Page 43 of Burdened Bonds

“Positive,” I say.

Her shoulders sag and she smothers a yawn.

“Time for bed, little rabbit.”

“It’s morning,” she says.

“Yeah. Best to travel at night and sleep in the day. Lie down now and go to sleep.”

She peers around the tiny hut. “Are you going to rest too?” I nod my head and she narrows her eyes. “There’s only one bed.”

“Yeah,” I say. “There is.”

“We’re not sharing a bed,” she tells me, already toeing off her boots and curling her feet up onto the mattress.

“Yeah,” I say. “I figured as much.” I tug one of the blankets onto the floor and lay it out alongside the bed. Then Ikick off my own boots, shrug off my jacket, and lay it over my shoulders, lie down and stare up at the ceiling, tucking my hands behind my head.

I hear my little rabbit fuss about on the mattress, then finally lie down herself. I glance over at her. She’s curled on her side with her hands tucked under her cheek. Our gazes connect and that sensation in my stomach goes batshit crazy.

I stare back up at the ceiling. What the fuck is wrong with me? I want to consume my little rabbit so badly, it’s fucking killing me inside. When I want stuff, I take it. I could take her now. Sure she’d kick up a fuss, probably zap me a hell of a lot with her magic. Hell, she might fucking kill me before I even got started. But that would be half the fun of it, right? Thatishalf the fun of it, right? When they scream and make a fuss?

Fucking and killing. It’s not a lot different. That’s why they call itla petite mort, right?

But this little rabbit isn’t the only one confusing the hell out of me. I’m confusing the hell out of myself.

I’m different. I’ve known that as long as I’ve understood what the word meant. It may bother the fuck out of everyone else, but it’s never bothered me. So I don’t do what I should. So I don’t act like I should. Yeah, I’m pretty sure my brain doesn’t work like it should. So fucking what?

But this, this is different. Because I’m lying on the floor instead of climbing on top of the girl I want to fuck.

“Renzo,” she says into the silence. It’s the first time she’s used my name like that. It has my head snapping her way. “Thank you for Pip, for those families, for … for those men.”

I stare at her. “You know I’d do anything for you, little rabbit. Anything at all.”

“I asked you not to kill those men.”

“Ahhh,” I say, my cheeks tugging upwards. “If you ask me to do something fucking stupid, something that’s going to get you hurt, then I’m not going to do it.” I shrug and her own cheeks tug up into an expression that makes her look a thousand times prettier.

“I’ve never had this compulsion before,” I confess. “You’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to do anything for.”

“Marcus Lowsky?” she points out.

“Not the same.” I wet my lips. “He wanted me to kill you and I didn’t want to do it. So I didn’t. Funny, because there were other times he asked me to do things I thought were fucking stupid, I did them anyway.”

“I guess you didn’t care enough about those things.”

“You think I care about you?” I ask her.

A pink color spreads across her cheeks. Even prettier. “Do you?” she whispers.

“I … I’m not like other people, little rabbit. I see how other people are. They get all scared, all angry, all sad. I was born all wrong. I don’t work like other people do.” She holds my gaze. “You care about your mates?” I ask her. “The enforcer, the professor, that stuck-up kid?”

“Yes,” she says.

“What does that feel like?”

Her eyes flick upwards and she’s silent for a moment. “It feels like … the room lights up when you’re with them. Like everything is brighter, more colorful and your heart beats so fast you can hardly breathe. And you want to be with them all the time, so much it hurts to be apart.” She chews on her lip. “But mostly you want them to be happy, to be safe. That’s more important to you than your own happiness, your own safety.”

I nod, turning over her words in my head. “Then I docare about you, little rabbit,” I conclude. “Because that’s how it feels.”