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Awaiting Fate Page 9
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In an effort to distract herself, she headed to her garden to water the flowers. As hard as she tried, she didn’t succeed. Her attempts to keep thoughts of Cain at bay were fruitless. The image of Cain injured, as he had been the night he’d saved her, kept sneaking up on her.
Walking through the rows of flowers, watering each she chanted: He’s fine.
After half an hour, she was exhausted, from the sun’s heat and from her frazzled mind. Taking a seat on a bench, she sighed and closed her eyes. Seconds later, his familiar scent permeated her senses. Great, I’m losing it, she thought.
“Liv.” His voice startled her.
Parting her lids and meeting his too blue eyes, she sprang off the bench. “Oh God,” she whispered, her eyes scanning him from head to toe. He wasn’t injured; he was safe, standing inches from her, comforting her wrecked, worried mind. She released a breath.
Looking startled himself, he held up his hands. “God, Liv, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
As he stared at her with unhindered concern clear in his eyes, she realized: I’ve fallen in love with a demon. How else to explain why her mind was constantly filled with thoughts of him? How else to explain why she’d been out of her mind with worry?
Shit.
How could this have happened to her? She was inexperienced, had never been kissed or been held or made love, yet here she was in love with a demon.
“Liv, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
She meant to answer quickly, but the realization she’d fallen for a demon, made her ache and mute, so she nodded.
The sun’s rays darkened, she wobbled on her feet. Cain materialized beside her and wrapped a strong arm around her, steadying her.
“Jesus! Are you okay?” He sounded panicked.
She shook her head hoping the tightening in her chest would dissipate magically, hoping it was a just a school girl crush and it would fade.
She couldn’t possibly be in love with the first man she’d felt attracted to—one she could never have. And she was sure she could never have him. He had a mate somewhere waiting for him. It wasn’t her, and she knew with certainty because immortal men instantly recognized their mates. In that moment, they were overcome with the instinct, the need to mark and claim them as theirs. She’d known Cain for three months. During those months, he’d never treated her as anything more than a friend, and that meant no matter how much she wished it, she would never be his.
Her vision swirled. Panicked, she glanced around, realizing belatedly she wasn’t standing. Once again, she sat on the bench with Cain beside her. “Did you—”
“Yes, I did,” he admitted then paused, his eyes scanning her face. “Damn, you’re pale.” He pressed the palm of his hand against her forehead then cursed, “Shit, you’re hot.”
She nodded. “I’m overheated.”
He wrapped one arm around her waist then gripped the back of her neck with the other, pulling her face against his chest. “Close your eyes, Liv.”
She did, and as she did she inhaled, his scent spread through her like wildfire, soothing every inch of her.
“Open your eyes.”
Glancing around, she realized she was at the demon compound on Cain’s floor. She had been there once before, the night he’d saved her.
He disappeared then reappeared moments later with a wet towel. Pressing it against her forehead, he released a breath and said, “You’re scaring me.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted.
“You’re in shock. I feel it,” he said.
Shock? Well, that explained it. She couldn’t blame herself either, having just realized she was in love for the first time in her life. “That’s very sweet of you, Cain. I’m fine.”
As he continued to dab the cold wet towel on her forehead, she watched him. His face riddled with concern, his brows drawn together, worry lines marring his forehead. He anxiously and repeatedly scanned her from top to bottom.
It was only natural that it dawned on her at that moment why it had been so easy to fall for Cain. He was sweet, kind, thoughtful and caring. It didn’t hurt that he was handsome, gentlemanly, joked often and never angered. Since the moment she met him, he’d taken her under his wing, patiently taught her about the immortal world she knew so little of but craved to know everything about. On the very first night they’d met, he risked his life to save hers. A week later, when Cameron, werewolf council member, lost his temper, and shifted, Cain had been at her side, blocking her from harm with his towering frame. When Jocelyn trained for battle, he stood beside her like a shield in case anything should go awry. He was her very own bodyguard, ensuring no harm came her way, ever. All of it had drawn her to him like a moth to a flame.
She should have seen it coming. Every time he taught her, protected her, shielded her and encouraged her, she’d felt her feelings for him grow. Every night before she went to bed, she prayed for his safe return knowing as she drifted to sleep he fought Malums. Every morning, she dreaded finding out he’d been injured or worse.
She should have known.
Stupidly, she hadn’t.
She was too naïve, immature and inexperienced to recognize it until it was too late.
“Liv.”
“I’m okay, Cain. I promise.” Just helplessly in love with you, she thought, but left it unsaid.
He disappeared again and reappeared with a glass of water in hand. “Here, drink,” he instructed, taking a seat beside her.
She took a sip of water, felt herself relaxing.
“Sorry I haven’t been by to hang out,” he said. “I was in Treconomia, the demon plane. We’re trying to get new recruits.”
“For the Guardians?”
He nodded. “How are Joce and Landon? Are they getting along better?”
She rolled her eyes. “You know how they are. They fight like cats and dogs and the next minute, they’re going at it like rabbits.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve seen this mate thing transpire a couple of times already.”
