Thirty-seven

When I glanced up he was watching me, his expression unreadable.

“You’re different than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

He smiled but his face was mortified. “Even the way you chew your food fascinates me. When you smile your lips tremble for a second and when you laugh you don’t open your mouth.”

“I do that?” I asked, looking at the mashed potato.

“Yes. Your eyes twinkle for a millisecond when you look at me, it’s really beautiful. You do a lot of things.” He laughed.

“I don’t like the sound of that.” I mumbled chancing a quick glance at him. Like I’d expected he was smiling wildly, his eyes mischievous.

“You snore so loud that the very first day I went to your house I thought lions were having a roaring contest.”

“I don’t snore.” I said horrified.

“Oh, and baby, you slap and kick me when you’re sleeping. I think even if I could sleep I wouldn’t be able to get much sleep sharing a bed with you.”

“Oh no,” I sighed, covering my face with my hands in shame.

“But you know what?”

I looked into his eyes waiting for him to talk. The seconds ticked by.

“What?”

“The snoring, the kicking, the slapping – would you think I’m crazy if I told you I enjoy them? – I don’t dread the night anymore since I’ve met you. Sometimes I just sit and watch you sleep; you can’t imagine how good it feels.”

“You’re a creep.” I joked, slightly out of breath, staring down again.

“A creepy old man,” He sighed. “The very first day you came here, I watched you outside your window, all night. I couldn’t bring myself to walk away. I didn’t understand the pull towards you back then.”

“I…” he pressed his long index finger on my lips, silencing me.

“I initially thought I was drawn to your life essence. I comforted myself with the thought that I followed you home with only the thought of killing you but to be honest I was glad when your mother came home, giving me a reason not to kill you, I couldn’t face it as yet. I was afraid what it meant that I was unwilling to even occupy the thought of killing you. I couldn’t imagine your fragile body lifeless.”

I couldn’t talk; his finger was still pressed lightly on my bottom lip. He was looking at me with a dazzling smile; I wasn’t sure how someone could be so amazing.

"It took decades of self-control not to break through your window not to —" He stopped abruptly, looking away, his face distressed.

"When I walked through the door with my father – it was the first time I truly felt like a monster, like a demon – I thought I’d gone straight to hell. You were, no, are my personal torment. I couldn’t control myself." He paused thoroughly, his eyes dancing all over my face.

"It didn’t help that your essence was calling me, possessing me, compelling me to disappoint my mother, my family. I’d never had a problem with our way of life before you came along; I’ve never met a human strong enough to awaken the monster locked within me. When the room filled with your scent, I lost my train of thought. I lost my willpower. I had to get out of there, I had to leave."

“I’m sorry.”

“Of all the things to apologize for.”

He shook his head, rolling his eyes. His expression tortured, pained. I lifted my hand to comfort him but then stopped suddenly; I didn’t think he’d welcome the gesture. It pained me to watch him relive the hardest day of his entire existence. I had done that to him. I’d made him feel that pain. I sighed looking down; suddenly I’d lost my appetite.

“You shouldn’t be sorry. As much as I want to kill you, something stronger, much more powerful than the demon in me refused for me to hurt you.” He mumbled bitterly. “I have to admit that even the monster in me felt protective of you. It’s sick really. I’d like to argue that the reason I didn’t kill you was so I could protect you, to torture others with you, you have no idea how perfect you smell. How hard you make it for my kind.” He frowned. “I don’t think you understand.”

I nodded. “I don’t.” I answered calmly.

“You see, Beth, there’s a good and bad part in all of us.” He spoke slowly as though he was talking to a handicapped child. “The good part in me knew that I could kill you and get away with it. But the evil part, the haunted part wanted you alive to torture my saintly side.”

I nodded, unable to speak.

“I would’ve found a way to make to follow, I would’ve called out to you, made you seek me …” he stopped suddenly.

“But?” I mumbled in a trembling voice.

“I could feel how hurt you were by my behaviour, could feel your confusion at my actions. I can feel every emotion you do, that’s how it is with life-mates, well I could. Now I know how to block you out. Zane knew what you were to me before I did.”

I stared in surprise.

He smiled up at me, “Zane doesn’t hate Rebecca but she tends to avoid people with negative emotions. Her gift is powerful. She has to make sure she contains herself or it could get ugly. Like last night she’d been too excited. You’d felt it. She has to control her waves sometimes. We all lose control. She’d been bitter once, after she’d found out about Rebecca and Victor…” he shook his head at the distant memory.

“What happened?”

He shook his head. “She hadn’t meant to hurt anybody.”

“What happened?”

“People who came in contact with her felt like she did; bitter, murderous,” He sighed. “The town was in havoc. That’s why we had to leave.”

We were quiet for a long moment while I processed what he’d just said.

“So I went home that day with every intention of following you home, of killing you. My whole family was waiting for me. She’d told them what you were to me. She’d promised me I wouldn’t hurt you, but she refused to tell me why. And Rebecca…” he snarled. “She knew there was a big chance that I’d lose control, she thought I should do it sooner. She saw no point in me prolonging the deed.” he scoffed. “I wouldn’t have done it.”

Finally I was able to speak. “You can’t be sure.”

“Elizabeth.” He said my full name slowly, his voice low and strange. “It would physically hurt me if I were to hurt you. I wouldn’t live with myself if I gave in to the demonic part of me, I can’t imagine my life without. What would I do without your beautiful smile brightening up my day? You’re a significant part of my life. You’re essential to me.”

He took my hand and kissed it. When I looked up he was watching me, waiting patiently.

“It’s hard to explain how I feel.” I mumbled, dropping my gaze. “Even if you weren’t my mate I still would be here with you, in this very moment, like this. I don’t care if I die now, spending time with you is worth it.” I laughed bitterly. “I’m so naïve.”

“Yes you are.” He agreed with a laugh. “But I don’t blame you, it comes with age.”

I looked up and our eyes locked. We laughed together, our hands locked together.

"I’m in love with you Elizabeth White, you hear me? "His gaze searched mine as though he wanted me to so desperately believe him. I did. He took both of my hands and placed them over his chest so I could hear the frantic beat of his heart. “I am unconditionally and madly in love with you.” He whispered in the dark.

I sighed, my heart missing a beat. “I’ll never let you go.”

"I wouldn’t let you.” He stared into the blazing fireplace for a long silent moment, and I wondered where his thoughts had taken him.

"How…?" I began, and then paused, not sure how to continue.

He looked at me and smiled my favourite crooked smile. He was so beautiful in the dawn. He stole my breath away.

"Yes?"

"How will we make it work?”

His smile faded. “I honestly don’t know.” He said gloomily. “I will quit high school and pursue other interests. I’ve been to high school more times than it is acceptable in a lifetime.”

“No!” I shouted. Horrified. “You can’t leave me there.”

“I have enemies Beth, I can’t gamble with your life.” He said flatly, his eyes unreadable.

“You are the most important thing to me now.” I whispered. “I don’t need high school anyway; my days would be unbearable without you there. I want you.”

He freed my hands and gently but slowly placed his hand on my cheek. Such a simple innocent gesture but it stirred foreign feelings inside me – made me feel things I shouldn’t – my pulse was racing in my veins. My blood boiled.

I caught a look on his face that gave him away – he knew what his touch did to me. I sighed.

"Your face is warmer than usual.” He mumbled. Slowly he sandwiched my face between the tight grips of his hands. His tormented yellow eyes held me captive. I was unable to move, caged in his intoxicating touch and melting gaze.