5. The Puritans Were Right
CHAPTER FIVE
THE PURITANS WERE RIGHT
DEKE
F rom the second I’d felt her, my focus had been on finding her. Keeping her. My mate. The other half of my soul that’d been promised by the powers-that-be. I’d long ago given up on meeting her.
I’d given up on everything.
I dragged my head out of my ass and thought about how I’d found her. Where I’d found her. That she had access to my phone and my truck, but she wasn’t using either.
Pieces clicked together, and the picture they showed burned like acid.
Humans did a lot of dumb shit, but voluntarily going for a nighttime hike without any gear in unmapped woods would take a special kind of stupid.
Not unless they had no other choice.
It took effort I wasn’t used to using since I normally didn’t care if people knew I was an asshole, but I forced my voice to soften. “Do you have someone to call?”
A headshake as she handed me back the phone.
I distractedly pocketed it. “Are you in danger?”
Her immediate headshake made my bunched shoulders loosen.
“Why were you in those woods?”
Her brows lowered as she gave a small shrug. She blinked up at me for a long moment before her lips curled down in a heartbreaking frown.
Like when I’d gotten out of my truck, that pull in my chest stretched, reaching out to her. I wondered if she felt it, too. If she’d been searching for me without knowing why.
The sensation was intense, and every damn part of my being knew who she was to me. I couldn’t imagine how confused she had to be.
How scared.
As badly as I wanted to unload the entire crazy-ass story to explain it to her, I had to tread carefully. She was already as skittish as the baby deer who wandered into my yard. If I made any sudden moves—or insane proclamations of mates, magicks, and the apocalypse—she’d take off right back into the woods.
That time to get away from me.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Tears filled her eyes as they darted around like she was thinking about running anyhow.
Panic shot through me in a way I hadn’t felt in centuries. Not with all the death I’d seen. The destruction.
The betrayal.
Not since I’d woken up alone with no sign of my siblings.
I’d thought I would be okay with her leaving— temporarily —but I’d been wrong. There was no damn way I could be away from her without losing my mind.
Like she shared my panic, her sharp breaths grew even faster until she nearly hyperventilated. She let out a frustrated groan and reached for her hair like earlier, but I caught her wrists.
“It’s freezing out here,” I said as she shivered. “Let’s go inside by the fire, okay?”
Assuming she’d decline, I scrambled to think of what I could offer that wouldn’t sound like I was one windowless van and a free candy sign away from being a total fucking creep.
It wasn’t needed—which was good since I had jack-shit—and she shocked the hell out of me by nodding.
I released her wrists but hovered close in case she bolted as we walked the rest of the way to the cabin. When we reached the door, I paused and rubbed my beard. “I have to, uh, warn you about Victoria. She’s possessive and loud about it. I’ll do what I can to keep her off you, but I’m sorry in advance.”
I wanted to say more, but the woman surprised me by throwing open the door herself.
No shit. She’s fucking freezing, and you’re keeping her in the cold for a little chat.
“Just watch where you leave your shoes, or she’ll steal them,” I rushed out.
The woman stiffened, her questioning gaze shooting to me, but it was too late.
Victoria knew we were there.
Her ridiculous bow bobbed on her head as she ran into the entryway, yelling her grievances that not only had I left her alone all day, but I’d been gone longer than normal. Her long body tumbled as she slid to a stop when she noticed our guest.
Here we go.
Victoria hated everyone but me—and even those feelings seemed tepid rather than warm. As expected, she launched into an attack, and I shifted to block the woman.
She got to her anyway because the woman dropped to her knees.
Sacrificing herself to Demon Dog.
The nickname was insulting…
To the demons. They were better behaved.
Rather than the loud mess of barking, growling, and chomping teeth that occurred every time Victoria was forced to be around people—like dog, like dog’s snack bitch—she let out little yips as she jumped around on her short legs.
She almost sounded… happy.
As did the genuine laughter from the woman as she ruffled Victoria’s freshly groomed white and beige fur.
If I didn’t already feel the connection to this woman, this would show she’s someone special.
I could’ve watched her play with Demon Dog for hours, but the need to feed her became too much to ignore.
And I wanted that laughter and grin aimed my way.
I’m jealous of my damn dog.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, though I knew the answer.
My question wasn’t aimed at her, but Victoria barked her affirmative anyway. Usually, she would race into the kitchen to wait by her bowl, but she went slower that time, bounding back to the woman and then forward again.