She had often wondered if the fighting was part of the mating or if it was exclusive to Jocelyn and Landon. If it was part of the mating, she wasn’t sure she wanted anything to do with it, but perhaps that was just the inexperienced part of her talking. She couldn’t help the question spilling from her lips.
“Do Jenna and Lucas fight as much?”
“I’m sure they have arguments just not in front of anyone…Jenna’s headstrong like Jocelyn but more laid back, too. She was more accepting of the mating thing. I guess she figured there was no use in fighting something you can’t control.”
“And Jocelyn wasn’t accepting,” she concluded.
“Yeah, for about a week.” He chuckled. “You feeling better?”
“Yes, sorry about that damsel in distress thing.”
“You’re apologizing for that? I love being your hero,” he said, then that amazing smile spread across his lips.
Her pulse quickened. She felt her cheeks flush. Being so inexperienced sucked, especially at times like this because she couldn’t tell if he’d just flirted with her.
“You mean you like being the hero. I mean, of course, you do, you’re a Guardian,” she said quickly.
His smile faded. Briefly, she wondered why, then just as easily disregarded it completely.
Chapter 13
It had been Cain’s intention to tell her she was his the moment he unleashed his feelings for her, giving her a glimpse of how he felt, but she’d asked for a kiss and it was a kiss he’d craved for months.
There had been no stopping him.
His mate, Olivia, was finally in his arms, firmly pressed against him. Her temperature spiking, he was overwhelmed with the longing he’d battled for months. All he’d dreamt of was a single kiss, and finally the time had come. It had been worth the wait. His mate had beautiful full lips. Pressed against his, nothing existed but her.
As he kissed her softly and slowly, his demon demanded he mark her, chanting in his head he�
�d waited too long. Simultaneously, he battled another desire—the need to intensify their kiss and make up for lost time.
He couldn’t give in to either.
This was his first kiss with his virgin mate. He had to take his time.
But she was making it harder and harder. Every soft moan, every flick of her tongue drove him mad with craving. As she wrapped her arms around his torso to deepen the kiss and raked her fingers down his back, he growled deep in his throat. She shuddered, her body grazing against his, making him groan.
He ran his hands down her neck, and she arched her back in invitation. He couldn’t help himself then. His hand trailed farther until it grasped her breast over the shirt she wore, squeezing lightly. His mouth trailing down her cheek toward her neck, he kissed and licked her softly, searing the taste of her into him, knowing he’d never tasted anyone so sweet.
When the scent of her need wafted into his senses a moment later, he groaned. The instinct to take her nearly took him to his knees. I can’t take her, he chanted as a reminder, because at any moment he swore he’d lose control.
No matter his restraint, how hard he battled his demon’s desires to claim her, his body moved of its own accord. Tugging her closer, he reclaimed her lips again, then hungry for the taste of her skin, he dragged his mouth down her neck. Gums aching, a moment later, his fangs sprang to life for the first time, proving again she was his.
Mark her. Mark her now, his demon purred.
His lips parted; his fangs throbbed. Seconds from giving in to his deepest desire, he materialized feet away from her.
His eyes locked on his mate’s. Her lips were swollen from kissing his, her face flushed. God, she’s beautiful, he thought.
Her shoulders slumped as an expression of disappointment flashed across her face.
She wanted him. He needed her, but pleading and torn, he wavered. Still consumed with his desire, words escaped him.
Her gaze fell away from his then she whispered, “It wasn’t good.”
His eyes widened. Instantly, he closed the distance he’d forced and clasped her hands, locking them in his. “Why would you say that?”
“You pulled away.”
“Because I need to tell you something.”
Moments passed. Olivia stared at him expectantly.
The time to tell her had come, but he found his courage fleeting. He feared she’d run—again.
Without releasing her hands, he took a deep breath and shifted his weight then finally, he admitted, “You’re mine.”
She didn’t react. She didn’t say a word. Honest, he wasn’t sure if she heard him, so he repeated, “You’re mine…Or well, I guess I should phrase it differently. You are my fated mate…or female if you prefer.”
Then she did react. A soft gasp escaped her kissed lips.
He held still, waiting for her to say something…anything. During those endless moments, he felt emotion streaming off of her—disbelief.
When several more moments passed and she didn’t speak, he did. “I’ve known for a while. I didn’t tell you because I knew you…I thought you needed time to adjust to life among other immortals and your new responsibilities among the pack and…”
Pulling her hands away from his, she croaked, “W-what?”
Because he still felt her disbelief, he repeated, “You’re my mate, Liv. I know I should have told you before—”
“I’m what? I’m not. I can’t be,” she said rapidly then pushed him away, making room for her to hop off the counter, turn and walk away from him.
He moved as she did, grabbed her hand, spun her until she faced him again, then he placed his hands on the sides of her face, forcing her eyes to meet his. “Yes,” he contradicted. “You are my mate.”
“But…No,” she said firmly, shaking her head. She grabbed his hands at her face, pulled them away then turned from him again, walking away.
Running, she’s running again. I can’t let her get away, not again.
Panic clawing him, he materialized in front of her, blocking her escape. His eyes hardened to slits before, in a grim voice, he said, “Olivia, if you run from me again, I promise you I will chase you until I find you, and you know I keep my promises.”
