Chapter 23
Delaney
Thorin spins the ring on the ring finger of his right hand.
It is the ring that he has to wear to allow him to walk in the sunlight. I used to admire it from afar for years; seeing the ring on him seemed to add to his sex appeal. I know, I am a sad sack.
The ring is made from real silver, with a black square onyx in the center, and down both sides are symbols that allow him to walk in sunlight.
I also know that integrated into the tattoo of a woman on his arm are the symbols also, so if the ring comes off, or his fingers get cut off, he is still protected.
Winger had a witch cast a spell on the ink that was used, so it would be permanent on Thorin.
“For years”—his voice snaps me back into the room—“I followed Ophelia around the world. Did what she wanted and never thought twice about it. I learned many different languages and got to see different cultures. It was fucking eye-opening, believe me. I had the good life. We landed in the UK—Wales, to be exact. Fuck, that country is pretty to look at: mountains and castles, fucking beautiful.” He sighs.
“Sounds nice. Maybe I will visit one day.”
“Maybe I will take you.” His words spark hope, but so far, I cannot see it happening.
“Yeah, maybe.” I twist the sheet in my hands. “Continue.”
He tucks a finger under my chin, turning my head back to look at him. His eyes are soft, like he can hear my thoughts of doubt between us.
Him not claiming me just now hurts; my heart sinks into the bed beneath me, and disappointment hits hard knowing he still does not see me as his fully.
“I will take you. I promise.” I nod, not speaking. “We stayed in Wales for a few months; my English was better by then. One night at a local pub, I met a woman. Someone who came to mean something meaningful to me. I know that she was not my mate, obviously, but I cared for her.”
His voice holds a softness when talking about this woman, which adds a stronger ache to my chest. Rubbing my sternum, he notices it and sighs.
“I loved her.” His words are like a sledgehammer to my chest.
Moving off the bed, quicker than I usually would, I gasp, clinging to the window.
“What the fuck?” he snaps.
I wave him off. “A conversation for another time. Carry on telling me about the woman you loved.” My voice is snippy and cold.
“Fuck, babe.” I hear shuffling behind me, but I do not turn to face him.
“I met Olwen, and yes, we started up a relationship. Ophelia was off turning men and now women to please her, to do her biding for her, but she hated any of us wandering. Even though she fucked anyone she wanted, as far as she was concerned, she owned us. Olwen and I were together for close to a year, until one day, I found her dead, drained of all her blood.”
I gasp, turning to look at him. He is sitting on the edge of the bed, sheets pooling at his waist. His elbows resting on his knees, his head in his hands.
“It was my fault. Brought attention to her from that cunt who turned me.” His voice turns hard, and he looks up at me, his eyes now red.
“Why? What did you do?”
“Ophelia liked to show power, and she did that in any way that she could. If that meant killing someone close to us, then so be it. One time she murdered a mayor’s entire family because he would not give her what she wanted.”
“What a bitch.”
“Yeah. Well, she did not expect me and three other men in her coven to turn on her. My blood rage took over. The four of us came up with a plan. One lured Ophelia out of the large house we had taken over, while the rest of us barricaded the house. No way out.” He sniggers.
“Then what?” I ask quietly.
This story makes me see a part of what he went through, why he found it hard to fall for anyone else again. Clearly, this Olwen also meant more to him than he is letting on. He knew she was not his mate, yet he was happy to keep her, maybe even turn her.
That thought makes my heart hurt even more.
“We set the house on fire. Another way to kill a vampire is to burn them. Once they were screaming trying to break free, we had Ophelia on her knees, screaming at losing her coven. The fuckers who did some of the worst shit known to any supernatural.”
“Did you kill her?” I already know the answer, but I want him to say the words.
Nodding. “Fuck, yeah, I did. Decapitated her right there and then.”
Smiling at me, I see the pride in his eyes at ending the person who took his first love away.
His first love.
The words bounce around my head.
“You see, after Olwen was killed, I set it in my head that I would never commit to another woman, my mate included. From Wales, I came to the US. Built a new life for myself, traveled around, fucked my way through every state. Fed when needed. Worked and got by until I met Camo and Winger. They know everything about what happened, how badly it hurt me.”
