CHAPTER 12 JARED
Present day
Mauro's hand, which has been resting on the nesting kit, moves toward me and brushes lightly over my forearm. He pulls it back almost immediately, but the gesture is… sweet and consoling. I let my eyelids fall slightly, because I know the final piece of information still has to be said.
"Mauro… you need to know that I didn't come here by accident. I came here looking for my True Mate. A matchmaker with an incredible reputation told me I'd find my fated mate somewhere in these woods."
As I say it, I give him a pointed look, but still… Mauro's expression barely changes. He watches me with unwavering attention, though there's still a hint of tension beneath it. This time, however, it seems tinged with slight unease, as if something new is bothering him.
"In the forest… I went into heat." I trail off again, biting my lip.
Now is the part that sounds like pure fantasy, and I’m planning to watch for even the smallest reaction on Mauro's face and in his energy.
"It’s going to sound like crazy talk. There was…
a being in the forest that stayed with me throughout my heat.
It glowed with green and golden light. It's possible I imagined everything, delirious from heat, or maybe I ingested something, but I need you to know that something happened out there.
I wasn't alone. At least I don't think I was. "
A quiet pause follows. Mauro simply keeps looking at me as though he's waiting for the rest of the story. He doesn't seem remotely surprised by the possibility that I spent my heat with something supernatural. No shock. No disbelief. Nothing. He simply waits, and I have no idea what that means.
So I keep going.
"About the nesting kit. I don't know if I'm ready to accept a gift like this from anyone, or everything that comes with it. It wouldn't be fair to you. My life is complicated. There may still be dangerous people looking for me. I have a little boy depending on me."
I stop speaking and cough lightly.
"Then there's this whole mystery surrounding my True Mate, who's supposedly somewhere around here." I narrow my eyes, fixing him with my gaze, hoping he'll interrupt me and confess, clearing things up. But no. He stays stubbornly silent, which is a bit… discouraging.
"I’m confused, Mauro," I whisper, sighing. "I don’t know all the facts, and I can’t make sense of anything.
I don’t want to promise something that could fall apart tomorrow.
And I come with a lot of baggage. We’re drawn to each other, yes, but common sense tells me I need to be careful. So for now, I can’t accept this."
I glance toward the bundle and take my hands off it. Then I look back at Mauro, expecting some kind of response, perhaps for him to take the kit away. Instead, he does the exact opposite. He places both hands along the sides of the package and gently slides it even closer to me.
Then he takes his phone, and quickly types something. A moment later, the text-to-speech app reads the message aloud.
"Nothing in your past could ever discourage me, Jared.
I believe you are utter perfection. My own past is difficult as well.
I think you already sense I'm seriously interested in you, and this gift reflects exactly how I feel. But I also understand your situation, so for now, accept the kit with no obligations whatsoever. I don't want anything in return. I also know that no one should make life-changing decisions during heat recovery. If, after it’s over, you decide there could be something between us, I’ll be here. "
I stare at him in silence. His words lift some of the weight from my chest; my past doesn't seem to deter him, and there's something in his eyes that feels like warmth, longing… and deep hunger. But there’s the part that remains unraveled.
Staring intently, I'm waiting for him to say something more, to shed some light on this whole situation: the strange knowledge about me that the Santoro family seems to possess, Silvio's open declaration that he had been waiting for me, and the inexplicable way Mauro’s been treating me… the whole instant possessiveness.
But nothing comes.
I sense some kind of… wall, as if there were an area within him that offers passive but constant resistance to my curiosity.
And… I'm afraid of secrets.
Mark had secrets.
On the surface, he seemed like a good candidate. He had looks, he came from wealth, he had a promising political career, but he hid a great deal of darkness within him. So all those tempting, shiny things could never create a safe future for me, not really.
If my old self looked at Mauro, I’d see the same, material things. He’s the nephew of the owner of this mansion, he’s expected to inherit the entire estate one day, the land, along with a prosperous company, and… is devastatingly handsome.
A few years ago, that alone would’ve been enough for me to consider him a perfect match for me. But life has taught me too many painful lessons. I couldn’t wipe away my tears with stacks of cash.
