Page 27

“Stay,” she says, tightening her legs and arms on me to keep me from leaving. “Just for a little bit. I like you here.”

As if I could do anything but obey her sweet command. Bracing myself on my elbows, I smile down at her, not caring that she can probably see my fangs tinged with the lingering remnants of her blood.

“Satisfied, witch?”

She just hums low in her throat, not yet ready to concede my mastery of her body.

“No?” I ask, circling my hips against her. Despite the life-altering orgasm I just had, I’m still nearly at full-mast within her.

Allie makes a nonsensical noise of protest and pleasure. “Yes, you demon, I’m satisfied. And too sensitive right now to do that again.”

I draw my hips back, pulling out of her with a wet slide.

“Fuck,” she breathes. “Fuck, that feels good.”

“You take me so well, my mate,” I say, not thinking about the words, mindless with pleasure at seeing her marked by me.

Allie tenses. “Your what?”

What did I just say? Her eyes are wide, confused and wary, all the satisfied warmth they held a minute ago disappeared.

Mate, I called her my mate.

This time, when Allie tries to move away from me, I let her. Like sand slipping through my fingers, I try to think how I can explain why I didn’t mention it sooner.

Allie scoots back to sit up against the pillows at the head of the bed and wraps her arms around herself. “So that’s why you… all of this is just a biological thing?”

“No,” I say quickly. “That’s not, I mean, it’s not just that.”

“Explain it to me, then.”

“I know it’s not something humans experience…”

“I know about mates,” she says sharply. “Sure, humans don’t have them, but I’ve read enough to know…” She brings a hand up to rub at her eyes. “Oh, my god. Did you even want it to be me, back in the human realm? Were you disappointed when one of the others didn’t turn out to be your… your mate?”

I frown. “No, Allie, you’re mine. The Goddess chose you for me. And me for you.”

She shakes her head and looks away. When I catch the brief flash of tears in her eyes, a hairline crack opens up across my heart.

“Why didn’t you mention it sooner?”

I shake my head. I don’t know why I didn’t; I don’t know how to answer her.

“Stupid,” she mutters, and I know she’s talking to herself.

“Allie,” I say firmly. “This is not—”

“It’s just magick,” she says, cutting me off and letting out a humorless little laugh. “I should have realized. I shouldn’t have felt so… anyway. It’s fine. I just shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have read so much into it.”

“Allie,” I try again. “Can we just—”

“Is there somewhere I can clean up?”

Pausing before I answer her, I search her face, and hate that I suddenly find it too closed off to read. My Allie has been an open book since the moment we met, emotions and passion clear on her face. But now? Now she’s carefully blank, hiding whatever she doesn’t want me to see.

“Through there,” I say, pointing toward a side door.

Watching her get up from bed and walk away to take care of herself feels wrong on a soul-deep level.