Eight
Thunder woke Maddox. He lay in bed and stared at the ceiling for a while, listening to the rain. He saw Melina’s note and felt guilty for passing out on her. He didn’t deserve her as a friend. His head was clear of the junk he’d put in his system with Kendrick. He got up and changed out of his pajamas pants. Since he still didn’t have his new watch back, he strapped an old one over his mark.
Half of him was relieved to be alone, the other half was desolate. He paced around the house, his mind circling everything he wished he could forget. He thought about Selena. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. He figured he was cursed to be haunted by her for the rest of his life. Why had she been so stupid? Why did she put such a value on him? He was worthless.
Maddox wished he could shed his skin and be someone else. He would have looked in a mirror and tried to use the small amount of shifter ability he had to change his appearance, but he couldn’t stomach the idea of looking at himself. His own eyes condemned him.
The perimeter alarm sounded. He glanced out the window. He couldn’t see anything out of place. He opened the door and stepped outside.
An odd scratching noise came from beyond the rock wall around the garden. Frowning, he stepped out into the rain and walked toward the gate. He should ignore it, he told himself, but he continued on anyway.
The noise stopped.
“Maddox!”
His heart lurched. The resonance of the voice that shouted his name tore something inside him. He pushed the vines covering the open gate aside and looked to the outer barrier a few feet away. She wasn’t looking at him. She was looking away, her head thrown back. It’s her. That was all he could think. It’s her. The girl he’d lost in the crowd. He’d know that red hair anywhere.
Her shoulders shook as if she cried. He was transfixed. He couldn’t say anything to her. He moved closer to the barrier. She wailed. He touched the dome. It shimmered and opened silently.
“Hello.”
She jumped and spun on him, a knife in hand, raised…
Time ended. The fabric of the universe tore, as did he. Her eyes connected with his, and he ceased to be. He was dissolved. A bridge of light and spirit connected her heart to his. Her hands to his. A million golden threads of fire tied her to him and him to her. No thoughts, no identity, nothing but the connection existed, and it was insane with starvation.
The knife in her hand shook as she tried to strike but couldn’t. Tears and rain ran down her cheeks. She bared her teeth and slowly lowered the knife to his chest. He didn’t move, his mind blank and on fire. Her eyes rolled back in her head for a second. His hands grasped her above the elbows. First eye contact had bound them. The first touch was something else.
The second his skin touched hers, her eyes snapped back to his, alight with the soul bridge between them. The knife slashed at him, but it never broke the skin. She cut his shirt open. Then she was in his arms. He pulled her backward through the garden gate. Nothing could stop it. Nothing. Choice did not exist in this moment. The threads pulled tighter and tighter until it was unbearable. She tore at him and he tore at her until he was inside her. Light and fire slid along every vein as they became one. They couldn’t get any closer, and even then it wasn’t enough. More, still more! The connection demanded, the threads pulling tighter.
The raindrops hitting their bare skin turned to steam. When she arched and cried out, he felt himself die and be reborn, his body shattering under the force of pleasure. The pulling eased, but it didn’t vanish. Panting, eternity lived between one heartbeat and the next as they looked, stunned, into each other’s eyes. Destiny had spoken, and they were powerless against its verdict.
As her breathing slowed, her eyes went oddly hollow, and tears built layers along her bottom eyelids and then spilled over. She trembled in his arms and shook her head.
“No…” Her whisper was agony. “Not this.”
The knife was still in her hand. They’d joined body and soul, and she’d held the knife the whole time. He took it from her hand, not knowing what to say.
Her head fell back, her face to the sky. “No!” she screamed.
The next second she slumped against him, unconscious. He carried her into the house, leaving the shreds of their clothes strewn on the ground.
Maddox laid her on his bed and covered her up. She was his destiny. His life mate. His soul was forever tied to hers. And he didn’t even know her name.
Freezing and burning up at the same time, he threw on some pants and climbed, shirtless, onto the bed next to her. He leaned back, propped on his elbows, and stared. Had that really just happened? His mind flashed through it all, not sure of the amount of time that had passed outside. The rain, her eyes, the feel of her skin, and the knife shaking in her hand as they'd had each other in a fit of unreasoning need. He hadn’t chosen it. He’d had no control. He couldn’t wrap his brain around it, but his body confirmed it. Her heart burned inside his. He felt its beating inside the walls of his own heart.
