The Awakening: Aidan (19 page)

“Do you look forward to death?”

“Not in the way you’re asking, no. When it is my time, it will be my time. Until then, I will live the life given to me here. She’d want it no other way.”

He patted her hand, then went back to preparing dinner, marking the end of the conversation. She stared at his back. Everything he’d said went against everything she’d ever believed.

She was an expert in her field, and yet, she was now discovering, she knew absolutely nothing.

…

Jaylin curled her feet up under her on the cushy wicker chair in the living room, making sure to not put pressure on the site of her sting. She stared out across the beach, her chin propped in her hand. Today had been a day of eye-openers, which was ironic since she had always believed she was an eyes-wide-open sort of person.

Apparently she wasn’t and was instead completely blind to so many things around her.

A hard pill to swallow, and it left her confused, wondering how she was supposed to make sense of everything she’d learned when she’d spent years thinking the complete opposite, her opinion growing more concrete with each
Wydow
case she’d taken.

An opinion that had been completely solidified the day Stephanie Cross walked into her office, on the verge of making a tragic decision. A woman who didn’t just grieve the loss of her mate, but also the children she’d never have, the dreams that had been taken away. A woman who wanted nothing more than to end her life so she no longer had to face her future.

All at the age of twenty-three.

Yet she’d known suicide would ensure she’d never be with her mate again, as it was forbidden and severed the connection of the
Fewshon
. She was stuck in a life, hoping some freak accident would end her suffering.

Jaylin’s mom had always insisted that she was happy, that Jaylin was wrong, she wasn’t living waiting for death. Stephanie never had.

She cursed the bond. Became bitter.

Became a shell of her former self.

Was Stephanie the exception and not the rule?

With what her mother, and now Rafael, insisted, it would seem so.

Did the length of time the couple was bonded play into how quickly the living mate found peace?

Stephanie had had less than twenty-four hours with hers. And in three years of therapy, not once had she mentioned feeling any resemblance of peace. She only spiraled deeper, hating herself and everything around her, until one day she’d finally gotten her wish by way of a car accident.

Had she embraced death the moment it was offered to her instead of fighting to live?

The unknown was terrifying.

The
Fewshon
was terrifying.

Thinking of being without Aidan was starting to be terrifying.

The third one frightened her the most.

Chapter Ten

Aidan stuck his head in the house, scanning the living room for any sign of Jaylin. When he saw none, he stepped inside.

Tiptoeing around his mate. Pathetic.

Truth be told, he didn’t
want
to see her, but he sure as hell didn’t want to walk around the woods anymore either. What he wanted was to call the mainland, book a copter, and get the hell out of dodge.

Walk away with some pride intact. What minuscule amount he still had left, anyway. Jaylin had stomped on a majority of it, while the instinct had all but obliterated the rest.

The
Drall
.

A supposedly beautiful gift handed to them by their Dea to ensure everlasting love. In reality it was a pile of shit wrapped in pretty paper. Those who had ripped it open unscathed had no idea how fortunate they were—how close to everlasting pain they’d come.

Him?

He’d won the jackpot of all jackpots in the mate lottery. Wasn’t he a lucky fuck?

Aidan shook his head. No, that was Liam. Yeah, Aidan’s situation sucked, but at least he hadn’t bonded to Jaylin. He still had a chance at a normal life.

Just like Jaylin wanted.

The thought sent another wave of fury over him—an emotion that had gotten stronger with each passing minute and step he’d taken since leaving her on the deck.

She refused to commit to him for all eternity—a man who loved her, who was her other half, made for
her
. That wasn’t good enough. She’d rather gamble her afterlife on a human, just so she could be free in life.

Fuck. That.

He grabbed the phone off the end table and stared at the numbers.

Dial, fool.

The beast’s hackles rose, a low growl emanating from it. Ignoring the animal, Aidan focused on the dial pad, forcing his hand to move, and yet the damn appendage hovered above the numbers, refusing to cooperate.

