1. Mine #2
But I shook my head. “I’m not being noble.
I’m not being stupid. I am a realist. I have hurt people, Grace.
Terribly. And I’ve been hurt. You deserve someone who protects you—not danger you must protect yourself from.
If I lost control and you were harmed… well, you’ve already seen what happens when I’m angry. Imagine if—”
“I would love you,” she whispered, then clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes flying wide in fear, staring at me—waiting for me to flee.
And she had reason to. Every time before that we’d been close, when she said loving words the two sides of my heart went to war. One half of my heart was a yawning chasm that ached for her—and was thrilled.
But the piece of me that was broken, and dark, and held memories of blood and screams and destruction, pulled at me to run.
‘Do. Not. Run,’ Kham growled.
‘I won’t.’
I couldn’t. It was too late. I was too weak. I’d been fighting too long. The irony of all this was that in trying to keep her safe, I’d hurt her further. And myself as well.
The bond I’d despised, resisted, been certain I could beat, was now a wound in my chest. My soul bled.
It was too hard. I wouldn’t cut either of us again—I couldn’t.
Now that she knew… shit. If I made her believe I ran because she wasn’t enough now, I might as well plunge my knife into her chest. Which would be akin to stabbing myself.
The moment she’d been willing to deny me, was the most terrifying and painful moment of my life—and not a hand had been laid on me. Thank God I’d stopped her from severing us completely. But where did that leave us now?
Mine.
The word echoed across memory, and in the link with Kham. It hung in the air in this precious place.
Mine.
Made for me.
And even though I hadn’t moved, her hands tightened on me.
She was afraid.
I’d made her afraid.
God, I was awful.
I vowed that, no matter what came, I would never make her believe she was inadequate again. If either of us had failed to this point, it was me.
“I… I can do this, Voski,” she whispered, her eyes flickering back and forth, searching mine.
“I know I can. I can hold you when you have nightmares, too,” she said with a shaky smile.
“I want to. I can walk the shadows with you—you said that.” her hesitant smile fell from her face, but with grief, not anger.
She tore her gaze from me and looked down. With shame? What—
“I’m a murderer as well, so—”
“You are not a murderer,” I growled.
Her head tipped back up. “Then neither are you.”
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
Hope. Terror. Joy. Rage. They braided together in my chest and pulled me apart. But I didn’t move, because she was there, and I wasn’t strong enough to step away again.
I couldn’t do that to her. And, coward that I was, I couldn’t hurt myself anymore, either.
‘Not a coward. It takes courage to face the truth of one’s own failings. Keep going,’ Kham rumbled in my head. I swallowed hard.
“I’m not afraid to try scary things,” Grace whispered.
“I’d noticed.” The words came dry as a desert breeze.
She gave a little huff, a tiny smile, but then went still again. Sad. “I can do hard things,” she repeated. “But, I won’t offer myself where I’m not wanted. Voski, do you want me? Not just for duty or… or some sense of protectiveness. Do you want me? I am strange. And different and—”
“Yes,” I said, as blunt and honest as any word that had ever tripped over my tongue. “Yes. I do. And it scares the ever-loving shit out of me.” Because that was also true.
She tilted her head, that V appearing between her brows. “You see? I want you too—but now I’m afraid you’re only trying to help because you feel guilty. Or responsible—”
I shook my head. “I want you because you’re mine,” I growled.
Her eyes widened, and the first twinkle of that precious light in her eyes returned, sparkling to the surface.
But I wasn’t finished. “I’m also terrified.
I’m not exaggerating, Grace. This is a nightmare.
” At those words, she hesitated, but I leaned closer and rushed on.
“Not because of you. That’s the problem.
I don’t want to hurt you, but I don’t know how to do this. I’m not good at being safe.”
“But, you’re safe for everyone. The squad. Bren and Donavyn. In training. You always know what to do. You’re safe for—”
“—for everyone who doesn’t matter,” I growled. “Because I can help them, then walk away. But you? God, Grace, you’re under my skin. And I’m worried what will happen when I get under yours.”
Her breath rushed out in a huff. “You already are.” She stared at me, lips twitching toward a smile, but the uncertainty still shadowed her gaze. She faltered, her throat bobbing. “When you look like that—”
“I won’t run again, you have my word,” I said the words with all the weight of a vow. “I’m warning you. There’s a lot of shit in my life and as you’ve seen, I don’t deal with shit very well.”
She looked down, bit her lip, then slowly slipped her hand to the center of my chest.
I groaned and dropped my chin, closing my eyes to fight for control, because that touch—that simple, little touch—sent a roaring fire through my blood. The bond lit up. Fire on a fuse. Flame tearing through my chest, leading only God knew where—
“I always begged God for an adventure,” she whispered, giving a shaky little laugh. “Well, it appears, God gave me a mate.” Then she met my eyes again.
“A dangerous mate,” I corrected her.
She tipped her head, then lifted that hand to my cheek—the one she’d slapped—and rubbed it with her thumb. “What if I want a dangerous mate?”
“Grace, are you certain?” I croaked.
She nodded, and began to smile, but I shook my head and took her precious face in my hands. “No, listen to me. Are you certain?”
“I don’t know anything for certain,” she whispered. “Except, that I want you.”
She closed her eyes and leaned up, her full lips soft for a kiss. The leash I’d been holding so tightly, the chains that had strained around my heart for weeks, snapped.