Shivers covered his skin. He rubbed the heel of his hand over his aching chest. The heat trembled under the surface. The bond had its own needs, like a separate entity, possessing him. It made him touch her. He had to. He needed to.
Still unconscious, her breathing hitched, and shivers covered her skin the second he ran his fingertip down her arm. Whoa, that was an amazing response. Even unconscious, her body lit up under the faintest pressure of his caress.
His…
He frowned. Was she crazy? She’d acted crazy.
He tried to compare the level of sexuality they’d just shared in the garden to anything else he’d ever experienced. His mind strained. He’d been with so many casual partners, and yet they blurred in his mind. He barely remembered their faces or their names at all. What had she done to him? He wasn’t the same. Having her was unlike anything he’d ever felt or done. No physical pleasure in the past could compare to being inside her.
She moaned and rolled to her side. She was waking. He rushed to his parent’s room and grabbed her some of his mom’s clothes. Her eyes pinned him as he came back in the room, and again, they filled with tears.
“No!” she screamed at him, holding his blanket to her chest. “This cannot be happening!”
His heart collapsed. Nothing had ever hurt as much as the look in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? I hate you! I came here to kill you!”
She pulled her knees up to her chest, covered her face with her hands, and sobbed. What should he do? He wanted to hold her, comfort her, but he figured she wouldn’t accept it. It would just make things worse, if that was possible. He didn’t understand. Girls came up to him all the time, just to look in his eyes to see if they were possibly his destined life mate. He’d found her, and she acted like he was planning to torture her or already had. He didn’t even know her. Why would she hate him?
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Slowly. Approach slowly. The way he might a small, frightened animal. Maybe she’d been a virgin until a few minutes ago and the experience was too harsh and terrifying for her.
But that didn’t seem right, she’d been ruled by the pull as well. She fought, not to get away, but to get closer, to have more. She’d touched him as much as he’d touched her. And she’d cried out in pleasure, not pain. Nothing about her body’s response was in doubt.
He came one step closer.
Her head shot up, fury in her eyes.
“Here,” he said quietly, holding the clothes out to her.
She snatched them from his hand. He left the room and shut the door before she had the chance to order him out.
He paced, staring at the closed door. It seemed to take forever. Dressed, she burst from his room, looked for the front door, and headed right for it.
“Wait!”
She stopped, her hand on the knob and turned to him, her expression caught between fear and fury. Then she jabbed her finger at him. “Don’t tell anyone about this!” Her voice was sharp.
Under the hurt, a spark of anger ignited. He took a step toward her.
“Stay away from me!” she shrieked.
“I’m not going to touch you. But it’s not your choice who I tell about this.”
Her mouth fell open, and all the color drained from her face. “Please.” Her voice shifted from sharp to quiet desperation. “I’m begging you. Please, don’t tell anyone about this.”
He hesitated, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Why? What did I do to you? Why did you want to kill me?”
“Do. Present tense.”
“Why?”
Her bottom lip trembled. “Selena…. She was my best friend.”
“Oh gosh…” His voice was barely audible.
Her eyes held him in a well of despair. “You killed her.”
“I did not!”
“You’re a liar!”
He moved toward her. She pulled the door open, trying to bolt. He grabbed her arm, pulled her back, and slammed the door. She pressed her back against the door, looking at him fearfully. He didn’t think how to do what he did next. Instinct led him. He grabbed her hand, forced it open with his thumb, and held her palm flat over his heart.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
She did, her eyes round.
“I did not kill Selena. I swear.”
The bond shivered and stretched between them. There was no way to be dishonest like this. No way to hide. Her hand against his heart, the boundary of flesh was nothing, she was inside him, a part of him.
She closed her eyes and nodded, tears sliding down her cheeks again. “Okay, damn it. I believe you. Let me go. I still hate you!”
His grip on her hand eased, and she jerked it back.
“So what happens now?” he asked, aching to touch her again.
“I don’t know. Just leave me alone. Don’t look for me. We can pretend this never happened, and we never have to see each other again.”
As soon as she said it, he knew that was impossible. Was it necessary to say it aloud though?
“Okay.” He backed away so she could open the door.
She frowned at him as if he confused her and opened the door. She hesitated, looking torn.
“What?” he asked.