And I don’t know Mauro, at all. I can't afford to make the same mistake anymore.
Morals matter, honesty matters.
I have questions ready to spill from my lips, prepared to dig deeper, but I can sense the unwavering resistance coming from him, like a hand raised in a clear ‘stop, don’t do this’ gesture. And that indeed stops me in my tracks.
And there’s one more thing on top of all this:
…the entity from the forest.
I can't completely let go of the thought that I might find him again.
Of course, that’s assuming he isn’t Mauro, I just can’t stand the thought of never seeing him again, even if only briefly, just to… say my farewell.
As ridiculous as it sounds, some strange sense of loyalty still ties me to that green fae. I remember his tenderness, the soft, gentle touch of his hand on my face. He was the first to show me this kind of warmth, and I cherish the memory.
So maybe I shouldn’t push this conversation any further, but simply accept Mauro’s short, somewhat vague reply as something that’s actually useful, something that might help me maintain some neutrality and distance in this situation.
Veyron suggested it would be better to wait these few days, finish recovering, and give myself some time to think. What I surely need is for this post-heat brain fog to lift, without the pressure of having to make any decision right now.
But…
That doesn't mean we can’t just casually talk! Take our time, kinda ‘feeling each’ other out, right? Maybe some secrets will unravel along the way?
There is one thing I could start with, since I'm curious about it.
"How did you lose your voice? Were you born that way?"
The faintest flicker crosses Mauro's face, and only then do I realize how that might have sounded to him. As if I were trying to figure out whether he'd been born… ‘defective’.
But Mauro doesn't let any hurt show. He simply lowers his head, types something into his phone, and a moment later, the synthesized voice speaks for him.
"No. I wasn't born like this. When I was seven years old, I witnessed my parents' deaths. The events that followed… caused me to lose my ability to speak. I was given drugs meant to erase my memories, but instead they damaged the speech center in my brain."
"You witnessed your parents die?" I ask quietly.
Mauro nods but doesn't type anything else.
"Oh dear Fate…" I whisper. "How… did this happen?"
He doesn’t answer. He sits with his head bowed, looking at his hands resting on the nesting kit.
Well. Here it is again, my complete lack of experience when it comes to difficult topics, and this one is super difficult. Maybe it’s too traumatic, or maybe… one more time I brushed against this wall that I sense in him.
I struggle, fighting with myself, trying to say something that won't sound fucking flat and insufficiently sympathetic, but what could I possibly say? That’s so horrible? I’m at a loss. In the end, I manage to force out a weak, choked-out, "I'm sorry," in a trembling, raspy voice.
Mauro’s gaze stays on the package containing the nesting supplies, and after a moment, mine follows.
Slowly, I lift my hand and place it beside his on top of the bundle. But I don't reach for his hand or try to cover it with mine. That would be too intimate.
We’re strangers, and strangers have… secrets.
Then our eyes meet and we stare at each other for a while, my thoughts bouncing around.
Seeing the uncertainty on my face, my utter confusion over what is going on between us, a flicker of guilt crosses his face, something almost painful, as if he's angry with himself for making me feel this way.
Then he bends over his phone again.
A few seconds later, the synthesized voice fills the room.
"Please, forgive me, Jared. I sense you are conflicted.
You want to know more. And I'm not giving it to you, but I have a reason.
Please, don't take what I'm saying the wrong way, but I don't want to tell you my story, because it’s…
heavy stuff and you're still recovering from your heat, trying to process what has happened over the last few days.
It would be too much to put on your shoulders right now.
So I'd rather wait until things settle." His gaze lands on the package. And he writes a few more words.
"Think of this nesting kit simply as a gift from a friend who wants to help you through this challenging time. You don't owe me anything. I'll wait as long as it takes. I'm a veteran at waiting."
I close my eyes for a moment and let out a slow breath.
What he says brings me relief. He sees the imbalance here: I told him my story, while he hasn’t told me his.
So the secrets may unravel after all. Still part of me wants to demand that he tell me now, right here, whatever it is, no matter how painful or difficult it may be, but on the other hand…
there’s chaos in my head over the whole True Mate thing, the fae, and the possibility of continuing my search.