He meant every word. She wouldn’t escape him, ever. Claimed or not, she was his, and he vowed he’d never part from her again, no matter what it cost him.
Chapter 14
Her wildly thumping heart stilled the moment he uttered the words that continued to replay in her mind: You’re mine.
Everything she wanted, everything she needed.
He was all she’d thought of for months, but it couldn’t be true. Her mind couldn’t grasp it. They’d been friends and only friends for months, and during those months, not once had he done or said anything to make her think she was his.
“I can’t be your mate. I’m your friend. You’ve never…you’ve never been interested in me that way,” she said in denial, her voice cracking.
He parted his lips, baring his fangs. Unconsciously stepping away, she gasped. Before she could take another step, his fingers bit into her wrist.
“You are mine. My fangs still ache with the need to mark you. I stopped kissing you because I was a second away from sinking them into your neck, and I just showed you how I feel about you.”
There it was, an answer to why she’d felt an emotion so powerful radiating through her moments before she’d begged him for a single kiss.
Her heart clenching in her chest, she brought her hand to cover it. “That was you?”
He nodded.
“But…but you…you told me…demons knew right away when they find their mates. You told me—”
“I did know right away!” He paused to run his hand through his hair then he said, “Do you remember the first Guardian meeting you attended?”
Swallowing the emotion clogging her throat, she nodded.
“I saw you for the first time the day before. You were walking across the street from NYU. I was there guarding Jocelyn. I followed you then spotted Landon and overheard your conversation. I knew you’d never met immortals from other breeds, and I knew werewolves are reclusive by nature, so I waited, knowing I’d see you the very next day. It was the best option for me—for us.”
She remembered the moment well because she’d been overjoyed with the chance to finally get a glimpse of the immortal world. Still, that had been months ago, so she pointed out, “But it’s been months since then!”
Eyes hardening, he shot back, “Don’t you think I realize that? Do you think I haven’t been counting the days myself? Do you realize how hard this has been for me?” He sighed heavily. “The moment I met you, you claimed me, and all I wanted and needed was you, but I couldn’t because I would’ve risked losing you altogether.”
No. I can’t be his, she thought, shaking her head in denial. She couldn’t be his because immortal males couldn’t bear being away from their fated mates, the need to mark them was unyielding, overwhelming and overpowered every thought, every action. He’d been able to stay away for five months, and for five months he hadn’t marked her, claimed her.
“Five months? You waited five months? It’s not possible. You wouldn’t have been able to control your need. Landon almost went crazy denying Jocelyn, and that was only three months.”
His eyes sparked, tinting their blue shade blood red then he snapped, “I never denied you. I waited for you. There’s a big difference, and I made every excuse to see you, to spend as much time with you as possible. You are mine.”
“No, no,” she said adamantly, shaking her head. She simply couldn’t believe she’d suffered for months for a male she belonged to.
“Yes. When I found you yesterday, you saw my desire. That’s why my eyes burned. I had spent days craving you without a glimpse, not knowing where to search. You are mine.” He tapped his chest forcefully. “My mate.”
Losing her patience, she shouted, “Stop saying that! I’m not your mate. You have—”
His eyes widened, clenching his jaw before he asked, “Olivia, why is this so hard for you to believe?”
Why? Had he really asked her why? Because it didn’t make any sense. “Because you…you’re an empath. You knew how I felt about you, yet you never told me.”
“I knew you were attracted to me, yes, but I wanted it to be more than physical attraction. I knew your feelings were growing, yes, but I didn’t know if you could accept a male who wasn’t of your kind. I wanted you to get to know me and trust me, maybe love me then when I told you, you wouldn’t be able to deny us a chance. You wouldn’t run, but you did anyway.”
“I ran because I was trying to forget you,” she blurted, then slapped her hand over her mouth as if the action would erase the words.
He recoiled, releasing his hold on her wrist. His expression hardened further, his eyes glowing a brighter red. “To further prove my point, you have no idea what I suffered for three days not knowing where you were or if you were safe, fearing what you just admitted, that you ran from me. Me!”
His eyes stark with pain shredded her composure. Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill. He’d willingly provided an answer to her lingering question, the reason he was a fraction of the man he used to be. And the answer was her. It was her fault. The realization drew grief so thick it choked her.
She gasped for breath as images of him assailed her: when he’d saved her from the explosion at the bar, when he turned in front of her, when she’d almost fainted after realizing she was in love with him. In every image, his jovial expression had transformed, replaced with fear—for her. While she’d lived in misery believing she loved a man she’d never keep, he’d lived in fear of losing a mate he never had.
Finally, she understood. His fear had stalled him, in turn hurting her. But she’d hurt him, too, by running away. Three days, she had been gone before he found her. He’d suffered. She wondered why he’d changed, and now she had the answer, an explanation for his moods, his demeanor and his quick-temper.
Without blinking, tears spilled down her cheeks.
He flinched, drawing his gaze away from hers briefly as if her tears pained him. “You are my mate, so there’s nothing I can do but follow you wherever you go. I can’t stay away from you, ever, and I won’t.”