Outlaw (Wolves of Royal Paynes #4) - Kiki Burrelli Page 0,72

leaving me with an excuse that clearly wasn't true.

Diesel made a show of looking around us. "What others?"

I shrugged. "Something could come up."

Diesel bent over, wordlessly hauling me to his shoulder as he ascended the stairs. This wasn't the first time he'd carried me through the halls, but it was the first time it made me want to cry instead of smile.

"Baby boy, the moment we're alone, you are going to tell me what is making you feel like that."

For not the first time, I cursed shifters and their stupid senses. I hadn't been bothered all that often being the only human in the pack, but when I had been, it'd been because of something I was trying to hide and had no possibility of succeeding.

He carried me into our room and shut the door. The click of the lock sliding into place always made me shiver just a little.

"You shouldn't have carried me," I whined the moment he set me down on the bed. Climbing up the mattress, I sat at the head, clutching the comforter to my chest. "You're hurt. You could've died. That was what Pierce was there to do. Kill you."

Diesel sat on his side of the bed in the same position. "But he didn't, so I don't know why you're worried about it still."

"I just—" It hadn't been until I'd gotten a bit older that people started commenting about my relationship with Diesel. Never very loudly, and only ever from the mouths of unmated shifters who were clearly just jealous—hence the reason why I never told Diesel about it—but I'd still heard what they'd said. That Diesel was whipped. They'd implied I'd performed some amazing sexual feat that had earned me a spot by Diesel's side. Little did they know I'd wished for Diesel to let me touch his body, but he'd rebuffed my every attempt. But he never stopped taking care of me. I'd taken it for granted that his feelings were real and his adoration was pure. "Just don't die for me. Not ever. Don't do it."

Diesel growled low but immediately swallowed it like he'd opened the door to a lion's cage and slammed it shut as the beast roared in your face. "Why is this something you're worried about, Quinlan?"

This new Diesel was sneaky. He'd been easier to read before. He'd worn his feelings on his sleeve, which was how I'd seen them so clearly. Now, he zigged when he would've zagged, and I was left uncertain of his motives.

I couldn't share my fears and expect Diesel to understand. He was stuck under my spell, after all. He looked at me like I was the moon, sun, and stars, and I never once worried it wasn't real, that he didn't actually love me. When I thought back to his reluctance, the way I'd pushed our relationship forward every step of the way, it made me want to drop to the ground and cry.

But I couldn't have a tantrum, and I couldn't let my nephilim curse draw Diesel any deeper under my spell.

I got up and walked to the desk, taking a seat in the char. I spun around and crossed my legs at the knees. "I think after learning what we have, if you want to reflect on certain choices you've made…" And maybe decide the half demon you were forced to adore isn't actually what you want.

Diesel looked at the carpet between the bed and the desk. "Omega, why are you putting space between us?"

My face burned, both in shame and arousal. This would all be easier if I didn't want Diesel so badly. "I don't know—maybe I just needed space! People need space sometimes." Could I annoy him out of caring for me? Or would that just make being forced to love me that much more unbearable?

"Is that what you need, mate? Is you needing space the reason why your scent went so sour downstairs?"

"No." He'd know if I tried to lie, so I didn't attempt it, adding as much disrespect as I thought I could get away with instead.

"Tell me the truth, Quinlan," Diesel cooed, sliding to sit at the end of the bed.

He braced his forearms—each wider than an average man's biceps—against his knees as his eyes roved my body, pausing on where my legs were crossed and my arms folded over my chest. His eyes softened, tilting slightly down in his amusement.

There was nothing funny about this. "Why aren't you mad?" I hadn't intended to scream, but