Whatever happens, whatever I choose, I have to keep Tommy in mind. I’ll be changing my life’s course, and his too. For my son’s sake, I need to have a completely clear head.
"Then I’ll wait until then to make my decision, and I hope it will all be processable after all. Because what I can say for sure, if it were, I would be open to exploring… us."
Wait, what? Wow!
Those last words slipped out of me, going against my cautious plans, but they came from my heart. I wanted to say them so badly that it overruled my common sense.
And I immediately see how strong a reaction they trigger in his energy.
A smile spreads across Mauro's face, so bright it reveals his perfectly even teeth. He quickly types another message.
"'Explore' already sounds good to me!"
The joy on his face is so completely genuine, and somehow that makes me bashful.
I'm not coming to him with a clean slate.
I'm a divorced omega with a child. I have a controversial past. I've basically prostituted myself to those men for lucrative contacts.
And I literally had sex with some green guy in the woods yesterday, and yet…
Mauro looks genuinely happy, he doesn't seem to care.
He wants me no matter what. It's almost radiating from his energy, from his heart.
No hesitation, no judgment. His soul seems to embrace me exactly as I am, with no 'but'…
It's sweet, and it stirs something soft inside me, subtle tingly pleasure.
We stare at each other, both… silly grinning!
And my intuition whispers into my ear: he's the right one! Yes, go for it, don't stall!
Damn, so tempting…
I bite my lip, then slowly raise my hand and brush my fingers over his cheek.
Mauro’s beautiful eyes are fixed on me, our gazes tightly locked.
My fingers gently caress his cheekbone and jaw.
His breathing quickens, and then he turns his head slightly.
My hand somewhat slips from his cheek, but then his lips land on the inside of my hand, planting a soft, respectful kiss there.
I blush. Nobody has ever kissed me like this before. Like a gentleman.
The atmosphere hangs in the air like golden champagne bubbles, fizzing sweetly between us.
A moment later Emilio walks in carrying a tray loaded with food.
He raises an eyebrow when he sees us so close, with my hands on Mauro’s face, and then he notices the nesting kit beside the bed. Mauro immediately gets to his feet, takes the tray from him, walks over to me, and sits on the edge of the mattress.
My gaze drops to the tray, and I spot all kinds of delicious food: arancini, pieces of focaccia, panini stuffed with prosciutto, a bowl of olives, fresh mozzarella, fruit, and even a couple of cannoli.
I know this kind of food pretty well. I spent years eating at upscale restaurants, including plenty of Italian ones.
Mauro hands me a small plate with a warm arancino, a few slices of prosciutto, a wedge of focaccia, and a couple of olives, and I dig in right away.
In the meantime, Emilio pulls something out of his pocket, and I recognize my phone.
"This alpha, Veyron, fixed it. He's an electronics engineer, as he admitted. Dried something out, and voilà, it works." The omega smiles, adjusting his gold wire-frame glasses.
"Oh, tha… thanks," I mumble, throwing a glance at Mauro, who remains silent but doesn’t seem displeased.
I check my notifications. Of course, there's a long list of missed calls from Alex, so I quickly turn off the screen.
I'll deal with the guilt trip later…
Emilio lingers for a moment, and I catch him staring at the large package beside the bed. I can almost see the question sitting on the tip of his tongue, but the unspoken taboo surrounding nesting in ABO society seems to stop him from asking.
Finally, he lets out a small breath and says,
"Mauro, Renato said the second shipment of flitches just arrived. He needs your help. There's a discrepancy in the invoices."
Mauro nods and rises to his feet. But before leaving, he turns toward me and gives me a small, almost formal bow, a silent gesture of respect from an alpha to an omega. Only then does he walk out of the room. Emilio sees it, and his eyebrows rise even higher.
After the door closes, he tilts his head and speaks again.
"So… when's Tommy coming?"
A faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
I just stare at him with my mouth hanging open for a few seconds before I finally manage to pull myself together.
"Why does everyone in this house seem to know things about me and my situation?"
Emilio lets out a quiet chuckle.
"That's just how things work in this house."
Then he turns around and walks out, as though he has no intention of lifting the veil on any of its mysteries.