Page 122 of Devoted

Ithought I’d found Nirvana as I came inside my mate, but I was wrong.

I found it later, when he fell asleep in my arms.

After taking a shower together, we’d talked into the quiet hours until sleep finally took him. I was flat on my back, Sam on his side, snuggled up close. His head was on my chest, his breath dusting over my skin. One of his legs was flung over mine, his fingers digging into my pec like he was afraid I might leave.

He had nothing to worry about. I wasn’t going anywhere. I was as wrapped around him as he was me. My arm was under him, holding him tight to my side. My other arm rested on my stomach, my fingers laced through his.

It was quiet. Normal.

Everything.

I had my mate in my arms, and if I didn’t fuck up, it was where he’d spend the rest of our nights.

I didn’t plan on sleeping. I had too much on my mind, too much to consider. Gloria’s threat. Telling Sam the truth. How he might react. If he’d even want to be my mate. How he might feel explaining his condition to the Seraphim. What strategies I might be able to put in place to help him.

There was so much to think about. So many problems to solve. I should’ve been kept awake for hours.

But then there was Sam’s comforting weight on my chest. His slow, reassuring breaths. The scent of the honey shampoo he used filling my nostrils. All of it combined did something almost completely foreign.

Itrelaxedme.

For the first time in centuries, despite all the obstacles we faced, I felt content.

Without even realising it, sleep dragged me under, the fears forced to wait for the daylight.

I had one final thought as I slipped into darkness.

Everything will be okay.

It has to be.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I know.” Sam rolled his eyes at me, likely because this was the fifth time I’d said that in as many minutes. “But you were right last night. I have to be honest with them. It’s not fair, otherwise.”

“You don’t have to do it face-to-face though.” I kissed his temple. “Honestly, it might be easier to do it in the group thread. Less of them talking over you.”

Sam worried at his lip, flipping his phone over and over in his hands. “What if they judge me for doing it that way?”

“They won’t,” I said firmly. “I promise.”

We were sat in the living room of my suite, our empty breakfast plates on the coffee table. I’d gone down for foodmyself this morning, knowing it would make Sam more comfortable than having one of the others bring it up for us.

I’d also known he wouldn’t want to face them until he’d opened up about yesterday. While I’d been all about the idea last night, seeing his anxiety in the light of day, I couldn’t help but worry.

Telling themwasthe right thing to do, but I hated that it had come to this. That Sam was having to tell them because of something that had happened, not because he felt ready to.

“Hey”—Sam squeezed my knee—“I can hear you worrying from here.”

I gave him a grim smile. “Literally impossible, but okay.”

“I do want to tell them,” he insisted. “It’s not something I hide. And you’re right, they won’t understand me if they don’t know what’s going on.”

“I know.” I wiped a hand over my face. “I just hate that it’s making you anxious.”

Sam laughed at that, the light sound easing the tightness in my chest. “Hun, sometimes even my breathing makes me anxious. If you’re hoping to prevent everything that causes me anxiety, you’ll never get anything done.”

“I’m failing to see a problem with that.”

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