We stare at each other as I take in his words. I have heard all about how he joined the club, how he fucked any flame who flashed him some skin.
“The day we found you, I got a feeling in my chest that my mate was near, so I planned on leaving Massachusetts for a while to escape the person, go visit another KOA club. Then we found you while on the run for the club and it was like a sledgehammer to the chest. Seeing you so badly hurt, I knew that I needed to get to you, but then I saw how you were hurt, and I knew deep in my soul I could never inflict any more trauma on you being a vampire. So I did what I did; I fucking hurt you.”
He kept hurting me for years, because of her.
Because of what I went through.
I felt heartbreak every day because he thought he was doing what was best, but all I can focus on is that he did not love me because his heart belonged to another woman. Fucking hell.
“You saw me as weak. Not good enough.”
He shakes his head, but I do not let him speak as I wrap my arms around my middle, as if it will stop my stomach from churning, and ask what I need to know.
“Were you going to turn her?” My voice is low and shaky.
He says nothing, his eyes telling me everything I need to know.
A sob bubbles up, my chest feeling tight, and I drop my hands to my sides stiffly.
He was going to turn some human he fell in love with, but he won’t turn his fated mate, or even bond with her.
I understand that he was younger then, and thought that he would be with her for all of eternity, but that would mean that once he met me, he would either run away from or kill me, or she would.
Moving across the room to my suitcase, I pull out an old band T-shirt and slip it on over my head.
“Delaney.” He says my name, but everything is muffled by my blood pumping loudly in my ears.
I would have given this man everything. And he won’t do the one thing that should be as natural as breathing with me.
“I need to go. As grateful as I am for you finally telling me your story, it feels like I can’t breathe.
Hearing you say that you shared your heart with someone else, and were more than ready to turn her, to spend the rest of your life with her, mate be dammed, fucking hurts.
” Tears break free, rolling down my cheeks.
He reaches for me, but I step to the side, and he clenches his jaw while staring at me.
“NO.” My voice stops his reach.
“Babe.” His voice is firm, but it shakes.
I have never heard this emotion from him before, and it makes my steps falter.
Wrapping my arms around my middle, my shoulders hunched over, my body is feeling heavy, drained. Not how I was expecting this night to go.
Seeing the way he looked at me when he came to the office, I thought he would claim me. Eyes so full of depth and intensity. His touches, the way he kissed me—it was as if he were telling me that finally…
Finally, he would make me his.
“I need some air.”
“I just fucking opened up to you, told you why I’m the way I am, and you run.” Now his voice is hard.
My heckles go up, and my fists clench.
“I was just told that my mate would have turned some human girl to be with her forever and yet he will not bond with his actual fucking mate. Sorry for being hurt and angry. You know what? Fuck you, Thorin.” Throwing my hands up in the air out of frustration, I grip the door handle.
Before I can pull it open, he is at my back, hand gripping mine.
“We need to talk about this.” His lips brush the shell of my ear.
My body betrays me, and a shiver slithers through me.
“No. I need some time. If you cared for me at all, you will give me some time.”
He sighs, his hand tightening on mine. Brushing my hair off my shoulder, he kisses my neck, and my eyes flutter closed.
Damn it.
His hand moves off mine, and I feel the loss of his touch, which confuses me. I am angry at him, and my heart hurts more than it ever has, yet I want him close to me.
Why?
Slowly, hesitantly, I pull open the door. Stepping out into the hall, I look over my shoulder, seeing Thorin standing there with a look I cannot read on his face. His lips are set tight, his hands tightly fisted at his sides.
He says nothing, nor do I. We just stare at each other. Like a rift is already developing.
Will he revert back to his old ways? Shaking my head, I have to believe that he would not hurt me like that again.
Stepping away from his room, moving toward the main room, I quickly dry my face with the sleeve of my T-shirt.
So many emotions circle my body and my mind. I am struggling to understand what he was feeling back then; he knew about fated mates, yet was more than willing to turn a human, knowing that his true mate was out there.