She rubbed her arms like she was cold. He felt it in his own arms and hands, the longing to touch. She wanted to touch him. Or she needed to.
“It hurts,” she said quietly.
“I feel it, too.”
He held his hand out to her, hesitantly. She looked at it and flinched. He shrugged and dropped his hand like he didn’t care, but he felt sick. She took a tentative step out the door.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
She turned again and faced him, her eyes confused and hurting, but she no longer looked like she was going to start screaming and throwing things at him. His heart ached like it was filled with nails. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She surpassed every other woman without question.
“Erin.”
Erin. It was perfect. It suited her completely, and he’d never met anyone else with that name.
“It’s beautiful.”
Her eyes flashed angry again. “Don’t!” she snapped.
“What? Don’t what?”
“Don’t flatter me. Don’t compliment me. Your silver tongue won’t work on me. I’m not one of your whores.”
He wanted to shout at her. No shit, she wasn’t his whore. She was his mate! He sighed and didn’t answer.
“Are we done?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Are we?” he challenged.
“Are you?” she shot back.
“No. Hell no, I’m not done with you. But I’ll leave you alone, for a while. You know where I am. You don’t have to tell me where you live. I’m sure I can find you even if you tried to keep it secret. Maybe once this pull starts to make us deranged and we can’t stand it, we’ll talk again.”
“And until then?” she asked.
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“I have a boyfriend.” She lifted her chin defiantly.
“And?” He was successful in sounding glib, but her words made him burn.
“Damn you, Maddox!” She exploded, charging at him. “You’ve ruined my life! I wish you were dead! I want my friend back! Why did you touch me? Who said you could?” She slapped him in the face, really hard. The next second she was clawing at him like she wanted sex again.
He grabbed her wrists and pulled her against him. “Shhh…” He held her tightly.
She groaned, holding him like a lover one second, fighting to get away the next.
“I didn’t do this to you, Erin. And you didn’t do it to me. It just happened. We didn’t choose it.”
“I don’t want it.”
“I don’t want it, either,” he lied. “Let’s just try to get through the next few days, okay? Without hacking holes into one another, please. I won’t tell anyone if that’s how you want it.”
She pulled back and looked into his face. “Thank you…I…I’m sorry for striking you just now.”
She reached up to touch his abused cheek and hesitated. She shook her head as if she could shake her thoughts clear. “I have to get away from you. It’s like a war inside me.”
“Go.” His voice was quiet.
She ran out the door and into the rain. He watched her go, his soul splintering. It went against everything inside him to stay there. He should go with her, make sure she got home safely. He had to protect her…even from himself?
He closed the door, leaned against it, and slid down to the floor. His eyes burned with tears. He should be happy. He’d found his mate. That was supposed to be joy and ecstasy. Instead, he hurt so badly death seemed preferable.
Erin. He didn’t know anything about her, but she was his. Did Destiny make mistakes?
He wished his parents were there. He needed some guidance about this. They were life mates. They would know what he should do. Growing up, watching his parents, seeing how amazing it could be to have a life mate…. He didn’t want to lose her. It could be incredible for both of them.
Patience. Give it time…
He hit his forehead with his knuckles. What was he thinking? She’d come here to kill him. Not tell him off. End his life. So, he’d convinced her he didn’t kill Selena. That had been her best friend, and no matter how he looked at it, some of it was his fault. How did they get past that? Was it even possible?
And she had someone else. Someone she actually loved. He thought about this faceless guy, and the rage was instant. Erin was his. His mate.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, everything about her filling his mind. Everything about taking each other in the rain, every detail came back, and he blew out a breath. That had been crazy. He couldn’t walk away. She’d destroyed him with her body and claimed him with her soul. It wasn’t a one-way street. She said it hurt. Did it hurt her the way it hurt him? If he wanted her, surely she wanted him in return.
It hadn’t been complete he suddenly realized. They hadn’t kissed even once…the thought of kissing her mouth sent a wave of sensation through him. He fixated on the memory of her lips for a while, their shape, and color. He sighed. Patience…
So much she had against him…this wasn’t going to be easy. He smiled to himself miserably. That just made him want it more. He was sick of things being so easy. His hands already hurt with the ache to touch her again. How long could she hold out? How long could he? The longer they stayed away from each other, the better it would feel? He wanted to find out.