“I was talking to you,” I clarified, offering my hand to her. When she took it, I pulled her to stand but didn’t back away or release my hold.
I couldn’t.
Feed her.
“Are you hungry?” I repeated gruffly past the compulsion threatening to choke me. When she nodded, I thought about what I had to offer. “Do you like chili?”
Another nod.
“I’ll get a fire going first so you can warm up.” I started for the living room, but she tugged my hand. Stopping immediately, I looked at her.
She lifted the hem of her dress a little, showing more of her calf.
Maybe the Puritans were on to something, and some visible ankle is enough to make a man sin.
I dragged my attention from her leg to the soaked and dirty fabric she showed me. “Don’t give a shit if you sit on my furniture with muddy clothes, but I can give you something to change into if you’d be more comfortable.”
Even if that means I’ll be uncomfortable since the sight of you in my clothes will make me hard enough to split logs without my axe.
She made her eyes wide as she slowly nodded for emphasis.
I chuckled. “You want to shower?”
She did it again, somehow more dramatic that time.
“Hold on.” Going through the living room, I climbed the spiral staircase into the loft where my bedroom was and grabbed my thickest sweatpants, a tee, and a hoodie for her before returning to find her right where I’d left her. I handed her the load and pointed over her shoulder. “Bathroom is the second door on the left.”
She gave me a small smile before rushing off.
After I started fires in the living room and the bedroom, I came down to Victoria’s pissy barking. “I know, I know. You’re wasting away with only dry food.” I dumped a container of the expensive-as-shit wet food—the only one she deemed worthy—onto the dry food in her automatic feeder so she would eat both. I moved to the sink to wash my hands and could almost see the ink fading before my eyes.
Refresh these or let them disappear… Another decision to add to my list.
Normal tattoos didn’t leave a trace on my skin. I needed to use a special blend of ink to make it work, but even that eventually disappeared.
It worked in my favor. Changing tattoos helped when it was time for a new identity. I would still be disappointed when it was time to say goodbye to the tattoo of the sunrise over the tree line that covered my entire arm. It was my favorite piece in a long line of many.
Dumping the leftover chili into a pot on the stove, I scowled down at it.
Logically, I knew that my ability to cook for her wasn’t an indication of my worthiness as a mate, but that wasn’t what my culinary ego said. The chili would have to do since there was no way in hell I was making her wait. Not when she was empty .
While it warmed, I hurriedly cleared off the small table that was a catch-all for whatever shit I tossed on it then made a quick pico, shredded three different cheeses, and grabbed the sour cream from the fridge.
Be better if I had fancy bowls to put everything into, but these deli containers from Black Horse will do.
For the love of angels, I’m still fucking nervous.
“What else do we need?” I muttered. Wiping my hands on the towel hanging from my waistband, I stepped back and nearly tripped on the woman. “Shit, sorry. How long have you been there?”
The side of her mouth curved up, and she pointed at me before moving her hand to mimic talking.
In every kitchen I’d worked in—and there’d been a fuck lot of them—people always said that I talked to myself more than I spoke to everyone else combined.
I chuckled. “So I’ve been told.”
I grabbed one of the three mismatched bowls I owned, ladled chili into it, and handed it to her.
Her questioning gaze dropped from me to the bowl and back again. She pointed at me again and then to the toppings. It took me a few beats to realize she was asking what I wanted.
“That’s yours,” I said. “Fix it however you want.”
She looked at me with furrowed brows before handing the bowl back. I wondered if she didn’t trust the food, but she went up on her toes to grab a new one from the cabinet and ladled half a scoop in. It was barely enough to cover the bottom of the bowl.
“No.”
At my firm word, her face paled, and she froze.
Christ, I really am a dickhead.
I rushed on to explain before she decided to throw the chili at my face and haul ass. “You need to eat more than that. You’re starving.”
I can feel it.
She looked confused again but didn’t protest when I added more—but less than I’d originally given.
I moved out of her way and got drinks, but my eyes kept returning to her. I was tempted to drop some ice cubes down my pants because I’d been right earlier. Seeing her in my clothes triggered something primal and carnal in me. I could barely see her body in the oversized pants and the baggy hoodie that hung down to her knees, but it was somehow sexier than any overpriced lingerie.
Not that I wouldn’t want to see her in that, too.
I dragged my focus from thinking about what was under those clothes in time to notice she was carefully picking through the pico. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head and held up the spoon with small pieces of jalape?o.
