The funeral was beautiful and fucking awful. Being there and watching the grief brought me back to my parents’ funeral. It hasn’t been that long—seven months or so—and watching another family deal with devastating loss? It was terrible. Not to mention that watching Leighton’s body made me wonder if I’ll have to do that one day with Abe. If one day his illness will rear its ugly head and take him from me.
I shove that thought down. When I touched him tonight, I could feel how dark, how dangerous the virus is. It cowered away from my magic but lashed out at me the moment I called my magic back. But unlike my work with the buildings, I didn’t get the sense that I can fix it for Abe.
That’s devastating.
I suspect tomorrow will be hard too. He has meetings all day with Arkan and the protector team. He’ll call a town hall meeting as well, and that’ll be fucking gutting. I wonder if monsters will choose to leave Ever and go somewhere else, somewhere where Wesley isn’t focused.
When Abe parks the bike, I resist the urge to grab his hand and put it over my heart, to center him around its beat. To remind him that I’m here. His beautiful mouth is set in a frown, his eyes narrowed like they do when he’s thinking. It’s a look I’ve seen so many times on him. He’s lost in thought.
I used to think he was just scheming up new ways to be an asshole, but living here with him has changed my opinion on that.
He runs both hands through his hair, one stray blond lock falling right back over his scar. “I need to check the monitoring system and make a few tweaks. Want to come with me, or…”
“Abe,” I say softly.
Dark red eyes find mine, a storm of emotion obvious in them.
“Yes?” His voice is soft, too soft. The tone of a male who feels broken by what life has dealt him.
“What do you need?”
His eyes shutter, his fangs descending, but he shakes his head. “No, mate. What do you need? Grief is written so plainly on your face. Tonight must have been hard.”
Sliding off the bike, I hop up into his arms and thread mine around his neck, holding us close. My heart thumps steady and deep in my chest.
“Let’s check on things together,” I whisper into his neck. “And then go to bed together. And we’ll tackle tomorrow together too.”
He supports me with one big arm, his opposite hand sliding up my back to grip my neck. When I nuzzle the skin beneath his ear, he lets out a soft groan.
“I wish I could bite you,” he admits. “It’s such a centering, connecting function for vampires. I want to rant and rage at a world that stole that from us.”
I call on the hundreds of hours I’ve spent in therapy over the course of my life, ensuring I could manage all the emotions that come along with being a doctor for very sick kids.
“I wish you could bite me too, but you know what? You are enough without being able to do that.”
He turns to look at me, some unspoken emotion filling his crimson gaze. “There are a few workarounds,” he says. “It’s just my venom that carries the virus. We could get you teeth caps, and you could bite me. Perhaps we could—”
“I’m perfectly capable of biting you with these lovely flat teeth,” I snark, running a hand through his hair.
He smirks. “If you say so.”
I point at the castle. “Take me inside, mate, and I’ll show you exactly what I can do with these teeth.”
He freezes, body going tense beneath me.
“What’s wrong?” I bark, searching his face for any sign of pain or injury.
His voice comes out as a whisper, “You called me mate. You’ve never called me mate.”
He leans forward, chest rising and falling steadily. When his lips crash into mine, I give up all control. His tongue dips into my mouth, his hand holding me tightly to him. It’s not a sweet kiss. No, this is him staking his claim over my body and soul. He cocks his head to the side, tongue swiping deep into my mouth as his lips crush against mine.
My body lights up, demanding more from him, demanding everything.
“Inside,” I gasp as he groans and buries his face in my neck, dragging his lips down my throat, punctuated by tiny bites.
“Yes,” he growls, turning and jogging toward the castle with me in his arms.
Ben swings the doors wide as we rush through dark halls that used to feel ominous to me. Now they’re comforting like a cup of coffee and a blanket on a rainy day.