sure he’d rather drive a knife into his heart than make Everly cry. They’re alphas. And mates. Why are you so convinced you’re bad?”
I shook my head, a lump in my throat, the floor cold beneath my knees. “I swore I would never be like that piece of shit who abused my mum—”
“And you’re not.” Jessia sighed and slid onto the ground with me, ignoring my attempts to pass her a cushion to kneel on.
“Men like that don’t spend weeks agonising over hurting their mates.
Or months. Years, even. Men like that find ways to explain it away, to find excuses for their behaviour.
They’ll apologise at first, maybe even for a few months, bring gifts as penance, try to change and be better, but it never lasts.
The violence comes more often, then it becomes normal.
Expected. Part of every day life. And they accept that.
No, they thrive in it. They crave the power, love making people feel small and powerless and afraid. ”
Every word made my stomach tighten. I jumped when she took my face in her hands, her fingers so warm against my cheeks.
Her eyes were like steel when they met mine.
“Name one time you’ve been like that. Name one time you’ve hurt someone and revelled in it.
Name one time you’ve exploited a power imbalance and loved it. ”
Her eyebrow arched, prompting me to speak.
“You’re very hard to argue with,” I rasped, earning a fierce smile. “Fine, I’ve never been like that. And I’ll do everything in my power to make sure I never am. But—”
“Fil, please shut up.”
I did, even as I smiled. How the hell did we get here, from her avoiding me, resenting me for keeping secrets, to her holding my face, a light in her eyes that made me want to break down and cry? The bond between us was alive, thrumming with so much that I couldn’t decipher it.
“I’ve known men like your mum’s ex,” she said, her smile fading. “I was married to one. Am still technically married to him.”
“Not for long,” I muttered.
“I know how it feels to be around them. I know the danger of locking eyes with a predator like that, even if they hide it at first. I’ve known you long enough to see you at your core.
There are Knights I avoid because there’s a darkness around them, something in their eyes—rage or trauma or their own fear.
You can recognise the darkness if you’ve lived in it, and I lived in it.
But you are sunlight, Fil. No matter how angry I am, that never changed. I see you, and you’re light.”
I swallowed, doing nothing to reduce the knot in my throat. “What is it you want in a mate, Jessia?” I asked, hoarse, quiet.
“I want a partner, not a keeper,” she replied immediately, seeming to realise she was still touching me and dropping her hands.
“I want all the things you said—companionship and support and time. I want you close. You’re safety and comfort to me, and I want to know what else you could be with time. ”
“A pain in the ass, probably.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she agreed with a laugh. “I don’t think it would ever be dull, being your mate. I’d always have laughter, and happiness, and I’d always know I’m safe. After the Alpha’s Bark—” She wet her lips. “After that, being around you and knowing I’m protected is like a drug.”
I flexed my hands on my knees. “You should know I’m not a good man. I’ll kill, stalk, threaten, and torture anyone who messes with the Knights, with my family, with you. I might be light, but sometimes that light can burn.”
She smiled. God, why was she smiling when I was trying to warn her off? “Some people deserve to be burned,” she replied, and I knew right then and there that she was my perfect match. My mate in every way.