She doesn’t want us.

The beast snarled. Tail whipping.

How can you still want to do this? She’d reject us before bonding to us.

A paw swiped at him as a caterwaul shook his insides.

Would he always feel like this? Even after she was gone from his life? Would his beast always press him to mate, find her—take her?

He was torn in two, with a side that had become increasingly difficult to control.

No, he was in control.
Dial
.

His beast laughed at him—or maybe it was him laughing at himself, laughing at the absurdity of the entire situation.

He threw the phone on the couch. If his beast wouldn’t let him man up and leave, maybe he should outright ask Miss-Know-It-All how to be free of her, get a free therapy session in before they went home.

That’s right, O’Connell, hold on to the anger. It’s the only thing saving you now.

Aidan walked by the bedroom and stopped at the sound of running water.

Shower.

Jaylin. Naked. Waiting.

His cock tightened expectantly, pissing him off even more. He had no control over anything anymore. Cursing his inability not to, he stepped inside the room and froze. Jaylin stood under the outside shower, her head tilted back, hands brushing her hair from her face. Her breasts jutted forward as water sluiced down her body, wetting the small line of hair at the apex of her thighs.

His beast’s ears twitched. Another part of his body twitched.

He was at the mercy of his body, needing to be inside her, all the while knowing he was never going to be enough for her. He cursed his weakness, cursed the hard cock between his legs that pulsed with anticipation.

When her eyes opened and a welcoming smile graced her lips, his heart twisted with bitterness, knowing he was, and always would be, powerless against her.

She was a siren that had emerged from the ocean depths. And he was a lowly ship sailor incapable of resisting her siren song.

He strode through the glass door to her, entering the hot spray. Water poured over his head, into his eyes, as he stared down at her. She’d lead him to his destruction, destroy his life, and he’d willingly follow if it meant one more time in her arms.

And he could hate her for it.

Spinning her around, he reached around to cup her breasts. She gasped and arched into his palms as he tweaked the tips, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. She tried to turn, but Aidan grabbed her hips, keeping her in place.

“Aidan,” she moaned. “I want to touch you too.”

If only that were true. Yes, she wanted to touch him, physically. But emotionally, spiritually, she’d deny him any contact, and that was what he really wanted.

Ignoring her plea, he walked her forward until she was pressed against the stone wall, then lifted her leg onto a rock jutting out of the lower right end of it. Quickly, he tore open a condom he’d slipped into his swim trunks this morning just in case and slid it on, then thrust up.

Jaylin gasped again, her ass pushing down. He rode her hard, taking satisfaction in stuttered breaths that ripped from her mouth, her fingers curling against the rock, the way she allowed him admittance into her body in a way she never would her heart.

When she came apart in his arms, the back of her head resting on his shoulder as she yelled her orgasm, a piece of him shattered as well.

Being inside her was no longer enough. He wanted her facing him so he could watch every moment of ecstasy on her face, see her lips part on each gasp, feel her body beneath his. All while knowing she was his because she loved him, and
nothing
was more important than that, not even death.

And he would never have it.

…

Jaylin prowled around the house, searching for Aidan. Two hours earlier, he’d pretty much taken her and run, leaving her standing under the shower, confused and alone. She’d wrapped her arms around herself and lowered to the floor, the water pouring over her as the realization that something between them had changed sank in.

There’d been nothing tender in the way he’d taken her, his movements, touches, everything had been angry. The change had been her fault. If she could take back that moment on the deck where she’d looked him in the face and told him she’d chosen living a human life over him, she would.

Because now she wasn’t so certain of that.

She needed to bridge the gap she’d created between them by being honest with him—and herself—for the first time. He deserved to know that Rafael had made her doubt, that she was opening up her mind to the possibility that she was wrong.

