Page 20 of Betrayed Pregnant Mate

“There was one moment,” he says, “where I became lucid, and I started toward a cliff’s edge, thinking that if I just threw myself off, I might be done with it.”

“Jesus,” I say, shaking my head and putting a hand to my mouth. Tears well in my eyes at the thought of it—all of it. Him being on his own for so long. The pain that he’s been through.

But he hadn’t been through any of this when he decided to ghost me the first time. So, he might not be an evil kidnapper, but he is definitely not worth my romantic interest.

I desperately try to remind my body of this, hating how my stomach just winds tighter and tighter the longer I’m sitting next to him. I can’t stop thinking about the fact that I have never felt him inside of me, and based on what Maisie said, I might never get the chance.

“What are you thinking?” Percy asks, and I choke on my own spit, sending myself into a coughing fit.

“What?” I rasp, accepting a glass of water when he brings it over to me. “Why—”

“Well,” he says, spreading his hands out, palms up, “you came over here, asking questions. I just—I was wondering what you were thinking. What inspired that.”

“Oh,” I say, coughing a bit more, remembering why I came over in the first place. I take a deep breath. “What Maisie said is true. You might need another blood transfusion. And I don’t want to sleep in the clinic.”

“It’s better furnished than my apartment.”

That makes me laugh, and I turn my head away from him before my eyes can track to his Adam’s apple, the line of his jaw, his soft, twinkling brown eyes.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’ll get some things from the shelter, then crash on your couch until—”

“No way,” Percy says, shaking his head. At first, I think he will say that I can’t stay here, which makes my chest hurt a bit, then he says, “You take the bed.”

“Percy,” I say, swallowing hard and avoiding his eyes. It’s hard to look at him without the memory of him situating my hips over face popping to mind. Without meaning to, I take in the stubble on his cheeks and wonder how it would feel, which makes my face flare. “You are literally the one who has just been mortally wounded.”

“We are even in the vampire bite column,” he points out.

“Mine was a vampire bite. Yours was a vampire chomp.”

“I didn’t know there were categories for that,” Percy says, the corner of his mouth quirking up, “and I definitely didn’t know you were an expert on those.”

“Despite what you might think, the vampire nibble is actually the deadliest of all.”

“Just the phrase is enough to make me sick,” he laughs, and I realize I’m standing in his apartment with him, laughing and joking like we used to. I sober up, breathing out and looking to the ground when Percy says, “I’m honestly surprised you’re handling this as well as you are.”

“Well,” I say, toeing the tote bag on the ground with the blood kits. “I might have a breakdown later. I’m not sure.”

“Did you check your calendar? Pretty sure tonight isn’t free—it’s moving night.”

“I have a single backpack,” I say, thinking of that backpack at the shelter, and hoping I don’t run into anyone else on my way to get it.

“Still a light traveler,” he says, nodding.

“Right,” I say, rubbing my hands up and down my arms, nodding again. “Well, I’ll be back.”

“Thanks for the warning,” he jokes, half-heartedly as I rush down the hall and to the front door, entirely sure this entire thing is a massive mistake.

Chapter 10 - Percy

“What is that?”

I heard Veronica come in the front door, but I still jumped when she appeared behind me, goosebumps rolling over my skin. I’m too aware of her presence, I can hear her breathing, and sense how she’s standing behind me. Her perfume is as strong to me as if she had just sprayed it in front of my nose, and that underlying, ever-present cinnamon scent plays underneath it.

“It’s a lock,” I mutter, turning the screwdriver one last time and standing back to admire my handiwork. This apartment was a gift from Aris—he said that his grandfather owned most of the apartments in the downtown area, but Aris hadn’t gotten around to checking on them or fixing them up. Despite being a little rough—the paint peeling, every light fixture blown out, the apartment has excellent bones. Real, strong wood for all the doors and frames, nothing like the new constructions I’ve seen that seem like they’re made out of cardboard.

This means, with any luck, this door frame will hold if I lose myself and try to break it down tonight to get to Veronica. It’s a dark thought, but once you’ve lost control of your body, go into a psychosis so intense that you’re buried somewhere deep inside, gasping for breath and lost to yourself, you install locks. You put up countermeasures in case the day ever comes that your body doesn’t belong to you again.

And I can’t live with even the faintest possibility that I might do something to Veronica without knowing. Maisie has tried to convince me that so far, all the data points to that not happening again. That the antidote has completely wiped the wolfsbane from my system, clearing the nerve blocks.

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