Page 61 of The Broken Wolf's Redemption

“Okay.”

His legs went weak again, but thankfully he didn’t end up on the carpet for a second time. “You don’t—”

“Yes, I do understand. Believe me, I do. You’ve taken zero pains to hide yourself from me and I think there’s a reason for that.”

Yes. Because there was no point in hiding when she would have seen it all and known it all anyway.

“You didn’t want to touch me because it would make this real.”

“Yes.”

“If you touched me, there would be no going back.”

“That’s right.”

“You’d be tortured and lost. You’d be the one to surrender.”

“Yes.”

“What would happen if I touched you?”

He let out the shakiest exhale. “The same. The very same. You would own me. Every bit of me. Man. Wolf. Body. Soul.” As if she didn’t already. He’d been so afraid before that she’d know it, and that knowledge was the key to all power. He’d sought oblivion, but having her obliterate him? It didn’t seem like a thing that could work in his favor.

He handed her the keys now. Why not? He was already a man haunted. Having her own him wasn’t nearly as bad as facing the prospect of losing her forever. He didn’t know how it could ever work now that they lived in two different places. He wouldn’t ask her to give up her world and her life. He’d give himself anyway. Freely. Now. Always.

“I shouldn’t, then.”

“You should.”

If she walked away, he’d be nothing. He was crushed with the force of his need to put his hands on her. He wanted to wrap their fingers together and guide her palms to him. He wanted to pull her into him and give her what he should have given her from the start. He wanted her body, but he craved what was beneath. He wanted to own that, but only when she was willing to give it to him.

“I should leave. Now. Before it’s too late.”

“It’s far too late.” He couldn’t stop himself. He took her hand, and she hissed out a painful breath. He positioned the palm on his shoulder.

She controlled her breaths like she was martialing her courage, summoning strength. She stared at him without a single ounce of horror. She barely touched him, her finger tracking along the collar of his t-shirt. He should have dressed up for her. He’d wanted to, but thought she’d find it ridiculous if she showed up and he had a suit on. All he wanted was the clothes in a shredded heap on the floor anyway.

She touched him like he was delicate and fragile, like he could be wounded.

It should make him want to laugh, but it didn’t. He’d never been touched like he was worthy.

He bent his head and kissed the crown of her head. Her hand splayed out on his chest. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. The ache was a rabid beast charging through him, spearing his insides with its horns. He tipped her face up and waited for her decision.

Either way, she’d break him. She’d broken him already, but if she left, he’d be destroyed. She could kill him now, if she chose.

“You’re a bastard and I hate you. I hate that we met at all. I hate that you’re here.” Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “I hate that my answer is yes, when all it should ever be is no.”

He froze. He lowered his hand slowly and stepped back. This wasn’t the way he wanted her to come to him. Hating it the entire time. Despising him. Desperate to be free.

She shook her head and advanced, shoving him. She pushed him hard and he stumbled back to give her space. She pushed him again, until his back hit the wall.

“Yes,” she growled. “Yes, because I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s more than want. It’s need. I can’t stop needing you. I can’t stop missing you. You’re not about what I want or don’t want. You’re about what I need. Maybe we are fated, because if I turn you away, I know it will kill you, but it will kill me too. I don’t want you out of guilt or spite. I don’t want you to change. I don’t know how we’ll make it work, but since that stupid contract, I’ve been less than whole.”

“You wanted to sign yourself over to me.”

“Yes. Fuck you.”

“If you want to, you have full access.”

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