Mending the Beast (Awakening Pride #10) - Lacey Thorn Page 0,32

lean into it.

“Daniel, I can’t—”

“I’d like to buy you dinner.” He spoke over her, and she knew he didn’t want her to say she couldn’t be who he needed. “Just dinner and conversation. Would that be so bad?”

She shook her head and cursed the emotion that welled up inside her. She’d spent most of the last few years wrapped in hate and anger. To hear Daniel say he didn’t want to be that person, made her reevaluate the person she’d become.

“I’ve never been on a date,” she admitted softly.

He closed his eyes, seeming in pain.

“Not even in high school?” he asked.

“No.” Quick and firm. She’d been a nobody in high school, doing her best to hide in plain sight and draw no attention to herself.

“Ariel.” He stopped, his mouth snapping shut so hard she worried he might lock his jaw or crack his teeth. His nostrils flared as he seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say. “Did you… Were you with… before?”

She knew what he was asking, though he couldn’t get the words out. She shut her eyes and shook her head back and forth. No, she’d never had sex before what had happened.

Daniel made a sound that had her snapping her eyes open and seeking him out. He sounded like a wounded animal, one in more pain than a body could bear. This time, she didn’t stop herself when her feet moved closer to him. She reached out to touch his chest and shuddered as she felt how tightly coiled he really was. Then his gaze snagged hers, and the neon light of his animal held her captive despite her reluctance.

“Don’t,” he begged, reaching up to gently press her hand more firmly against him. This time, it was his eyes that closed. His turn to shudder. “Touch me. Just for a moment.”

What was she doing to him? It wasn’t fair. She shouldn’t touch him, knowing it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t.

A keening wail filled the air, and it devastated her to realize it came from her. Daniel’s eyes snapped open, and from one breath to the next, she was in his arms, high against his chest as he carried her to the bed, easing down on the edge and holding her in his lap. One hand cupped the back of her head, holding her in place where she rested her head against the curve of his neck. The other gently caressed up and down her spine, never drifting too low or high.

“Go ahead, baby. Let it out.”

She shuddered again, trying and failing to cut off the sobs building in her chest. No one had held her like this. No one had wrapped her in their arms and urged her to release her emotions. And she didn’t blame them. She’d been more like a rabid beast in the aftermath. More likely to bite the hand held out to her than to grab on and hold tight.

Gideon had done his best to help her. He’d risked her snarling and scratching when she jolted awake from a nightmare. He’d offered the comfort he could at the time, but he hadn’t known how to deal with things any more than she had. His face had been one of compassion, and she’d been embarrassed to have him see her that way. Eventually, she’d stopped waking in panic mode, no longer attacking as she jerked from sleep.

It had taken longer to control the screams until she woke crying Gideon’s name, instead. Then she’d trained herself to lock it all inside, to hide the nightmares that never left her, until no one knew she still had them.

Daniel was different. His expression conveyed more than compassion. There was grief and horror and controlled rage. He seemed to mirror everything she felt, everything she’d locked inside—tried to lock away, anyway. He shuddered with her, cried with her, and when she clung to him in desperation, he wrapped her tighter against him, shedding his own tears in her hair while she soaked his shirt.

He didn’t croon to her, didn’t fill her ears with useless words that offered nothing. He dove into the storm with her, holding tight so she knew she wasn’t alone. God! She wasn’t alone. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel alone.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered between sobs. “Please, don’t let me hurt you.”

“Shh, baby. Let me hold you for a little bit. Let me be your strength while you give yourself a moment to breathe. Trust me