Page 138 of Aine

“I have a question for you,” I say.

Damien hums, removing his face from my neck so he can meet my eye. “Yes?”

“Will you be upset if I give you girls?” My words are a whisper, but I can tell Damien hears them by the way he stiffens and sits up.

“Aine, I only care that we have happy, healthy children. Male or female means nothing to me,” he promises, opening the bond so I can feel his honesty. “We don’t believe in prediction healers here, and I’ll be quite offended if you ask to go to one.”

I relax, happy with that answer.

“What if our children come out more human than beast? Like your sister?” I continue.

His anxiety spikes as he sits up further, and I copy the action with worry. Why did that question make him so nervous?

“I need to talk to you about something,” he starts, running a shaky hand through his damp curls. “You asked the other day about my family and my treatment of you when we first met. I lied to you.”

I cover myself with our comforter, not wanting my bare, flushed skin on display as he says whatever it is he’s leading to. I already don’t like this.

Damien waits for me to get adjusted and sucks in a deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t try to push you away because I was afraid of losing you. I acted that way because I hated that you’re human.”

Damien raises his hand to stop me when I start to speak, and I suck in my cheeks and nod for him to carry on. “I grew to hate humans after my mom and sister died,” he spits out, the tremor in his voice growing. “I thought they weren’t deserving of love, and I was furious when we met. I was convinced my beast made a mistake and hoped he’d choose another if I severed the bond between us by being cruel.”

“But I don’t feel that way anymore, I swear. The thought of losing you scares me, and I worry a lot about your safety, but I don’t hate that you’re a human. I love you, and I was stupid to think you were a mistake. I want you, and if I were given the option between you as a human and you as a beast, I’d still choose this you.”

He leans forward to cup my cheeks when I don’t immediately respond.

“I don’t understand,” I admit after a brief silence, my head tilting to the side as I try to make sense of what he’s getting at. “You were cruel to me because you were scared.”

Damien shakes his head and pushes my hair out of my face. “That’s not true. I was cruel because you’re a human. Because I hated that about you. Not because I was scared.” He flinches as the words slip from his lips.

I huff, grabbing the hands that rest on my cheeks. “Yeah, and why did you hate humans?”

Damien refuses to make eye contact. “Because I didn’t believe they should be loved.”

Shame floods our bond as he’s forced to repeat it, and I can tell he’s not understanding what I’m getting at.

“And why was that?”

“Aine, I—” He starts, sighing when I repeat my question. “My father was destroyed after my mom and sister died. They wouldn’t have died if they weren’t humans,” he whispers.

“So they died, you spent your remaining years with your father watching him grieve, grew a hatred of humans because of their fragility and the pain that caused, then hated me because I was one,” I repeat, trying to make sure I’m hearing him correctly.

He nods, and I squeeze his hands in what I hope is a comforting gesture.

“Damien, you were hurt, and I understand you did what you thought you needed to do to protect yourself from feeling that again. That isn’t to say I’m happy about it, and you definitely have some groveling to do for the way you treated me, but I’m not going to sit here and be angry.”

He looks away as his cheeks grow wet, and I silently move to wipe the tears away before leaning in to give him a kiss.

Damien is precious.

“What’s done is done,” I say, “and I’m tired of dwelling on who you used to be. Right now, I’m looking at a man who loves and treats me better than I ever imagined somebody could. That’s enough for me, and I’d appreciate it if you stopped trying to self-sabotage what we have.” I press my lips to his again before pulling him back down onto the mattress with me.

“Now, will you answer my original question? What if our children come out more human than beast?” I ask, eager to hear the answer to this one.

Damien blinks once, twice, three times as he tries to make sense of my change in conversation. He opens his mouth, probably to try to punish himself some more, but snaps it shut when he takes notice of my pointed glare.

His lips twitch as he huffs and rolls onto his back.

“It’ll likely happen and thinking about it makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know how to interact with human children, and it’ll be a learning curve.” He rolls his head to the side so he can look at me. “But I’ll love them just the same.”

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