The Mates of Monsters
Chapter 65

I hear the front door open and close and I call, "Any update?"

It had only been ten or so minutes since Lyde left. I had been typing a response to Bonny's latest update regarding the campaign and her approaching visit, but I have yet to send it, and when Lyde doesn't answer, I look away from my proofreading. "Lyde?"

I stand from the table when David enters the archway. Little cuts and developing bruises sprinkle his skin, and I notice white gauze on the base of his neck. He's been patched up-Nicodra aimed there with purpose. My head goes nauseous at the thought. All of his marks and scrapes bring me to ball my hands into tight fists, pushing my anger out that way. My eyes scan over him. My lip quivers.

"Nicodra is dead?" I ask, forcing down my need to run to him, to cling and cry and thank the Goddess for sparing my love.

David nods. "He is," he says plainly, holding back things himself. "I hope you can forgive me."

"You want my forgiveness? For what?"

"For leaving when you begged me not to."

I hear the back doors in the kitchen-Helena leaving.

I roll my lips together then bite down to distract from the tidal waves thrashing around behind my eyes and in my chest. "It's fine," I hardly manage. "You promised you would do something to help Aurora if you could."

David peers to the side. "I heard you scream after me. It tore me to pieces, Brigette, to hear you... I'm sorry."

"I thought you were going to die. You could have. Imagine if our roles were reversed and you had to watch me walk out that door."

"I can't," he admits. "Even if I knew I could do it, you didn't. And I don't want you to resent me for going anyway."

"Resent you?" A frown flashes on my face. "I thought I was going to throw myself off the cliff. I-I was waiting there, on the edge."

David furrows his brow and bites down, his whole being tensing.

"I waited and waited for the bond to break, so when it didn't I let Lyde take me back here. I would have done it," I breathe, "because I meant it when I said I couldn't live without you. And I wasn't scared of dying; I just didn't want you to. I didn't want our time together to be over so soon."

David comes around the table. "All of those things we haven't done," I murmur. He envelopes me and caresses my cheek, kissing me fully, pulling away just to look at my face. "I want to be strong for you. I-If you tell me I shouldn't be scared, then I want to trust you, but I need you to understand that I'll never be able to do so if it concerns your life. I'll always be scared of losing you."

He kisses me again, tasting me, making my breath hitch. His body presses flush with mine, his scraped up, fight-ridden body with wounds I want to lick, to cure and never see again. His fingers disappear in my hair, and when his mouth leaves mine once more I almost stomp my foot.

"I love you," David tells me, an inch from my face. "I love you so deeply that I would burn the world to the ground... if anything happened to you. I'll always be scared of losing you, Brigette."

My eyes search his like the night sky, jumping from star to star. "I wanted to tell you before you left. That I love you."

I can barely get the last word out before his lips crash to mine and that animalistic need drags in my core. He holds me and grabs me with a roughness that still lingers from the battle, but I don't care. His hands bring up my shirt and I grin at his urgency to touch me, to see me and convince himself that he is not dead. He is the victor, but maybe that hasn't set in yet.

David's mouth leaves mine as he pulls my pajama shirt over my head, tousling my hair and fueling my fire. He shoves the chairs out of our way to sit me on the table, and once I'm placed, he reaches under my arms to unclasp my bra.

"Pease," I say before he tears the thing from me. "I need you. I need to be as close to you as I can."

His hands clamp against the table on either side of my thighs. I comb my fingers into his hair, and he looks at my pink cheeks and longing eyes. The clasp to my bra has been undone, and it rests against me, rising with the in and out of my breath. "I'm yours," I murmur, running my hands around the back of his neck, "and I'm stronger than you think."

His finger hooks around the apex of my bra and guides it off. I move my arms through the straps so he can rid of it, but I beckon the removal of his shirt as well. David steps back and lifts it off, revealing another patch of gauze, a larger patch taped to his side. I gasp and he says, "It's not so bad."

"Are there more?" I ask. "Please, tell me that's it."

He turns around and discloses another patch on his back, across his left shoulder blade. I whimper and lift it up, finding a sickening streak of torn skin, likely the result of Nicodra's claws. "Damn it, David," I breathe. "Look at you. Look what he did." David turns back. "I got away easy."