Chapter Eighteen
Audrey
I ’m not sure how long we walk for, but eventually the trees begin to thin out and my sobs begin to calm. They all but dry up when the massive Victorian house appears seemingly out of nowhere.
“Where are we?” I ask, tilting my head to look up at him as I attempt to swipe away my tears.
“This is where I live,” he says, not glancing down at me. I want to ask more questions, but I’m just now realizing how he’s practically vibrating with anger. Something that should set me on edge but doesn’t. Like with Brenden, I know Donovan would never hurt me.
Without another word, he climbs onto the beautiful wrap-around porch. He doesn’t allow me much time to admire its beauty as he goes straight to the door, kicking it shut behind us. He marches down the hallway, only allowing me a chance to glance in the doorways we pass.
Stepping out of the hallway, my jaw drops as we step into an open room with high ceilings and almost floor-to-ceiling windows on the far wall. There’s a massive fireplace on one wall and the furniture is a deep maroon leather. Unlike the Victorian house I grew up in, this area seems to be an open floor plan with the living area flowing into the dining area, and then into the huge kitchen.
All in all, it’s stunning.
“This is like my dream house,” I mumble as Donovan stalks over to the couch, setting me down beside him.
“I’m glad you like it.” His voice is gruff but his touch soft as he turns my head to look at him. “Who hurt you? I can smell the sex on you. Did someone force themselves on you?”
I blink at him, trying to comprehend his words. “What?”
“Did. Someone. Force. Themselves. On. You.” There’s an inferno of rage on the edge of his words, but it’s not directed at me. That much I know.
“No,” I hurry to assure him. “Of course not.”
“Who did you sleep with? Did they hurt you? Is that why you were sobbing?”
Raising my eyebrows, I scoff. “I’m not really sure it’s any of your business who I was sleeping with.”
“It is my fucking business who my mate is sleeping with,” he roars, jumping to his feet and pacing across the room.
I’m sorry. What?
Did he just say he was my mate?
“Ummm… would you like to repeat that? Maybe with a little less anger?” I’m on my feet before I realize it, afraid I heard him correctly but hoping I didn’t.
He spins around to face me. “What?”
“You just said something that I’m not sure I heard correctly. I’d appreciate it if you’d repeat it.” My words are short as I await his response.
Realization dawns on his face as he stalks over to me, cupping my face in his massive hands. “I said you’re my mate—my fated mate.”
“No. That’s not possible.” Shaking my head, I step out of his reach. “There’s no way you can know that.”
He chuckles. “Pretty girl, I knew you were my mate the night of your welcoming. Hellhounds aren’t like witches. All we need is to smell our mate to know who they are to us.”
Disbelief sits heavy in my stomach. Once again, I find myself wondering what the hell is up with the men at this school. First Brenden and now Donovan? At least Brenden didn’t claim to be my mate.
“I’ve been here for weeks and have barely spoken to you. Yet, you’re trying to tell me you’re my mate and you’ve known since the first moment you saw me?”
“Technically, it was from the first moment I smelled you, but yes.”
Shaking my head, I crash onto the couch. “I’m beginning to think that every single man at this school is mad in the head. There’s no way we’re mates. It’s not possible.”
“And how would you know that without performing the mate ritual, pretty girl?” He laughs when I glance up at him in surprise. “Yes, I looked up how witches learn if someone is their mate once I realized what you were to me.”
I ran away from one man who was too much for me, just to end up with another one who’s also too much. How has this become my life? I push to my feet, my legs feeling shaky, with every intention of running from Donovan just as fast as I had from Brenden.
“Sit down, pretty girl.” Donovan’s voice is practically a growl. “I’m not going to let you run away from this.”
“I don’t think you have a say in what I do or don’t do.”
He chuckles. “Do I need to remind you again that you’re my mate? Because I will.”
I scoff, throwing my hands in the air. “Even if you are my mate—which I’m not saying you are—it still doesn’t give you the right to make demands of me. I’m my own person, and I will always make decisions for myself.”
He inclines his head in agreement. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Please, will you sit back down and talk to me?”
“I have enough shit going on in my life right now. I can’t even think about having a mate—“
“Probably mates, as in plural. I’m not exceptionally talented at seeing the lines of fate, but I did attempt it, and it seems like your fate is tied to more than one person,” Donovan says matter-of-factly.
I blanch, suddenly feeling faint, and as if my legs can no longer hold me up. I crash back into my seat on the couch and squeeze my eyes shut.
“Are you okay, Audrey?” The concern in his voice is my undoing.
“No.” I shake my head, eyes popping open. “Nothing about this is okay. I died just a few weeks ago and found myself in the underworld at this academy where I’m expected to become a reaper, and this place is no joke. Then I remember the whole of my death last night. Today, I have one man practically professing his love and another telling me I’m his mate. How can I be okay?”
