Page 21

21

TILDA

“Y ou have to tell me everything.”

Peaches will not leave me alone as I wade out toward the waterfall, anxious to get myself clean. Reyes’ scent is still all over me, and I can’t seem to think straight when I’m drenched in that red wine and incense aroma. I take a bar of soap with me, wondering if the spell will break once I’ve managed to rinse him off.

I don’t think it will, though. I’m head over heels for him, and I can’t deny that any longer.

I don’t think I even want to deny it.

“Some things deserve a little privacy, Peaches,” I call back to her, glancing over my shoulder. She doesn’t have to be here—she’s not even bathing—but she’s taken to watching my back in case Frankie shows up.

“If you cared about privacy, you two wouldn’t have spent the whole damn night howlin’ at the moon,” Peaches laughs. “I always figured he must be a freak in the sheets…so I guess I was right?”

“Jesus, Peaches!”

“Jesus?” she snorts. “Yeah, you kept callin’ his name last night! ‘Jesus, Reyes, just like that?—’”

I blush, the heat crawling up my neck and burning my cheeks as I duck under the water, desperate for a moment to escape. Peaches’ laughter echoes around me, unrelenting, and I swear even the rippling water can’t drown out her teasing. My heart is racing, pounding against my ribs like it’s trying to burst free, and I’m not sure if it’s from embarrassment or…something else.

I can’t believe how flustered I am. I’m not used to feeling this exposed—not like this. Sure, I act bold. I always have. It’s easier to pretend, to put on a brave face and a sharp tongue, than to let people see the cracks underneath. That way, they don’t look too close. They don’t get a chance to poke and prod at the vulnerabilities I’d rather keep hidden.

It’s a defense mechanism. A mask. A part I play so people think I’m strong enough to stand on my own—and leave me the hell alone.

But Reyes? He doesn’t seem fooled by any of it. He doesn’t look at me and see a facade. He looks at me like he sees every piece of me, like he knows exactly what I’m hiding and why. And instead of running away or using it against me, he stays. He looks at me like I’m worth something.

And I think I love that about him.

It’s strange and new and completely unexpected, and it feels like it doesn’t make sense. But at the same time, it does. He’s everything I didn’t know I was missing. He’s steady, strong, gentle in ways that surprise me, and his faith in me—his faith in us —makes the world stable for the first time in years.

I try to wrap my head around it, but it’s like trying to hold water in my hands. I can’t keep it still. It slips away, defies explanation, refuses to fit into neat little boxes. And maybe that’s okay. Maybe it’s not supposed to make sense. Maybe it’s just supposed to be .

I linger in the water, letting the warmth seep into my skin as the cool cascade from the waterfall pounds against my back. My fingers work through my hair, scrubbing until the scent of soap overrides everything else. Reyes’ scent—rich, heady, like red wine and incense—is gone now, but no amount of scrubbing seems to erase the way I feel.

That feeling of closeness clings to me, an invisible thread tugging me toward him, making it hard to focus on anything else. I rinse off slowly, hoping the cool water will clear my head, but it only makes the longing sharper. The urge to get closer to him, to go back to his bed and feel his warmth against me, doesn’t fade. If anything, it grows stronger with every passing moment.

It’s almost like he’s still with me, like I can still sense him even though we’re apart. It’s not just memory, either. It’s deeper, more visceral, like the rhythm of his heartbeat is imprinted on me. I don’t know how I know, but I do—I can tell he’s calm, that he’s steady. He isn’t distressed or angry. There’s just this quiet, grounding presence humming in the back of my mind, like the steady thrum of his heart when I was wrapped in his arms.

I wonder if this is the bite doing its work. Is this what it means to be mated? To feel tethered to someone in a way that goes beyond logic or distance? I’ve never felt anything like it before, this connection that feels so strong it’s almost tangible.

Then again, I’ve never been in love before.

The thought makes me pause, my hands falling still as water drips down my face. I don’t know if this is love or if it’s just the bite—or maybe it’s both, tangled together in a way that’s impossible to separate. What I do know is that it feels terrifying and wonderful all at once, like standing on the edge of something vast and unknowable.

“So what was it like?” Peaches asks as I come back up for air, still staying as far away as possible. She splashes her feet in the springs, giving me a dreamy smile. “I’ve always gotten the feeling that he would be crazy good in bed if he ever pulled that stick out of his ass. I mean, you’ve seen the man dance.”

I bite my lip and smirk. “I mean…yeah, you’re pretty spot on.”

“So he is excellent in bed,” she says. “And the mating bond? What’s it like? I saw the bite mark on his neck.”

I frown. “You did? How many others?”

“Oh…” she pauses. “I thought you already knew–he’s just wearing it around the den like a badge of honor, darlin’.”

“Christ,” I mutter.

“I thought it was sweet,” Peaches interjects. “‘Like–this is my mate’s mark, she’s awesome!’ Isn’t that what being in a relationship is all about?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I’ve never been in one.”

