not a why, it’s a what.”
“Hit me.” She leaned up and kissed him quickly.
“What are you doing for the rest of your life?”
Ehlena’s breath caught. “I thought…you said you couldn’t stay in Caldwell.”
His massive shoulders, which were still bandaged, shrugged. “Thing is, I can’t leave you. Just isn’t going to happen. Every hour next to you just makes that reality all the more clear. I literally…can’t go unless you make me.”
“Which is isn’t going to happen.”
“It…isn’t?”
Ehlena framed his face with her palms, and the instant she did, he stilled. Which was something that happened every time she touched him. It was as if he were perpetually waiting for some kind of command from her…but then, that was what bonded male vampires were like, weren’t they. Yes, they were stronger and more physically powerful than their mates, but the shellans ran the show.
“Looks like I’m spending my future with you,” she said against his mouth.
He shuddered, as if he were letting his last doubts go. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I’m going to take care of you.”
“I know.”
“And like I said, I’m not going back to what I did before here in town.”
“Good.” He paused, as if he wanted to reassure her even more and was searching for words. “Stop talking and kiss me again. My heart’s made up and so is my mind, and there’s nothing more you need to tell me. I know who you are. You’re my hellren.”
As their mouths met, she was well aware that there was a lot to sort out. If they lived among the vampires, they were going to have to continue protecting his symphath identity. And she didn’t know what he was going to do about the colony up north—she had a feeling all that circling and worshiping business meant that he was in some kind of leadership role there.
But they were going to face all that and more together.
Which was the only thing that mattered.
Eventually, he pulled back. “I’m going to shower and go see Bella, okay?”
“Good, I’m glad.” He and his sister had had only a brief, awkward hug before everyone had gone to bed. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“I will.”
Rehvenge left the bedroom a half hour later, dressed in a pair of sweats and a thick sweater that one of the Brothers had given him. With no clue where to go, he tagged a doggen who was vacuuming in the hall and asked for directions to Bella and Z’s bedroom.
It wasn’t far. Just a couple of doors down.
Rehv went to the end of the hallway full of Greco-Roman statuary and knocked where he’d been told to. When there was no answer, he tried the next door up, through which he could hear Nalla’s soft crying.
“Come in,” Bella called out.
Rehv opened the way into the nursery slowly, unsure of the welcome he was going to get.
Across a room that had bunnies stenciled on the walls, Bella was sitting in a rocking chair, her foot working against the carpet, her young cradled in her arms. In spite of the tender treatment, though, Nalla was not happy, her fussy, whimpering dissatisfaction at the world painfully apparent.
“Hi,” Rehv said before his sister looked over. “It’s me.”
Bella’s blue eyes rose to meet his, and he watched her face go through all kinds of emotions. “Hi.”
“Mind if I come in?”
“Please do.”
He closed the door behind himself and then wondered if she wouldn’t feel safe shut in with him. He went to reopen it, but she stopped him.
“It’s okay.”
He wasn’t so sure of that, so he stayed across the room from her, watching as Nalla registered his presence. And reached out for him.
A month ago, a lifetime ago, he would have gone over and taken the young into his arms. Not now. Probably not ever again.
“She’s so fussy today,” Bella said. “And once again my feet are tired. I can’t walk around with her in my arms for even a minute longer.”
“Yeah.”
There was a long silence as they both focused on the young.
“I never knew about you,” Bella said eventually. “I never would have guessed.”
“I didn’t want you to know. Neither did Mahmen.” As the words left his lips, he said a quick, silent prayer for their mother, hoping that she would forgive him for the fact that the dark, horrible secret was now known. The thing was, though, life had played out as it had, the revelation not his to control.
God knew he’d taken his best shot at keeping the veil of