Page 26 of Semi-Fallen

He so wanted her to be right. He wanted more than anything to take her in his arms, kiss her until the worries nagging at the back of his mind disappeared, and just be happy together. But wanting didn’t make all the obstacles that stood between them go away. One of them had to be a realist, and if she wouldn’t do it, it had to be him.

Even if it killed him to hurt her like that.

“I wish, more than you know, that there was a way. But I can’t allow it. Once you’re safe, I’m leaving.”

There. He’d been firm and clear, but not cruel or cold. Surely she’d recognize the logic behind his choice. It would be better for both of them to reject their bond.

He held his breath while he waited for her reaction. Would she be angry with him? Would she hate him? Oh, fuck, she wouldn’t cry, would she? He wasn’t sure he could handle that. What if she—

Lane leaned back, met his gaze and shook her head sadly. Then she…tapped the end of his nose with her index finger and signed, You’re an idiot.

And with that, she hopped out of bed and made her way into the kitchen where she started foraging through the cabinets for food.

For the second time that evening, he was speechless.

CHAPTER 14

Haven settled herself on Lane’s bed in the lotus position and shoved another Oreo in her mouth. “So, what did he say then?”

Lane ignored the bits of cookie and cream that were clearly visible as Haven talked with her mouth full. Haven had many wonderful qualities, but good tables manners weren’t among them. It was just something she’d chosen to accept when she befriended her.

Oh, who was she kidding? She didn’t befriend Haven. Haven had barged into her life and practically adopted her as family. There was no choice in the matter. And Lane had never looked back since.

Which was a wonderful thing, especially now when she really needed someone to talk to and her parents were completely out of the question.

He said just because we’re fated mates doesn’t mean we have to accept the match, she signed.

Haven looked disgusted. “What an idiot.”

And that was why Haven was the best person to talk to in this instance. Right?

Lucien had teleported her home more than an hour ago. He’d disappeared with some mumbled nonsense she could barely read on his lips about finding a witch who could help him determine where…something was. Fucker hadn’t even said goodbye.

Fated mates, my ass.

“He’s using that word,” Haven said, “but I’m not so sure he really understands what it means. Why the hell would anyone reject a fated mate?”

Lane threw her hands wide. He thinks it’s too complicated. Him being an angel and me being Nephilim and all.

Haven snorted. “You can sure tell he’s new around here. It’s not like anyone has an uncomplicated relationship in Section 8.”

I tried to tell him that. He’s being a stubborn ass about it, though.

That’s when a gleam came into Haven’s eyes that would’ve made anyone who didn’t know her edgy as hell. The only reason Lane didn’t panic was she never doubted for a second that Haven had her best interests at heart.

“In times like this, I usually ask, what would my mother do?” Haven asked with a sly grin.

Lane’s eyes widened. What would Harper Hall do if she found her fated mate and the dumb bastard told her he planned to ignore the match?

Well, she wouldn’t sit around in tattered yoga pants and a Clorox-stained Star Trek T-shirt, binging Oreos, whining to her best friend about her lousy luck. No, siree. Harper Hall would grab the idiot by the balls (maybe even literally instead of metaphorically) and tell him how it was going to go down.

Because Harper wasn’t a wimp who readily took no for an answer.

Your mom would fight for what she wanted, Lane signed.

“Damn straight, she would,” Haven said. “So, the only question now is what you want.”

What did she want? Did she want a man who was dumb enough—or arrogant enough—to think he could ignore fate?

---