Chapter 15 Never Meant To Be Mine
Never Meant To Be Mine
Dom
Watching Jasmira dance for the first time in so long ignites a primal hunger inside me.
Every movement of her body in those leggings sends a shock down my spine, my wolf aching to tear free from my skin.
My grip tightens around the wine bottle.
I want to drop everything in my hands, walk up behind her, and pull her warm, soft body against mine.
Her scent of sweet vanilla sugar has me in a chokehold. It floods my senses until I can taste it on my tongue. One step closer and I’d devour her whole. This woman is going to be the death of me.
She freezes. She knows I'm here. She doesn't know it's possible, but she feels me. Her pulse quickens. I can hear it from across the room, calling to me as I watch her.
“You know,” I growl, forcing myself to maintain distance, “you do shake your ass a lot when you dance.”
And my wolf is begging to hunt you.
“Why do you two enjoy teaming up on me?” She laughs, the flush spreading across her skin betrays her.
“Dominik!” Seren’s voice rings out from the living room. I set the bouquet and wine on the counter in time to catch her as she launches herself into my arms.
I smile, settling her on my hip. “Hello, Seren!”
“Guess what?” she asks, squeezing my cheeks with both of her sticky hands, making me laugh. This girl and her pancakes. I can’t get a word out.
“We got a new pet!”
I turn to look at Jas. “So, you finally caved, huh?”
She pulls a dish out of the oven and sets it on the counter before flicking a dismissive hand. “She needed a home, and since she kept on visiting, I say it’s a sign from the Goddess, new beginnings and all.”
Seren hops down and pulls me out of the kitchen, her small hands digging into my wrist. She tries using all her strength to drag me toward the living room.
“Can I help with anything?” I manage to ask through the lump in my throat.
She shoos me away. “No thanks, I got this. Give me a few minutes, let me get everything ready.”
“Alright,” I say to Seren, “lead the way. Where is this furball?”
The ketahnsi comes out of the blanket fort, a bouncy trot in her step as if she were summoned.
She lets out a gekkering sound that is more like a challenge than a playmate.
She weaves between my legs; tiny paws planted onto my socks.
Her coloring is quite beautiful. “She’s cute, but she'd better know her place.”
Seren giggles. “We named her Mellie. Mom said it means honey and honey is sweet, like our keta.”
“It’s a very pretty name. Ready to practice?”
She helps me shove the coffee table aside, clearing space beside her fort. We should have time for her poem and the bumblebee dance before dinner.
I glance up, and there’s Jas, watching me. I drop my gaze first, stuffing a few toys and plush animals into the fort, willing my trembling hands to calm.
The dream flares to life in my memory. Her hair illuminated by the moonlight, her dress embracing every curve as she crawled backwards on the forest floor. The bond between us pulses like a second heartbeat—two souls intertwined.
Does she feel it? The sensation wrapped around our hearts. Does she feel how desperately I want to cross the floor, wrap her in my arms, and hold on forever?
Fuck.
I can’t say anything yet. Not until I have a better understanding of what is going on and somehow find the right words to explain everything.
I redirect my focus to Seren. “Alright, remember your lines?”
She stands in front of the fireplace, her fingers twisting nervously together, attention dropping to her mismatched socks like they’re suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.
“What if I mess up?”
“If you do, it’s okay,” I assure her, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “We all mess up sometimes. We all get scared. I’ll be there with you every step of the way.”
“You promise?” Her teary eyes search mine.
“Cross my heart,” I whisper, tapping the tip of her nose. “Let’s hear it.”
She inhales deeply and begins to recite.
“The little bee peeks out of the hive. The color of spring is too bright and alive. But courage flutters into her wings. Guiding her to all the new, wonderful things.”
She claps her hands. She’s very proud of herself, and she should be. She dances, arms outstretched, spinning in circles, most likely imagining the glittery wings she’ll soon wear. I jump to my feet and join her, twirling until she collapses in laughter.
