Page 18 of All Saints Day
I can’t help but flinch in my seat as Dennis reaches out unexpectedly, his right index finger touching the scarred ring around my thumb.
“When did you know?” Dennis does his best to keep his voice steady, pinning me with his singular gaze.
“We saw the markers for fated mates when we—” I begin, but Dennis cuts in, his ire rising as his patience thins.
“I said, when did youknow?” Dennis pushes.
“I don’t know if you want me to answer that question.” I do my best for bravado—flashing Dennis a wicked grin, giving him the opportunity to reverse direction.
His alpha aura pours off him—the jealousy palpable against the iron grip of his self-control. For a moment, I wonder if he’ll back down—put on the placid face of the professional field agent.
“When did you know? I won’t ask again,” Dennis growls, his hands curling over the edge of the small table, his aura flexing with delicious power. If I wasn’t sure before about bringing him into the bond—I’m certain now. We need him.
“I knew the very first time I came inside her at the safehouse—even before we both realized she had escaped from her handcuffs but hadn’t wanted to stop fucking me.”
The words are barely out of my mouth when Dennis’ hands fly from the edge of the pressure board table to the collar of my hoodie, his fingers twisting easily in the grey cotton as he lifts me up and out of my chair with surprising strength and speed.
We’re nearly nose to nose—one of Seb’s beefy hands already clapped over Dennis’ shoulder—ready to peel him off of me at any second when I find my voice again.
“When did you know? That night in the field, in the tall grass—under the moon?” I allow my eyes to drift closed, the images painted on my mind’s eye; a shared memory from Louise.
I feel his grip on me soften. When I open my eyes—Dennis’ features have slackened, incredulity drawing his pained eyes.
“How do you…?” he trails off, releasing me completely.
“The bond of fated mates runs incredibly deep,” Sébastien cuts in, giving Dennis a less than gentle yank backward into the seat he’d vacated moments ago.
“We have seen a great deal of Louise’s important memories—of one another’s, through a sort of telepathic link,” Quentin explains calmly, one of his spidery hands crawling up and over my shoulder to caress my upper back; a gesture of comfort for himself just as much as me, after Dennis’ unexpected outburst.
Dennis buries his face in his hands as Seb looms large over him, but Dennis seems not to notice—overwhelmed by the recent flood of information.
“Why are you telling me this now?” he groans, sniffling back tears of grief and frustration.
“Having access to the mating bond for the operation will be an advantage we can’t afford to overlook,” Quentin is quick to answer. While this is true, I know he’s been quick to offer this explanation rather than the next due to his own pride.
Dennis’ hands drag up his face until he gets to his strawberry gold hairline—his fingers raking back through his hair, making it stand on end like a cockscomb.
“That would be quite the advantage,” he allows grudgingly.
“There’s also the matter of Quentin’s approaching heat,” I add, Quentin’s dismay written in his sour mouth and severely pinched brows. Dennis, on the other hand, has turned a shade of bright pink—the blush giving his handsome face a surprisingly boyish charm.
“Now, t-that’s making an awful lot of assumptions, isn’t it,” he stammers, looking away, a hand pulling at the collar of his t-shirt anxiously.
“Considering what we’ve seen in Tin-tin’s memories?” Seb booms with laughter—slapping an open hand across Dennis’ back playfully, nearly sending him face first into the table. “We’re not assuming much,” Seb adds with a knowing wink of finality.
Understanding blossoms in Dennis, his eyes widening as he realizes just how much we have him at a disadvantage.
“So, you’re saying—when I bond with all of you, I’ll see…” Dennis struggles to find the polite words. “Some of your memories?”
A wicked smile crosses Quentin’s lips.
“Greedy boy,” Q chuckles low, sitting back in his seat. “Yes, I’d imagine you’d probably see a good deal of Louise and I’s dual heat—along with the bonding session.”
Dennis’ blush only deepens, his Adam’s apple bobbing furiously as he struggles to swallow.
I glare at Sébastien, warning him not to let out a cruel laugh as Dennis bites out, “I’ll have to think about it.”
Chapter 8