Donovan opens his mouth to speak, but I shake my head and continue, “Wait. I’m dead. I should’ve met my fated mates while I was alive. Those ties should’ve been cut when I died. Shouldn’t they?”
“Or maybe they only exist because you’re dead.”
I jump at the sound of the voice because it’s not Donovan’s, and I thought we were alone. My eyes ping around the room, trying to locate who spoke, but I don’t see anyone—until I do. A squeak falls from my lips as someone seems to materialize straight from the shadows.
“Do forgive me, Miss Maddox. Donovan is quite used to me traveling by shadows. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
All I can do is gape at him for a moment before turning to face Donovan and hissing, “Why is Death in your living room?”
“Please call me Wraith,” he says, running his hands down his three-piece suit that hugs his body in all the right ways before taking a seat in the chair across from us. “And technically, it’s our living room.”
“I don’t…” Rubbing my face with my hands, I sigh. “I don’t understand.”
Donovan reaches for my hand, squeezing it lightly, and for some reason, I let him continue holding it as he speaks. “While you’re my fated mate, Wraith is my chosen mate. Both of us live here, as will you and any other mates you have—assuming that’s what you want of course.”
“I’m not even going to touch that right now.” Letting Donovan keep ahold of my hand, I turn my attention to Wraith. “What did you mean they only exist because I’m dead?”
Wraith considers me for a moment. “Fate, or the Fates, really, work in mysterious ways. You might have had fated mates while you were living, but you were right. Those ties would’ve been cut the moment you died. It’s possible that dying may have set you another path with different mates—others who have also died or who you might encounter in the underworld. Another possibility is you were always meant to die, and it wasn’t until you did that you had fated mates. Or they were always your fated mates. Honestly, it’s hard to say for sure.”
Holy crap. As if my mind hadn’t been blown enough in the last twenty-four hours, now I have to ingest this too? Once again, I find myself wondering how this has become my life.
“You look like you could use a drink. Can I get you something?” Wraith stands, waiting for an answer.
Hysterical laughter is the only answer he’ll be getting. As soon as the laugh spills from my mouth, it’s like I can’t stop it. It’s just too much.
“I think your mate might be broken, pet.” Wraith shakes his head, moving over to the bar cart I hadn’t noticed until now.
“She’s not broken. She’s just overwhelmed. Right, pretty girl?” Donovan looks so eager as he glances at me, all I can do is nod.
Plus, I am feeling very overwhelmed. I’m sitting inside Death’s—I mean, Wraith’s—home, holding the hand of his lover, who claims to be my mate. That’s enough to overwhelm anyone with half a brain cell. Not to mention the other shit? Of course, I’m overwhelmed.
“Here. Drink this. It’ll help.” Wraith pushes a glass of amber liquid into my hand before returning to his seat, drinking from the identical glass in his hand.
Lifting it to my nose, I’m fairly certain it’s some kind of whiskey or scotch—neither of which I’d been a fan of while alive, but fuck it. I throw it back, wrinkling my nose at the taste. This is definitely better than any other I’d tried before, sliding down so smoothly, but I’m still not a fan.
Leaning forward, I set the empty glass on the coffee table. At least drinking it got me to stop laughing.
“I think Wraith might be right,” I start, barely believing that I’m calling Death by his name. “I think I’m broken.”
Wraith chuckles. “Something tells me you’re not. I think Donovan might be the correct one in this case.”
“If you want, I can help you with the mate ritual.” Donovan is still clinging to my hand as he stares at me like an eager puppy. “It’ll confirm I’m your mate, and probably the vampire. But I found a slightly different ritual that will confirm that, as well as tell us more about any other mates you might have.”
One thing is for sure, Donovan has a one-track mind about this mate thing.
“And what if I don’t want to know.”
Donovan’s face falls, my stomach going with it. He tries to hide his hurt, but he does a terrible job of it. “Oh, well… I guess we don’t need to do the ritual. I guess I didn’t think about that. It’s whatever you want, Audrey. You’re the boss.”
“Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s me,” Wraith says with a smirk.
“Not in this matter,” Donovan growls, glaring at his lover. “If you don’t have anything helpful to say, you can see yourself out.”
Wraith grins, his eyes finding me. “Look how protective he is of you before you’ve even formed the mating bond. It’ll be interesting to see how he acts after, don’t you think?”
I glance between the two of them, feeling like I’m in an alternative reality. “Ummm… I need to use the bathroom. Where is it?”
“First door on the left.” Wraith points down the hallway we’d entered through. “And don’t bother trying to run away. I have wards on the house. They’ll tell me if you leave.”
Blinking at him for a moment, I nod before pushing to my feet and finally pulling my hand from Donovan’s. I rush to the bathroom, practically slamming the door behind me and making sure the lock is turned.
Hands on the counter, I stare at myself in the mirror.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?