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I would be lying to myself if I pretended that reluctance didn’t sting.

All my life, I’ve dreamt of having a mate. Any creature with this instinct does. That fate might unite you with a partner perfectly suited, that the other piece of your soul might one day walk into your life, is a tempting, tormenting thing.

How many monsters have I seen find their mate? How many have I watched sink into that blissful peace and belonging with their fated ones?

Too many to count. And for each one, I felt a mixture of elation and painful, hollow longing for the same. I’d nearly given up hope I’d ever be blessed with a mate, and even now that I have, it’s hard not to let a small thread of disappointment creep in.

Not because of who Nora is. Of course not. But simply because I’d always hoped my mate would accept me as I am, that they’d see me and be just as enamored with me as I was with them. What freedom, to be known completely and welcomed with open arms.

It’s a foolish hope, a fanciful one, but it’s sunk its claws soul-deep into me and won’t let go.

What I’d give for Nora to see and love every part of me.

Shaking off the pointless angst, I finish dressing and walk back down the hall to the guest room, knocking softly. Nora answers the door a few seconds later, looking rested and relaxed, a winning smile on her face.

And just like that, my own worries and wants seem like nothing.

She’s lovely. Achingly lovely with her hair pulled back from her face and wearing some of the clothes Marta picked up yesterday. I’d had to guess Nora’s size, and make sure Marta bought a wide range of options so Nora would have something she liked, and the outfit she’s chosen suits her perfectly. A thick gray sweater for the cool fall day and a pair of soft black leggings that hug her luscious thighs.

It was probably too much—buying all of this for her—but I don’t regret it for a moment.

“You didn’t have to do all this, you know,” Nora says, thoughts apparently following the same path as my own as she steps out into the hallway. “I could have just put on what I was wearing yesterday.”

“You remember what I said about having someone to spoil,” I remind her, holding out an arm for her.

She seems a little bemused by the offer, but slips her arm through mine. It’s not a modern gesture, but I can’t help it. I came of age in a time where it was what one did for the woman they were courting. Escorted her, kept her close, and I’d do nothing less for Nora.

I watch her closely from the corner of my eye as we make our way from the wing where the bedrooms are toward the kitchen at the center of the house.

It’s not lost on me that the fact my house haswingsmight be a little off-putting to her. The whole thing is a modern construction I had built just a few years ago on a tract of private estate an hour outside of Seattle. There are neighbors not too far away, but it’s as remote as I could get while staying close to the city.

I’ve also got a condo in the city for times when it’s necessary to put in longer hours at Morgan-Blair and I can’t justify the commute, but I don’t really see a reason to mention that to Nora right now. With her history, it’s not a huge stretch to guess that wealth and power are far more of a deterrent than an attraction in a partner.

Nora doesn’t seem phased by the house as we make our way to the kitchen, and some of the tension in my chest relaxes.

I’d arranged for a private chef I hire occasionally to come by this morning, and she’s laid out an impressive breakfast spread for us on the kitchen island. Muffins and fresh fruit, a tray of crispy bacon and steaming scrambled eggs. Nora just shakes her head as she takes it all in, still a little wry and bemused, but grabs a plate and loads up without hesitation before settling down onto a stool at the island.

And… gods. That senseless, primal thing in my chest roars back to life.

My mate is here being fed and cared for.

The notion is antiquated, and my rational brain can differentiate between modern expectations and my own need to care for Nora, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still pleased as hell to have her here and spoil her a little.

“Anything else you need?” I ask her, settling onto a stool on the opposite side of the island.

Another winning smile, followed by a deep sip of coffee, and she shakes her head. “Nothing. All of this is amazing. Too much, really, but amazing. Thank you, Elias.”

Even though her words soothe and stroke the monster in me as we dig into our breakfast, the sentiment within them tugs at something guilty and sour in the pit of my stomach.

We haven’t really talked about what happened yesterday, and as much as I’d like to sink into the fantasy of having Nora here and pretending this is any normal morning, I know better.

“It’s no problem at all,” I assure her, swallowing past that guilt. “After everything that happened yesterday, I’m still so glad you called me.”

“About that,” she says, brow furrowing. “I’m sure I was just overreacting. Now that I’ve had some time and space to think about it, I feel stupid. Really, I should have…”

She looks up, words trailing off at whatever she sees on my face. No part of me wants to ruin this moment, but Nora deserves the truth.

“Daniel is in Seattle.”