“Shit, I wasn’t thinking. I can make a quick batch without the peppers, but the chili itself has a kick.” I thought about what else I had stocked.
There wasn’t much.
Like most people who worked in a restaurant, my home meals were whatever I could shovel into my mouth with minimal dishes and effort.
“I can throw together a quick vegetable soup,” I offered. “Or a frittata. Frozen pizza. I think I have a couple of Uncrustables left.”
A shadow passed her expression as I spoke, but it was gone just as fast. If it weren’t for the fact I could feel her sudden hollowness, I would think I was seeing things. Before I could ask what was wrong, she smirked up at me. I didn’t need our connection or words to know it was teasing.
And not just in the way she intended.
“What?” I asked with fake defensiveness when what I really wanted to do was kiss that smile—something that’d earn me a deserved kick to the dick, hot chili to the face, and her running. “Uncrustables are damn good.”
She gave me a laugh that wasn’t as good as the one she’d given Victoria, but it still made my chest puff out with pride like I’d accomplished some great feat.
“What can I get you instead?” I asked.
She held the eye contact as she dumped the spoonful of jalape?o chunks onto her chili.
“I take it you like spicy,” I noted as she went back to digging through the pico. “I can slice another pepper. Or there’s hot sauce in the fridge.”
She nodded.
“Which one?”
She nodded again.
“Both. Got it.” I handed her the bottle of hot sauce, then ducked outside to grab a pepper from the garden, dicing it before fixing my own food.
Once seated at the small table, I aimed my face toward my bowl but lifted my gaze to watch her eat. I could’ve openly stared since her own attention seemed aimed anywhere but at me. She took a small bite, and my body tensed.
No matter what name I went by, where I lived, or what else changed in my endless existence, food was at the center of who I was.
But no other meal had felt as important as that one.
The woman’s lids drifted closed, and a small smile tipped her lips. She took a bigger bite and made a happy murmur that hardened my cock instantly.
Thank fuck for this table.
When her hiccups started, I nudged her water glass closer, but she didn’t take it. She continued eating, her hiccups mixing with the occasional soft laugh at Victoria’s dramatics.
I waited until she was done to grab a notepad and a pen. The pad was a mix of torn pages, jotted-down notes, and random recipes. If I’d been capable of dying—and my failed attempts to do that said I wasn’t—Black Horse would have a fuckuva time making sense of what I left behind.
The woman looked at the messy scrawl.
“Ignore that, it’s work shit.” I flipped to a blank page and handed her the pen. “What’s your name?”
She wrote quickly before turning the pad so I could see it.
Aurora.
“Aurora. Pretty.” Her cheeks flushed and my still hard dick jerked, but I ignored it. “Where do you live?”
Georgia.
“You’re a long way from home,” I forced out past the sucker punch of her answer. If I hadn’t wanted her to leave when I thought she lived somewhere close, there was no way I could handle that distance. I pushed that problem away to deal with a different time. “Why’re you in Maine?”
She pulled her split bottom lip between her teeth and didn’t flinch even though it had to hurt like a bitch.
Without thinking, I reached across the table to grip her chin and dislodge her lip. “Hey, it’s fine. You don’t have to answer.”
Her lids closed, and she tilted her head like she was going to lean into my touch before pulling away suddenly. She wrote again.
I want to move here.
Thank fuck.
“Are you staying at a hotel?”
She shook her head.
“Where then?”
Nowhere, I just got here today.
“What’s your plan?”
She shrugged.
If I had any chill when it came to her—or social skills in general—I would find a way to finesse the conversation.
But I didn’t.
I didn’t even have enough to ask her to stay. Instead, I opened my mouth and ordered, “Stay with me.”
Her eyes widened until I worried she would hurt herself.
I had a vague thought that something was… off . That her guard was up, and I needed to put mine up, too. That it could be a Marissa situation again. But my main focus was on clarifying that I wasn’t holding her hostage in my secluded cabin in the woods.
Christ. All those years imagining my other half, and this is how I act. I’m doing a bang-up job turning it into a clusterfuck of stalker serial killer proportions.
“At least for the night,” I tacked on knowing damn well one night wouldn’t be enough. “You can take my room upstairs, and?—”
My words cut off when she frantically shook her head.
“I get it,” I said honestly. “I’ll drop you off at a hotel.”
And possibly sleep in my truck in the parking lot.
Strike that.
Definitely sleep in my truck in the parking lot.
I didn’t share that part. “You got bags we need to grab first?”