A deliberate cough interrupts our fun, and I look up to see Jasmira leaning against the wall, eyebrow arched. “Now who’s shaking his butt?”
“You’re the one staring.”
Her cheeks warm despite the crooked smile she gives me. “Time to eat.”
I remember when we first sat at this kitchen table, sharing meals in silence after Aaryn passed.
We tried to create a routine of having time together.
I’m not sure if it was a way to honor him or simply to give Seren something solid and normal to hold onto.
But after a while, we realized we needed it.
We needed the quiet. The space to sit together. To lean on one another without words.
She lost her husband. The last thing Aaryn ever wanted to do was leave his family. There was no way I was going to leave them. Not when they needed me. I needed them too.
I can’t shake this feeling that I’m stealing something that was never meant to be mine.
When I look at Seren, I see him holding her as a newborn.
I see the proud smile on his face and the tears in his eyes.
I see her toddling toward him while he knelt with open arms when she took her first steps.
I see the man who should be here instead of me.
I can’t help but notice the slight tremble in Jasmira’s fingers when she reaches for the edge of Seren’s plate.
It’s so faint that anyone else would overlook it.
But the bond doesn’t let me miss anything.
Every shift in her breathing, every hitch of her pulse, every flicker of emotion that crosses her face—brands itself onto my soul.
But my wolf revels in the satisfaction that she doesn’t know what’s happening between us.
Slowly, petal by petal, what is growing between us is going to bloom.
It’s clawing its way to the surface. She doesn’t understand why she’s beginning to look at me with longing…
or why her pulse thunders when our eyes meet.
Her body aches for contact. My teeth grazing her throat, hands claiming every inch of skin, ravenous to taste, to touch, to see.
“How was practice?” Her voice breaks through my mind like a hammer.
“Good.” My voice is too low, too rough. “She did great. She remembers the whole poem.”
“That's great. It looked like fun, and if you need dance tips, I’m your girl.” She winks at Seren, who laughs but says no one wants to see a dancing butt with wings while sneaking a piece of the gravy-coated chicken to drop on the floor as soon as her mom turns her head.
“It’s all in the hips, baby girl,” Jasmira says, popping a green bean in her mouth.
Mellie slinks over, noses the scrap, and devours it with a delighted chirp, licking the floor clean. She sits back on her hind legs, tails fanning behind her, twitching with anticipation. My shoulders shake with laughter.
Forks clink against our plates as we share the meal and conversation.
Once finished, Seren hops out of her chair and disappears into the living room.
Beside me, Jasmira lingers, pushing a few of the green beans into a small pile on her plate.
The slight twitch of her knee tells me she’s aware of my attention on her, but she doesn’t look up.
My wolf pushes hard against my ribs, restless, aching to close the distance. Ready for the chase. I polish off the last of my faerie wine, wishing it were whiskey instead.
By the Seven.
She notices. Of course, she notices. “Dom, you okay?”
Nope.
“A little tired,” I lie. “But this is delicious. Thanks for having me over.”
“You’re welcome, and thank you for the wine, the flowers, and for being here for Seren.”
Always. I swallow hard as we stare at one another for a beat too long. Heat blazing between us. “You go dance with Seren, show her some of your moves, and I’ll clean up.”
“Dom—”
I take her hand, helping her out of the chair. “Go on,” I encourage. I lightly brush my thumb over her knuckles, wanting to be close to her. Just a small touch to feel her.
“Alright,” she whispers.
I clear the table and head to the sink. I turn on the faucet, but nothing drowns out the sound of the blood roaring in my ears. Why did I touch her? Why did I stare at her like an idiot?
If I look at her too long, I’ll give myself away. If I touch her again, I won’t be able to pry my damned hands off. How am I supposed to digest this? I can’t lie to her. I’m about to combust with the truth.
I take a deep breath to calm the panic. I need to get a handle on this. Chain myself down and lock myself away because as the full moon rises, the magic will tear through our veins, and there won’t be a force in this realm that could keep me from her.
We’re mates. Chosen. That should make this simple. But being bonded doesn’t promise mercy.