Peaches has to do a double take. “Wait. Are you saying?—”

“Before you ask, no, I’m not a virgin,” I mutter, my fingers trailing patterns in the water to avoid her gaze. “But it’s just never really been a good time. I was sixteen when the Convergence happened, and after that, I was with the Heavenly Host. My first time was with another soldier, and every time after that…” I pause, the words catching in my throat. “It was quick and dirty. Always more about getting it out of the way. Just…working off tension. It wasn’t about feeling anything.”

Peaches tilts her head, her face softening. She doesn’t rush to fill the silence, giving me the space to finish. “I get it,” she says finally, her voice gentle. “And it ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed about, even if you were. I mean…” She hesitates, a small smile playing on her lips. “I’m a virgin.”

I scoff. “You’ve got plenty of time.”

“It can’t come fast enough.”

I look at her seriously. “Peaches…you’re, what—twenty?” I ask. “Barely older than my sister. I’m pushing forty.”

She frowns, tilting her head as if trying to calculate something. “How old does that mean exactly?”

“Thirty-four,” I say with a sigh.

Now it’s Peaches’ turn to scoff. “Tilda, really? You act like you’re ancient, but you’re a damn spring chicken. You’ve still got plenty of time ahead of you.”

I raise an eyebrow at her, the corner of my mouth twitching. “It’s not the years, Peaches—it’s the mileage.”

“Oh, I see,” she says, grinning. “World-weary and wise beyond your years, huh?”

I roll my eyes, but her teasing makes me smile. “Something like that. Look, I’ve been through a lot, okay? And…there wasn’t ever time for anything beyond sex. I was always taking care of my sister.”

Peaches’ face falls at the mention of my sister, and she meets my eyes. “Tilda?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re staying, right?”

It only occurs to me then why she’s asking–because of Enid . My sister, who’s still back at Homestead, while I’m here getting my mind blown by a hot priest.

“I think I am, if you all will have me,” I say. “And…well, I’m going to try to get Enid to come and live here with us. I think you’d really like her.”

Peaches’ face lights up with a smile, her usual brightness returning in full force. “Of course we’ll have you. And your sister too. I mean, if she’s anything like you—well, maybe a little less crabby—she’ll fit right in.”

I laugh despite myself, shaking my head. “She’s not crabby at all. She’s sweet, actually. Quiet. Smart as hell. Enid’s the kind of person who sees the good in everything, even when there isn’t much to find.”

“She sounds lovely,” Peaches says, her voice warm. “I’m sure she’ll be safer here than out there, anyway. She doesn’t have a family?”

My face falls, the weight of the question sinking into me. “Well…she has David. Her boyfriend.” I pause, my voice tightening. “The kid who shot me in the gut.”

Peaches freezes, her eyes going wide as saucers. “Oh…oh no?—”

“It was an accident,” I say quickly, cutting her off before she can spiral. “At least, I think it was. But I’m sure he thinks I’m dead. And knowing him, I can’t imagine he told her how it happened.”

Peaches lets out a low whistle, leaning back against the rock behind her. “Okay, so…you’re telling me that your sister’s boyfriend is the one who put a bullet in you?”

I nod, running a hand through my wet hair. “Yup. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. He wasn’t trying to kill me—I know that much. But he panicked, and the gun went off, and…here we are.”

Peaches shakes her head, her expression a mix of disbelief and sympathy. “He doesn’t sound like a very good guy, Tilda.”

I laugh bitterly, the sound hollow. “You know, I’ve been asking myself that same question since it happened. I mean, he’s been there for her since the Convergence. Took care of her when I couldn’t. But now…”

“Now you’re not so sure,” she finishes for me.

I sigh, leaning back into the water, letting it buoy me for a moment. “Yeah. I’m not sure if he’s the kind of person who’s good for her, or if she’s just clinging to him because he’s all she’s had for the past fifteen years.”

Peaches watches me quietly for a moment, then speaks, her voice softer. “What do you think she’d say about him, if you asked her?”

I blink, caught off guard by the question. “I…don’t know. She’s always been good at seeing the best in people. She probably thinks he’s a saint. And maybe he is, in his own way. But after what happened…” My voice trails off as I stare at the rippling water. “I can’t trust him. Not with her. Not after that.”

Peaches reaches out, placing a hand on my arm. “Tilda, you’ve been through hell for your sister. You’ve fought for her, protected her, done everything you could to keep her safe. And now you’ve got a chance to bring her somewhere she can really be safe. You’ve just gotta focus on that. On what’s best for her.”

I nod slowly, Peaches’ words settling over me like a blanket. She’s right. Whatever complicated feelings I have about David, they don’t matter as much as getting Enid out of Homestead and into a place where she can thrive.

“She’s lucky to have you,” Peaches adds, her voice lightening. “Even if you are a bit of a grump sometimes.”

I smirk, splashing a little water in her direction. “Careful, or I might rethink staying here.”

“Like Reyes would let you leave now,” she says, grinning. “Face it—you’re stuck with us.”

And as much as I want to deny it, I can’t help but feel a flicker of warmth at the thought. Maybe being stuck here wouldn’t be so bad after all.