Page 16

Chapter 16

Bjorn

“ W hy marine biology?” I ask.

We’ve settled on the old couch in front of the fire. Penelope lies on my chest, her legs tangled with mine as we snuggle under a blanket.

She turns her head, nuzzling into my chest. “My parents wouldn’t pay for art school and the thought to defy them never crossed my mind.”

My chuckle rumbles. “That’s hard to imagine. You’re persistent.”

“In some things maybe.” She’s somber now, and I want to understand what caused the change.

“If you could have chosen for yourself, what did you want to do?” I run my hands along her back, trying to soothe her.

“Ever since I was little, I’ve been drawn to the ocean. Like, obsessed with orcas and stingrays, reading all about the ocean, collecting shells,” she admits, a smile in her voice. “My best memories were made at my grandmother’s house on an inlet in Florida. We would spend weeks in the summer exploring. But I never wanted to study it the way I do now.”

I flip a strand of her hair back and forth between my fingers and trail it down her nose, tickling her until she bats my hand away. “What did you want?”

“I wanted to live in the ocean, breathe it in. It always felt like my skin fit better in the water.”

“Because you belong to it, as do I. The sea calls us to our mates.”

She makes a thoughtful sound. “Is it weird I’m comforted by that? That means I was always meant to find you. And from the moment I met you, it was like I needed to know you, that you were somehow important to me even though we were strangers.”

“No. I don’t think it’s weird. I find comfort in it too, even though I was afraid of opening myself to you.”

She props her chin on my chest, looking up at me. “At least you did it. You asked what I wanted? What I dreamed of but was afraid to do was capture the beauty of the ocean as an children’s book illustrator. I wanted to explore the oceans of the world and tell stories about their creatures, make them accessible to kids.”

I wrap my arms around her, squeezing her tightly as she likes. “How did an illustrator end up a marine biologist?”

She sighs. “In my house, there was no college for art or the humanities. It was the sciences or math or business. I thought it was easier to avoid confrontation, to do what I was told.”

“Why?”

“I’ve always sought approval. I tried hard to be my family’s version of good, but it never came naturally. I didn’t know any other way to be. I was miserable and anxious all the time.

“When I was nineteen, I had a relationship with my undergrad professor. Daniel’s class was fascinating. It was one of the required humanities classes I had to take for my major. I went to his office hours once to ask questions and then kept going.”

“That was your ex-husband, the one I hung up on?”

“Yeah. He was older and persistent. I didn’t get a lot of attention from men or boys. It’s like they always looked past me.”

“Idiots. You don’t need their attention.”

Penelope laughs and I squeeze her ass, my Beast grumbling in my chest.

“Okay, you don’t like to share. I hate it, so we’re good.” She says the words teasingly, but I can hear the pain beneath them.

This prick Daniel helped feed into her parents’ bullshit. Penelope is bold color and bright laughter. I hate that they made her feel like less.

My record with her is far from spotless, but I know I messed up and won’t ever let it happen again. “I promise, Penelope, that mates are forever.”

I tug under her arms and bring her to me. She runs her hands in my beard as I take her mouth, promising her with my body what I said with my words.

The kiss lingers, a slow smoldering heat that’s more comfort than desire. I inch away and hold her delicate face between my palms. “Will you tell me what happened?”

She sits back, straddling my waist and looking at the fire. Her voice is hollow when she speaks again. “My parents surprised me for a visit and caught Daniel and me together. They loved him. He was everything they wanted for me.

“My dad comes from old money. I think Daniel realized that night that I would be a good meal ticket, and after that visit, we went public with our relationship. Professor positions are prestigious but not paid well and Daniel had executive taste. When we got engaged, my parents bought us a house and made Daniel the executor of my trust fund. As my husband, my family believed that he should be the financial and legal guardian of my affairs.

“You told me you think I’m fierce.” She laughs, but it’s a self-deprecating sound. “I think you’re the only one who sees that. I don’t even see it most of the time. Daniel lost interest after I turned twenty-one. I was in grad school and busy. I gained weight and he hated the changes. That was the first year he had an affair.”

“Fucking idiot. Like I said.” Penelope’s body is heaven. Soft and round and so fucking sweet.

She looks down at me, her violet eyes ablaze. “Yeah, fucking idiot.”

I squeeze her hips and run my hand along her belly. Her body is enough to sink into and get lost. She squirms atop me, but before she can protest, I ask, “What happened?”