Jaylin stepped outside and found him asleep on a lounge chair in a darkened corner of the deck. She tiptoed over to him, his naked chest making her fingers itch to just touch him. He’d never retied the strings of his trunks so the material rode low on his hips, giving her an enticing view of the deep vee of his pelvis. Soft snores passed his lips, and his face was relaxed, in contrast to the carved lines she’d seen as he’d stalked over to her earlier. Her heart fluttered, then squeezed tight, stealing her ability to breath for a moment.

Aidan made her feel things no man ever had, and most likely never would again.

What if she lost him?

Her stomach knotted in a painful way that brought tears to the back of her eyes.

Would she survive his death? Would she have years of love and laughter to remember or only hours? Would she be like Rafael and her mother or like Stephanie? Would she have children surrounding her in his absence or be completely alone?

And what about Aidan? If she died first, how would he cope? Would he be crippled like some of the males she’d counseled? Would he regret insisting they had to be together? If they had children, would their daughters see a corpse replace their living parent as she had with her mother?

So many fears and worries crippled her from taking that final step. That one last huge leap that would give her a love of a lifetime.

She wasn’t ready to commit to eternity, but she was ready to commit to him with the hope that maybe one day she would.

If he’d still have her.

She knelt beside the chair and ran her fingers lightly over his chest. The snores stopped as he inhaled deeply through his nose and turned his head away from her. Slipping her palm over his abdomen, she sighed and closed her eyes, basking in the feel of his warm skin heating hers. She hated having to be so sneaky just to get a touch in, but she missed rubbing him, feeling his skin under her palms.

Placing a small kiss on his side, she passed her hand over the front of his swim trunks. He hardened, going instantly from soft flesh to hard, pulsating cock. Aidan moaned, his hips moving slightly as a murmured “Jaylin” came from his mouth.

Encouraged, she moved her lips to his belly button.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” she whispered against his skin. This morning, she’d wanted to arouse him from sleep with sweet kisses and naughty touches, but never got the chance.

Better late than never. Maybe it’d put him in a better mood, so they could have a very interesting talk later.

She outlined the rigid flesh straining against the fabric of his trunks with the tip of her finger. He bent a leg up, his hand sliding down his chest, past his navel, under the waistband of his shorts, to wrap around his cock as he whispered her name again.

Enthralled, Jaylin sat back, barely breathing, as she watched his hand work back and forth. She never knew watching a man give himself pleasure could be such a turn-on. But her clit buzzed with electricity; moisture gushed between her legs. And all she could envision was replacing his hand with her mouth.

She placed a tentative kiss on his hip, working up.

The hand on his cock stilled. She looked up into blue gleaming eyes. A snarl came from Aidan—Aidan, not his beast—before he shot up from the lounger, flipped her on her back, and stood between her thighs. The robe flew open, leaving her exposed to the evening’s warm breeze and to his furious gaze. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You’ve spent a lot of time seeing to my pleasure. I want to see to yours.” She sat up, eye-level with his hips and licked her lips.

“No.”

No? “Why not?”

“Don’t you know? You know everything else.” He studied her, then gave a harsh laugh. “You don’t have a fucking clue, do you?”

She jerked back at the anger in his voice, then noticed the blue had started to flash in and out of his gaze, the tight lines etched around his mouth and eyes, the pain he tried to hide. “Oh God, Aidan, what’s happening?”

His face twisted into such hostility she could barely breathe. “Watching you suck me off is a cruel form of torture. But you’re okay with torturing me, aren’t you?”

She stumbled off the chair and to her feet. “What are you talking about?”

“For someone so damn smart, you’re pretty damn dumb.” He put a finger to his temple. “Think, Jaylin. You’ve had no problem doing so before now. In fact, overthinking is your favorite pastime.”

Why was he being so cruel and nasty? All she’d wanted to do was give him pleasure. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. A possibility hit. Too horrible to contemplate.

He was unbonded, sleeping with his unbonded mate—a rarity considering shifters immediately
Fewsed
themselves to their mates once the
Drall
was awakened, which in turn relieved the pressure of the instinct. But he was fighting it with everything he had in him.