Chapter 10 #3
“What I’m offering is less dangerous than your life now,” Drakkal said with surprising gentleness.
“I know you don’t need to be reminded, but where are you now?
Alone with limited funds in a shitty building in a rough sector.
No ID chip. A cub on the way. I met your landlord.
He’ll sell you out at the first opportunity—that’s how I found your apartment yesterday.
And places like this are lucrative for bounty hunters who earn their livings by bringing in illegals.
It’s only a matter of time before one of them comes for you, or before one of your neighbors decides they want a taste of terran.
“My crew isn’t like that. We trust each other, we protect each other. We’re a family. I know how that sounds—”
“Yeah, it sounds like what every gang leader says before he puts a bullet in someone’s head.”
“But it’s not like that, Shay.” He shifted his hands toward her, one metal, one flesh, and turned his palms up.
“Most of my people are former military…or were slaves who won their freedom however they had to. We all understand what it means to be betrayed, and we’re not the kind who’d do it to one another. ”
Shay stared at his hands. His left hand was sleek black metal with glowing red highlights, its segmented pieces similar in shape and proportion to his flesh and blood hand.
This wasn’t the armored limb he’d been wearing when he chased her on Orcus Street.
His right hand was the rough, strong hand of a seasoned fighter, its relatively dark, calloused skin crossed by a few pale scars.
His three fingers and thumb were thick and powerful, each tipped with a long, hooked claw that should’ve instilled fear in her.
He didn’t need weapons to kill; he was a weapon.
But his hands were inviting, nonetheless.
She clamped her fingers around her forearms to keep from placing her hands in his.
“I’ll give you a spot on my security team,” he said. “Mostly they just sit around and play Conquerors or watch sappy Volturian dramas. The pay is good, and room and board are included. I’ll even buy you lunch every now and then. And I promise you, Shay—”
She lifted her gaze and met his.
“—you and your cub will be protected. You won’t have to put yourself in any danger to earn your pay.”
“Why?” she asked, brows dropping low. Deep down, she knew he was being honest, and that she could trust him, but doubt still whispered in the back of her mind. His offer was too good to be true. There had to be some ulterior motive here, something he wasn’t saying. “Why are you doing this for me?”
He searched her face for several seconds, and her heart quickened beneath his intense stare. She couldn’t guess what he was thinking, couldn’t guess what he was going to say—and never could have anticipated the next words out of his mouth.
“Because you’re my mate, Shay.”
It took several seconds for Shay to register those words, for them to make any sense, because there was no way they could be true—and what did they really mean, anyway?
Maybe she’d just heard him wrong. Maybe her pregnancy was fucking with her hearing, because he couldn’t have just said what she thought he’d said.
“What?”
“You are my mate,” he repeated. “My every instinct is drawn toward you. It started the moment I first picked up your scent in Foltham’s, even if I didn’t know what it meant right away.”
Shay stood up abruptly, knocking her chair backward onto the floor. “The fuck you say?”
Mate? Mate? Like an animal sniffing out its selected female?
She retreated a few steps and pointed at him. “But you’re an azhera! You’re all…hairy and werewolfy and whatever, and I’m…I’m human.”
He furrowed his brow. “What does werewolfy mean?”
“It’s like…like you, kind of. Part wolf, part man, all mixed together. But that’s not what we’re talking about right now!”
“I thought I looked more like a cat,” he muttered dejectedly.
Shay narrowed her eyes on him. “Again, that’s beside the point.”
Drakkal leaned back, and the chair creaked and wobbled beneath his weight. “Doesn’t matter what I am or what you are, apart from you being my mate. I haven’t tried to hide that I want you. But I’m not asking you to accept it, terran. You will, eventually, but I won’t force it.”
Shay shifted her stance, uncertain of what to say. He was so sure that she would accept that she was…his. Like she belonged to him.
Would it be so bad to be his? To have him as a protector, as a provider?
Damn it, I can provide for myself!
Yeah, she could, but at what cost to her and her baby? Why make it harder when he was offering her…everything?
Drakkal placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself to his feet. He stepped around the table, righted the chair she’d knocked over, and picked up the jacket that’d fallen off her lap—the one she’d stolen from him. He draped the garment over the chair’s backrest.
“If I don’t accept?” she asked, unable to look away from him.
“I’m still going to look out for you and your cub.
” He took a step forward, and though it seemed such a small move for him, it devoured the distance that had served as the last buffer between them.
He lifted his right hand and reached for her face, hesitating briefly as though to give her a chance to retreat.
When she remained still, he tentatively settled his hand on her cheek.
His palm was rough and warm, but she couldn’t let herself admit how good it felt. She couldn’t let herself show how starved for affection she was by leaning into his touch.
“There were a lot of people locked away down in Foltham’s zoo,” Drakkal said in a low voice, “and I felt for every one of them. But when he showed me you, I recognized you. I had to act. I had no choice. I needed to get you out of there, needed you to be free…needed to have you. And even if you had shot me afterward, I would’ve chosen to get you out of there again and again. ”
He stroked his big thumb over her cheekbone, and the tip of its claw brushed back a few strands of her hair. “Think about my offer. Like I said, it’s not contingent on you accepting that you’re my mate.”
All Shay could do was nod.
Drakkal lingered for a moment, an oddly sad smile on his lips, before lowering his hand. She felt its loss immediately.
“Let me know what you decide,” he said as he turned, scooped up his coat, and walked to the door. He swung the coat on as he moved. “That way I know whether I can stop stalking you or not.”
“Totally creepy, azhera,” she said, one corner of her mouth quirking despite her inner turmoil.
He pressed the control button, and the door slid open. He paused there and glanced at her over his shoulder. “It’s my job to keep my partner and our operation safe. But it’s my purpose to keep you safe, kiraia. I’ll be nearby if you need anything.”
With that, he walked into the hallway. The door closed a few seconds later, but Drakkal’s presence—and his intoxicating scent—lingered in the apartment long after he’d left.
She was torn. Though her instincts told her Drakkal could be trusted, her gut hadn’t always been right in the past.
But this feels different.
It did, and that scared the crap out of her.
She’d made some bad—really bad—decisions in her life, and she couldn’t afford any more.
She had her baby to worry about. Yet nothing about Drakkal made her feel like accepting his offer would be a mistake.
This…could be her one and only chance. A chance to give her baby a good, safe life.
As for Drakkal claiming her as his mate…
That both freaked her out and intrigued her. She wasn’t disgusted by him—obviously not, considering her body’s reaction to him—but he was…different.
There’d been people in the gang she’d run with back on Earth who’d considered azheras nothing more than walking, talking animals.
Some humans had been ostracized for associating with aliens, and the treatment was sometimes worse for those who became physically involved with nonhumans.
Shay had seen people beaten, tortured, and killed, all because they’d allowed themselves to feel for something other.
But that wasn’t the case here in Arthos, and she’d be lying to herself if she claimed she didn’t feel something when Drakkal looked at her, when he touched her.
And it wouldn’t have made a damn difference to her on Earth, either. She would never have let someone else dictate how she should feel or live her life, and if she wanted an azhera as her man, then she’d damn well have him.
But did she?
Shay settled her palm over her cheek, wishing that it was Drakkal’s rough, scarred there hand instead.