Sniffling, I walk into the main room, seeing the brothers still cleaning up after the attack. The room looks nothing like it once did, and sadness hits me all over again but for a different reason.
This place was my home for so long and now it will need to be rebuilt.
Seeing the men work along with some local men who are welcome here at the club, clearing the aftermath, the now-empty room looks bare. Bare but damaged, pretty much like my heart right now.
Moving toward the kitchen, I start pulling out what I need to make the men spaghetti and meatballs. With some garlic bread.
My love of cooking has helped me out more times than I can count. It was one of my duties when Winger allowed me to stop being a club girl: cook and clean, tend the bar, and I loved every second of it.
Keeping the brothers fed and watered, well except for Thorin obviously, made me feel a part of the club. Like family.
I get lost in the cooking, letting my thoughts of Thorin go for now. The men will be tired and hungry when they are done. The kitchen smells amazing. I close my eyes, loving the smell of melted butter and garlic and herbs that I put in the meatball mixture.
Sipping from my bottled water, my throat dry, a coldness hits my stomach and it cramps, making me wince. Fuck, when was the last time I ate?
Preparing myself a small bowl, I dig in before I serve the rest of the men. When my stomach is full, I finish my water. Leaving the kitchen, I step back into the main room, and stop in my tracks, seeing Thorin hugging one of the club girls.
She smiles at him, reaches up, and kisses his cheek before walking off, and my full tummy is ready to be emptied. As if he senses me, he looks my way.
He steps in my direction, but I shake my head in disbelief over what I just saw.
I know that two of her friends were just killed but there are plenty of single brothers to provide consolation; she did not have to go after mine.
Plus, these bitches know how to play the game, and sometimes they fucking win.
He knows better.
Looking to my left, I see Shift is the closest brother and a stupid fucked-up idea pops into my head, but I can’t seem to give a shit right now.
“Shift, can you help me bring the food out here please?” He nods.
Going up on my tiptoes, I press my lips to his cheek. “Thank you.”
His eyes flash with suspicion, but then he grins, looking behind him at Thorin, who is glaring at the both of us.
“You are fucking trouble, girly.” He winks.
I shrug, spinning on my heels, and we walk into the kitchen. I load Shift up with two large serving trays and he leaves the room. Picking up the bowls of garlic bread, I turn to find Thorin leaning against the door jamb.
“What? Are you going to help or just glare at me?” I hold the bowl close to my body, as if the garlic will deter him.
I giggle inwardly, but now this is not the time.
“You kissed my brother?” His voice is low, hard.
“On the cheek.” I roll my eyes. “Just like you let that skank kiss you on the cheek.” I know I am being childish, but my hurt is still simmering.
“She was upset over the two dead whores.”
“Okay,” is all I say, but my tone carries an indifference, and he grunts.
“You do not put your mouth on anyone other than me.” He steps closer, taking the bowl from me, setting it to the side. “This mouth”—he cups my jaw, his grip harder than he has used before, and his thumb sweeps over my bottom lip— “belongs to me.”
Scoffing, I lean in so we are almost nose to nose. “Glad to know that only my lips belong to you, Thorin, but the rest of me is free game. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to take these out to the men.”
He presses forward, but I do not back down.
“Every inch of you belongs to me. Inside and out. Do not push me on this, babe.”
“You will have all of me the day that you claim me and bond with me. Until then, it is just sex. The big alpha vampire fucking the weak human. Give me a break. If you wanted this, you would have done what needed to be done, but you did not. I am not a toy for you to play with. Claim me or let me go.”
“Delaney.” My name on his lips makes me shiver.
Looking at him, I take a breath.
“You feel safe to me, Thorin, but you are also so dangerous, too.”
I do not wait for his response; I flee the room, my heart raging against my chest, fighting to break free and run away to hide under my blanket.
I do not stay to watch the men eat; instead, I go to Thorin’s room.
Once there, I snuggle under the bedding, the softness of the blanket soothing me.
I need to shut my brain off, so I play some soothing rainforest sounds on my phone that finally soothe me to sleep.
I dream of a woman snarling at me before I feel pain against my forearm, telling me that Thorin is a killer and that he will be the death of me.