Chapter 24
He stood there looking at the cabin, Giana was still sleeping. Rubbing his hands over his beard, Deacon dropped his head down to rest in them. What did I do? Last night, being with her was the most amazing and possibly stupidest thing he’d ever done in his life so far. Jerking his head up, he looked at the cabin again. He could see her beneath him, every time he closed his eyes now, pale, beautiful, and his. Only she wasn’t officially ‘his.’
Touching the mark on his neck for the hundredth time, he blew out a long breath. It hadn’t healed when he’d shifted earlier. Part of him had wanted it to heal over, the other part was proud to wear her mark. Turning, he went back over to the truck, to repack his gear—that didn’t need repacking.
She’d marked him. His heart had felt like it was going to explode in his chest when she’d done it. His animal had screamed in victory inside him. Currently, the creature was still mad that Deacon hadn’t claimed her right then and there. He’d wanted to. He almost had. After he’d been afraid to move, afraid to be close to her for fear his animal would break through his control and do just that. Then he’d looked at her and his heart felt like it was stuck in his throat, she was so beautiful.
He slammed the door to the truck and then winced. Jerking around he looked at the cabin, hoping he hadn’t woken her up. This was a cluster fuck beyond all others. The only thread of logic he was clinging to was the fact that ‘mine’ didn’t really qualify as her accepting him and claiming him properly. He opened the door and then rested his forehead on the frame. “Keep telling yourself that and eventually, you might believe it.” He couldn’t walk away from her now. Which left him with another bigger problem, how could he be with her all the time without a repeat of last night and that would lead to marking her? Because he only had so much willpower and as he found out last night, Giana could smash through it without even trying.
Blowing out another breath, he opened the door again and reached behind the seat, he lifted the long case out. Cleaning his rifle was on today’s list, along with just about anything else he could think of to keep busy and keep his hands off her. Setting the case on the hood, he went back and grabbed the smaller pack to get what he needed. Reaching in, he felt his phone, the one he wasn’t supposed to use. Fuck.
Anytime he’d felt like he was losing his mind, he talked to Calum. The man always had some sort of answer that set his head straight.
Setting the bag beside his rifle case, he stomped over to where he’d put his run pack. Protocol be damned, if he didn’t talk to someone about this, he was going to turn into a raging lunatic. Opening it as he went back to the truck, he pulled out the phone and brought up the emergency number. This qualified as an emergency.
He wasn’t surprised to hear Illias on the other end.
“Deacon, it’s Illias, what’s happening?”
Closing his eyes, he tried not to sound like a lovesick idiot. “I need to contact Calum.”
“Has something happened? I thought you’d be secure.” Illias cursed a few times.
“We’re secure.”
“Thank fuck. You gave me a heart attack. Does it constitute an emergency? I’ve been told to not give out numbers unless it does.”
Deacon raised an eyebrow, “you always follow the rules?”
Illias laughed, “no. Hang on.”
Deacon breathed a sigh of relief that he didn’t have to try to explain that he needed Calum to exercise the demons chasing his soul right now. He wrote down the number. “Any word on when we can go again?”
“I just have to wait for Fallen to find a safe, off-the-record location, so I’m hoping by tomorrow.”
Deacon shoulders dropped with relief. One day, he could do that. He really needed his job to distract him right now. “Sounds good.”
“Don’t forget to check your six,” Illias laughed, “I have no idea what that means, I heard it in a movie.”
Deacon grinned, “I’m watching my back, don’t worry.”
“Ah, got it.” The line went dead.
“One more day.” He mumbled as he punched in Calum’s number.
“Hello?”
“It’s me.” Now that he had him on the other end, he had no idea what to say to him.
“Deacon, is everything all right? I’m assuming you got this number from Illias?”
“Yeah, I did.” He closed his eyes, “everything is not all right, it’s a fucking mess.”
“Oh?”
“She marked me, Cal, last night. I was a weak idiot and gave into her and—” he stopped; he couldn’t think about that right now.
“I see.”
“A mate’s mark.” He clarified.