Penelope sobers, looking at a spot behind my head. “I spent nights in the library a lot then, always working until they closed. It was near winter exams, and I was studying for a comp test. Our house was in one of the older neighbors on the edge of campus and I would walk home. This one night, I wasn’t feeling well, and I decided to come home earlier than usual. I saw him tuck a woman into an Uber. They kissed through the window, and the way he looked at her… I’d never seen him look at me that way.”

“You left him?” I tug her chin, forcing those eyes on me.

“Yeah,” she huffs, “eight years later.”

The look I give her is full of compassion. “Bad cycles are hard to break.”

“You don’t think that’s weak?”

“I think it sounds like you had enough and left to find something for yourself.”

She shakes her head, unconvinced, and squeezes her eyes tightly. “Want to know something awful?”

“I want to know everything about you.”

“Boy, for a man who started with botched bondage, you’re smooth.” She tugs on my beard, and I wrap my hand around hers.

“I want to know you.”

She takes a steadying breath and looks me in the eye. “Part of me thought it was my fault. He was critical of how my body had changed, what I was studying, the ways I failed to take care of our home. About everything in my life really, but especially the bedroom. I talked to him once about some of my fantasies. After the first two years we were together, we didn’t have sex often and I never came. My mind was always somewhere else, and I couldn’t connect to the moment.”

The words spill out of her, fast now, though they hurt to hear.

“When I told him I thought I was into kink and wanted to explore, that I wanted him to restrain me and take charge so I could focus on feeling and get out of my head, he said what I wanted was sick. He told me I needed to master vanilla sex before I could graduate to kink. I was devastated. I thought that if I could just be what he wanted, if I could prove that I was a good wife, then he would realize what he had and how much he loved me. It took me too long and a lot of hours in therapy to realize love doesn’t work that way.”

I sit up and take her with me, pulling her into a hug. “Your needs and fantasies don’t make you sick. They’re a part of you. A beautiful part that I can’t wait to explore more of. And you’re right, it doesn’t work that way, but it’s easy to believe a lie and to feel it’s truth.”

“Like that you believe you should protect your family. True. And they died. Also true. So with that logic, you failed?”

“Yes,” I grit the word, hating where this conversation is headed.

“But that’s not true. The blame for their death is on the warriors who took your land. No one else.”

“That doesn’t feel like enough.” No matter how good it feels being with Penelope, it doesn’t change that I should have protected my family.

“Let’s test the logic.” She pulls back from our hug, eager now and talking with her hands. “Daniel wasn’t satisfied in our relationship. True. And he sought connection outside our marriage. Also true. I used that logic to say it was my fault he cheated because I failed.”

“No,” I grumble, reaching for her.

She scoots away on the couch.

“He was an asshole who was too stupid to realize the treasure he had. I almost made the same mistake with you.”

“Correct.” She pushes her hand into the air in victory.

I crawl toward her and she scoots back again until she’s flush with the couch arm. My knee nudges between her legs, my body crowding hers against the armrest. “And we should discuss the fact that you ran toward your captor, not away like you should.”

“Correct.”

“Why?” I tilt her chin until she meets my eyes.

“Because from the moment I met you, I felt the same way I did that first time I looked at the ocean.”

“What way is that?” I ask softly.

“Like I was home.”

Those words land in my soul. I brush my hand along her cheek, trace her cute nose. “It was reckless.”

“It was worth it.” She gives me a saucy wink before turning serious, cupping my cheek. “Your family died. It’s an awful loss.”

I try to pull away from her, but she wraps her legs around me like tentacles and marches on.

“And you didn’t have anyone to grieve with. You didn’t only lose them, you lost everyone. I felt like I lost my whole world when I left Daniel. But even though I thought it sometimes, and blamed myself, the truth is that it wasn’t my fault. This wasn’t your fault either.”

My chest rumbles, but it’s not my Beast.

“You won’t win,” she says. “You know deep down I’m right. Because if you’re at fault, then I am too.”

I shake my head. I’ve given in to Penelope and the bond between us, but I don’t know how to let go of this.

“I’m not saying you have to believe it today. I don’t always believe my own truth. I have to remind myself often. The voices in our heads can be pressing and easy to listen to. But I’m gonna keep telling you it isn’t your fault, and maybe one day you’ll believe it.”

“Then I guess that means I’ll need to remind you every day that you’re beautiful and clever and sexy.” I wrap my hands around her and climb off the couch.

“Yes. I agree,” she teases, kissing my neck and collarbone. “Now take me to bed and remind me you’re my only one.”