Chapter 11
Caedmon Moroz
Ilooked like an absolute fool, and there wasn’t shit I could do about it.
I was frozen and couldn’t move from where I was standing on the first floor of the main administrative building, locking eyes with a pair of bright blue gemstones that were offering me a penetrating, curious gaze through the pane of glass that separated us.
The bookstore. I should have had her books delivered this morning.
She shouldn’t be waiting in lines. That was ridiculous.
Inhaling sharply, I considered what to do.
I felt everything inside of me harden as Effie’s familiar scent, which had been taunting me all night and teasing me all morning, hit my nose.
Fuck. She smelled amazing. The woman didn’t even realize she was teasing me, goading me.
Rationally, I knew that. Rationally, I knew my mate didn’t realize the effect she had on me.
It was far more difficult to be rational around her than I would like to admit.
Mate.
My magic roared through me in a dangerous wave as I attempted to repress a shudder.
Goddess, I was so fucked. Of course, it didn’t help that Effie was so beautiful that it was actually painful to stare at her too long.
A pulsing pink and purple aura seemed to surround her and highlight her every movement.
Even now, her delicate features and soft lips had me mesmerized as she nervously adjusted her jacket while keeping my gaze.
Despite looking like an idiot, I liked her eyes on me, so when Dakota asked her something, drawing her gaze away, I felt an irrational surge of anger at him.
Motherfucker knew exactly what he was doing.
I should go in there. I knew I should join them.
I wanted to see the clothes she was wearing, the ones we had bought her, up close.
My eyes dipped to the jeans she was wearing, both loving that they were so authentically her, with flower patches on them and slightly distressed, but also hating them because I doubt they kept her warm.
What if they bothered her skin? I didn’t like the idea of any material that wasn’t soft touching her.
A groan caught in my throat as my thoughts began to tumble again, making me realize what a weird place I was in.
Would she smell like us soon? With her being in our dorm, I hoped so.
I wanted her covered in our scent, and when she did sleep in her room tonight, with her comforter, I was glad she would be wrapped up in my scent from last night. A small piece of me.
Or she could sleep in your room again.
I ignored the subconscious prompting because I realized she would probably never want to sleep in my room again.
I had left before she had woken up, so she had woken alone.
I was a bastard. A scared bastard, because the moment the light had started to crawl across my bedroom floor, I’d all but leapt out of bed.
I had gotten ready quickly before heading to her room and making sure to unpack everything that we’d bought, wanting at least some assurance that she would be warm today since I wouldn’t be around to make sure she dressed accordingly.
That was all I had time to do before anxiety had gotten the best of me and I had run from the dorms, having no idea what to say to her after the night we had spent in bed together.
Thank you for putting a blanket over me?
Thank you for waking me from my usual string of nightmares?
Thank you for showing me a small amount of kindness and comfort that I had never been afforded in my life?
Thank you for pulverizing my chest and making me feel as though I was suffocating on my own trauma?
Thank you for making me feel like the lost, scared kid that still resided in my subconscious?
Yeah, that was the best way to impress your fucking mate.
I suppose I could have only made it worse by telling her that she was the first person ever to be in bed with me that wasn’t there for what they were promised.
Effie was the first person I’d ever cuddled with.
But telling her that would probably make her realize what a freak I was, so I had just left because I didn’t trust myself not to say some stupid shit.
I knew she would never smile at me like she did at Julian.
Never gravitate towards me like she did with Tore.
Or look at me with a softness and trust that Dakota very much did not deserve.
No. I had a feeling that she would never look at me like that at all.
I wasn’t positive how I would describe her expression when she looked at me.
Confused? Worried? Seemed about right. Although, there was a level of protectiveness and affection I had felt coming off of her that meant more to me than she would ever realize.
Desire also, but that wasn’t nearly as important to me in some ways.
Desire was nothing new in my life, and unfortunately, it usually didn’t spell anything good.
So yeah, affection and protectiveness? A bit shocking to my system.
Not that I wasn’t ridiculously fucking attracted to her.
Not that I didn’t want her underneath me.
No, I wanted all of that and so much more, and I loved the fact that she probably smelled like me right now.
It wasn’t much, but if she even thought about us in bed together once today, that was enough for me.
I just wanted to occupy a small space in her head since she was occupying literally all of mine.
A growl nearly broke from my throat thinking about her in my bed all night, soft and vulnerable.
Trusting. I wanted to eat up every inch of that delicious body.
I wanted to feel the way she squeezed my cock in her tight heat as I pinned her against my mattress and tangled my hands in her soft hair.
I wanted to fuck her. For the first time in my life, I actively wanted to fuck someone.
Considering the sexual abuse I’d undergone, I had never in my life felt that way before. It was jarring, to say the least.
Hell, I didn’t even give a fuck that she was clearly a virgin.
I knew she was inexperienced, and I wanted to be the one to teach her everything she wanted to know.
I wanted to blow her fucking mind so that she would never forget it.
Forget me. I wanted lust and heat to tint her gaze when she looked at me, if nothing else.
It would have to be enough, because I had nothing else that would hold her to me.
It was the only thing I could give her. It was all I had been able to give anyone, ever.
There was a larger issue, though, one that she never needed to know, but would haunt me and probably bury me eventually.
The issue? I didn’t just want to fuck Effie.
I wanted to make love to her, something I had absolutely no idea how to do.
I didn’t do soft and romantic, and that was what she would want.
What she deserved. I would end up hurting her.
I would be too rough. I didn’t know how to fuck differently, and every sexual experience since my first had been very much the opposite of what someone like Effie would want.
Anxiety pulsed in my chest as I shook the images that went through my head.
Memories and nightmares. I would never hurt her like I had been hurt, but it didn’t stop my urge to touch her.
Taste her. I hated touching people or being touched, but I wanted her hands on me as I kissed every inch of her.
Maybe I could manage to make her cum enough that she got addicted to it and wanted me around purely for that.
Maybe I didn’t even need to fuck her. If I could just taste her, that would be enough for the rest of my fucking life.
I nearly groaned, feeling more conflicted than ever.
I could not get over the image of waking up and finding her curled up against the radiator on the floor. How often had I been in that exact position following one of the sessions I’d gone through as a teenager? To say it was triggering was an understatement.
I should have realized something was going on, though, when my usual poor night of sleep turned into a lulled, warm cocoon and my nightmares slipped away.
I had woken up then, finding myself wrapped in a comforter before looking down to find Effie on my floor, clearly having covered me in her blanket.
No one had ever done that before. No one had ever taken care of me to any extent.
I had been left in cold, clinical mansions as a child, and the only time that was disturbed was when my father found the time to abuse me.
Then the other times… I was in an equally clinical room.
Strapped down. Abused. Sexually. Physically.
Mentally. Emotionally. Again and again. By women and men alike.
Shaking myself, I moved my thoughts back to Effie.
Effie Harlow, who had the complete power to hurt and break me.
I didn’t think she would. But she could.
I had stared at her for hours after sitting on the floor by her, watching her every facial expression as she shifted and mumbled in her sleep, my thoughts revolving around the notion of accepting that we had a mate.
I had hoped for so long that we wouldn’t have a mate.
Had hoped for so long that I wouldn’t have to form this bond.
Now, I wanted to, and while I knew the guys were upset with me…
there was nothing I could do about the past. My father couldn’t change the bond either.
Although, I hadn’t fought him when he had moved me to the other floor to distance myself from the pack he didn’t approve of.
I could have fought harder. Like I said, I had been running.