She wrote quickly before stabbing at the paper to get my attention that she’d had from the moment I’d sensed her.
I’ll stay if you’re sure I’m not in the way, but I won’t take your bed.
“You’re not in the way. I get up early as hell, and I don’t want to wake you up when I’m banging around with the grace of a moose on ice skates.”
I don’t sleep much anyway.
“You’d sleep less down here.” I gestured to where my devil dog sat happily near Aurora’s chair. “Victoria sleeps on the couch.”
Then she’ll disrupt your sleep.
“When I fall asleep on the couch, she takes the chair. But she likes you. You’ll wake up to her butt in your face. Or her hot breath. And I’m telling you now, that’s worse.”
She gave me a soft laugh as she wrote again.
What breed of dog is she?
“Vet says part corgi, but no clue what else is in that mix since there’s no papers. Victoria just showed up here a few months ago and claimed the house.”
It’s a pretty name.
“I have my neighbor to thank for that.”
When the Demon Dog had shown up on my porch, I’d taken her to Mabel—my retired neighbor a few miles down the road—to see if she knew the owner. After she’d jokingly suggested the name Victoria, the stubborn dog wouldn’t respond to anything else. I couldn’t hold a grudge. Mabel helped out when I was working late by letting her out, feeding her wet food before she destroyed my furniture in a rage, and taking her to grooming appointments.
Though I was pretty sure she volunteered to do the last part because she liked the visual of me with a fluffy dog in the dopiest bow she could pick out.
“You didn’t answer me about your luggage,” I pointed out.
Her eyes dropped to Victoria as she shrugged.
My brows lowered. “You didn’t bring anything?”
That hollowness returned as I watched her write.
Stolen.
“Where? Did you file a police report?”
She let out a little scoff.
Not worth it. There was nothing important.
“Okay, we’ll figure it out tomorrow.” I had my theory on why she’d been in the woods, but now that she had a way to tell me, I was impatient to know if I was right.
If she felt our connection, too.
Before I could ask, I caught her wince as she rearranged the pen in her grip.
Shit.
Bolting up from the table, I rummaged under the sink. I didn’t get injured. I couldn’t. But I had an extra first-aid kit from the restaurant tucked away in case a visitor did.
Not that I had visitors.
Finding it, I pulled it out before soaking a paper towel in warm water. I returned to the table to see Aurora tapping the pen on the paper.
I already cleaned it in the shower.
“Well, I’m cleaning it again.” Kneeling in front of her, I ignored her attempts to reach for the warm towel and used it to rub across her scraped to shit palms before going over it again with an alcohol wipe. I knew it had to sting like hell, but she didn’t flinch. Not even when I repeated the process on her split lip and scratched cheeks. “What the hell happened?”
I told you, I fell.
“This is a shit-ton of scrapes for just falling.” I reached for her chin but dropped my hand when she leaned away. “Your face is bruised.”
I fell. A lot. And smacked into more than a couple trees. It was dark.
“Are you hurt anywhere else? Your legs?”
She shook her head.
I didn’t believe her, but since I couldn’t exactly force her to drop her pants, I had no choice but to move on. “Why were you in the woods tonight, Aurora?”
She loudly yawned and wrote again.
That chili was delicious, thank you. But now I’m full and exhausted. Can I go to bed?
“Right, yeah, of course.”
Aurora stood and tried to clear the table, but I plucked the bowls from her hands before she got far. She glared up at me, but I set the dishes to the side. “I got this. Come on.”
She followed me up the spiral staircase and moved right to the sliding glass door that opened to a small balcony. The view in the early morning was good, especially when wildlife ventured from the trees into the yard. But the one in the moonlight was something else. Her hand pressed to the glass, and I wished I’d grabbed the notebook so I could hear—or read—what she thought.
Of all the places I’d lived, that cabin was the only one I’d put thought into. I’d known it was more than just temporary shelter that didn’t matter. I’d wanted it perfect… I just hadn’t known why.
Now I did.
Looking over her shoulder, Aurora caught me staring at her. Like she knew what I wanted, she breathed on the window to fog it up before using her finger to write.
Wow!
I thought the same, but not about the view outside.
Turning away from her, I grabbed my clothes for the next day as I spoke. “There’s a bathroom through that door. Remote is on the side table if you want to watch TV. Wake me if you need anything.”
I looked at her long enough to see her nod, then got the hell out of there before I did something stupid.
Like kiss her in the moonlight.