“I figured that.” Calum cleared his throat. “I take it you didn’t claim her.”
“Yeah, I mean no, I didn’t. You know why I can’t.”
“Listen, I know you’ve spent years telling yourself that, but there are other things you need to be aware of...”
“I know, I know, it works itself out and all that, but Cal, none of that changes the fact that she’s from an Alpha bloodline and I’m a,” he waved his hand around, “mutt.”
Calum chuckled quietly, “are you going to let me talk?”
Deacon scowled at the ground, “sure.” There was nothing he could say that would clear it all up. Nothing.
“Okay, I told you I looked into your family and history...”
The cabin door opened, and a sleepy, sexy-looking Gia stepped out and smiled at him. “I have to go. Giana’s awake.” He hung up the phone and jammed it back in his pack.
“Any news?” She stretched and then brushed her hair back from her face.
Deacon swallowed, trying to get his words to work. She looked so beautiful; the early dawn light seemed like it was only highlighting her. “Uh, probably have a plan by tomorrow.” He jolted into action and spun back to his rifle, “Illias is just trying to find us an off-the-grid safe house to work out of.”
“That’s good news,” her voice told him she was moving toward him, “that we’ll be getting more people out.”
He glanced to see she was right behind him now. He motioned to his rifle, “I need to clean this and check the sight, make sure it’s ready.”
She touched his arm and ran her hand softly over it, “do you want me to get breakfast started?”
He looked down at her, her sleepy eyes were looking at him with such a tender look, his heart beat out of rhythm for a few pumps. He smiled, “that would be great.”
“Okay.” She stretched up and kissed his lips softly, then turned and went back toward the cabin.
He stood there like a statue and watched her go back in. Reflex had him lick over his lips, taking the taste of her into his mouth. Fuck. He was in so much trouble here. Life-altering, can’t-walk-it-back kind of trouble.
~
Deacon watched her head into the bush to go for a run. He was both disappointed and relieved she chose to wait until she was out of sight to strip down. He felt like a complete dick, turning her down again for a run together. It was bad enough he’d babbled all through breakfast about the importance of keeping her weapon clean. She’d sat there and listened, asking questions, the whole time those sexy fucking eyes were eating him up like a tasty snack. His own traitorous body seemed to be wired to respond to her now, one look and he was hard, his brain turned off, his animal anticipating. He’d practically run from the cabin like a coward, saying he needed to get the porch floor fixed or mice would get in.
He needed to get his head together before they were back with the team, lives depended on him focusing, not to mention that he dreaded having his ass handed to him by Wynter if he screwed up.
A squirrel ran across the path and then froze and looked at him. “What? You never have a bad day?” Its tail twitched a few times and then it took off. Great. Just fucking wonderful, he was talking to squirrels now.
More than once since he’d woke to her warm body against his, he’d asked himself why he hadn’t taken the out Wynter offered. It would have been the easiest solution, orders to go elsewhere. Bam. Done, no arguments and hurt feelings, but—
Scowling, he stomped toward the shed, his every thought came with a but now.
If he’d taken Wynter’s offer, he never would have felt her skin against him, heard the sounds she made when he was inside her—fuck.
He just, the idea of other members of this team watching over her wasn’t right. It was for him to do.
His animal stirred, he was not feeling kindly about not being around her—he was good with Konner and most of the rest of his team but would lose his mind if she was partnered with another male.
It had been torture to lay in bed with her while she was sleeping, but he couldn’t bring himself to get up and leave her. His animal was at the point of pushing the claiming before he got out of the bed and stumbled outside.
Rubbing the back of his neck to try and release some tension, he dragged his hand over the mark on his flesh. She’d marked him for all to know. A lump formed in his throat and his chest tightened at the same time. He looked in the direction she’d gone. Fuck. Putting his rifle back in the case and his gear away, he put it all back into the truck and locked the door.
Grabbing his run pack, he slung it over his head and turned away from the direction she’d gone, he would circle around and go check the traps. The exercise would do him some good, keep his body busy until his mind wore itself out replaying the events that happened in the dark.